


You Will Not Kiss Me

by ProsperosDaughter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-14
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-12 03:12:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 116
Words: 587,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProsperosDaughter/pseuds/ProsperosDaughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dark creatures can be deeply seductive, even against your will.  Alpha!Remus</p><p>A secret story, wrapping in and around canon, from PoA to DH.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story contains a lot of magic: wizard and werewolf; usual and sexual. It is a love story, and an adventure story too with quite a high quotient of angst.
> 
> Canon events occur, but their causes and outcomes may be very different indeed.
> 
> Novel length fan fiction
> 
> Disclaimer: All recognisable work is the intellectual property of JK Rowling and her associates. I wish I earned money from writing this, but it's just for fun.

**Chapter 1: The Call**

Bringing the werewolf to teach at the school had been one of Dumbledore's greater cruelties, to Snape's mind. Never mind that the beast would undoubtedly be assisting Black into the castle – oh no – never mind that small consideration! But Dumbledore knew how close Snape had come to being attacked by the werewolf as part of a Marauder prank. Even then, those boys had turned their murderous prank to their advantage so that Potter looked the hero for saving Snape. They all remained in school and Snape had been made to swear to keep Lupin's secret. All to protect Dumbledore's golden Gryffindors. The rank injustice of it still galled Snape as freshly today as all those years ago.

But more than that, Dumbledore also knew how Snape feared the werewolf, having seen the transformed creature in its rage all those years ago. He could still recall in every tiny detail the creature he'd seen at the end of the tunnel: that huge wolf with flashing red eyes, growling, snarling and slavering, spittle spraying from its cruel teeth and jaws as it bounded towards Snape; how Snape had been paralysed in abject terror until Potter pulled him away. It had taken Snape days to even speak again, but to this day, Snape would awaken at night in sheer primal terror from that recurring remembrance that formed the basis of all of his nightmares from that day to this: his father becoming the wolf; each Marauder becoming the wolf; the Dark Lord becoming the wolf – they would all coalesce in the end into that wolf. He had first been taught to Occlude his mind to shut out these night terrors, but was never fully successful.

When he was first in the service of the Dark Lord, his master had discovered these nightmares in one of the many intrusions into Snape's mind. The Dark Lord however recognised the filth that was the beast and had promised Snape that once the Death Eaters had risen to power, Lupin would be part of his prize. After all, Lupin was a half-breed, not even a proper man. The Dark Lord encouraged Snape's enmity and Snape revelled in his own dreams for torture and revenge.

Now, Snape served a different master. Not evil like the Dark Lord, but still capable of remarkably casual cruelty to Snape in his disregard for his feelings. However, as Snape's confessor, Dumbledore had tried on many occasions to heal the damage to Snape's soul: some self-inflicted; some not. The scars ran deep and always reminded Snape forcibly of his powerlessness in the face of those who relentlessly ground him down. He tried to suppress his simmering anger but found it hard to rein in at times. The older the wound, the harder the rage was to contain. If Snape examined his own reasons, he might have even recognised that he sometimes fanned the flames of his rage and stoked the embers of long past grievances, because it gave him _purpose_. It made him _feel_ something in his morose existence of something close to servitude, in his self-imposed isolation – it _energised_ him. However, he needed no spark to relight the fire of his terror of the werewolf. _That_ had never left him.

And now the beast was under the same roof again – to all outward appearances, mild mannered, even tempered, fair minded, _sweet even_ (Snape sneered) Professor Lupin, favourite of students and teaching staff alike. A ravening, slavering half-breed, who howled at the moon and would rip his own mother's throat out, that was the truth of Remus Lupin, Snape knew.

He'd had little to do with Lupin when they were at school themselves. Lupin was a Marauder, that gang of pranksters and bullies. He had rarely pranked Snape himself – those hexes were always undertaken by Potter and Black. Oh, but he was always there, with that dozy frown of his, pretending to be concerned but never, never controlling his friends, doing his duty as a prefect. If he couldn't do his duty as a prefect then, why should he have changed enough to do his duty as a professor and protect the boy from Black now? Snape would be watching him; he would watch him like a hawk.

So he did. The weeks passed. They had very little to do with each other in the school. They observed no more than social politeness in each other's company. Lupin was suitably grateful for the wolfsbane potion Snape brewed for him on Dumbedore's command. Other than that, Lupin never sought out Snape's company, never engaged him in conversation without genuine purpose. It surprised Snape. He had thought that Lupin would try to inveigle his way into Snape's acquaintance. He found himself surprised that he minded Lupin's complete disregard for him. Lupin set out to charm and delight everyone else on the faculty. He could put it down to his being one of the few who know Lupin was a werewolf, but Dumbledore had told the other members of staff and they accepted him. Thinking on it, perhaps the beast had the good grace to recall what he had nearly done all those years ago and was still ashamed. Snape would like to think so, but he thought not.

It troubled him. He found himself thinking of the beast more and more. It played on his mind. It started to bother him almost constantly. He started to dream of the wolf again. Sometimes, dark and terrifying dreams. But lately, these were replaced by dark but seductive dreams; not quite the wolf – more the man. Entrancing and bewitching dreams, still frightening but with an undercurrent of eroticism that Snape did not understand. Night after night, his sleep was troubled and disturbed. This took its toll and Snape found himself distracted if the man was in his vicinity, very _alive_ to the creature's presence and felt himself tense at the mere sound of his voice. His dreams became more erotic, his body reacted to this at night, but he would not give in to his body's desire, not even to relieve himself of it. He Occluded his mind to try to assist his concentration during the daytime.

He had told himself over and over that it was no more than his fear manifesting itself, but he knew he was deluding himself. His dreams were no longer wretched with fear. He had developed a powerful sexual attraction to the creature. He loathed himself for it. He was no stranger to self-loathing. It had been his stalwart companion these many years. Although Lupin had done nothing, it increased his hatred of the werewolf one hundred-fold. Snape had tried to convince himself that perhaps the creature had bewitched him so that he would compromise himself. But, again, he knew the dark bewitchings that could so entrap a man, and knew these had not been cast upon him. Somehow he had done this to himself and made himself a sap to that filthy beast.

Worse still, as alive to the creature's every breath, sound and movement as he was whenever he was around him, he had noticed that Lupin was starting to notice him more. Snape had taken to never looking the creature in the eyes, so mortified was he by the attraction, but he could feel the man staring at him. At times they would pass in the corridor, Snape's eyes averted, and the beast would stop and stare after him. It made Snape want to run for the safety of his chamber. He never did. His mask never slipped, but his stomach would churn in misery and horror at what he was convinced would be his imminent discovery.

And imminent it was.

Snape was finishing his patrol for the night and making his way back to his chamber. His skin prickled and the hairs on the back of his neck rose sharply and his breath caught in his throat. "Lupin?" he whispered.

The man moved out from the shadows, with graceful insouciance, his hands in his pockets and a vaguely quizzical expression his face. Snape's heart was pounding. He was sure the beast could hear it.

"Why are you here?" Snape struggled to retain his composure, although he felt weak at the knees and his stomach was fluttering. He felt his face flush and heat accumulating in his groin.

"I think we need to talk, Severus," the man said quietly. "I need to understand what is happening with you."

"With me?" Snape's voice was dry and unflatteringly high. "There is nothing happening with me."

"May we talk, Severus?" The man kept his distance still.

Snape felt trapped. He wanted to run to his room and hide his shame, but he could never show this man, of all men, this _creature_ how weak he was feeling. If he didn't have this pride, he would run away and not speak. But he was ruled by his pride and could not be seen to back away. It was always his undoing.

Snape gave a curt nod, and opened his door and let the werewolf follow him in.

The air was heavy and oppressive. The two men stood regarding each other, one defensive and one nonplussed.

"What do you want, Lupin, at this ridiculous hour?" Perhaps he could bluff this out. He was sure a few well-chosen words could send the man away. He didn't seem to be able to summon his usual sarcasm to his aid. "I'm tired. We both have busy schedules tomorrow, I'm sure."

"I believe you have been asking me here Severus," the man responded, with no change to his demeanour at all.

"What ... I..." Severus spluttered. "That's nonsense."

The creature smiled a small smile that made Snape's stomach knot. Gently, but devastatingly, he said, "I _am_ a Dark creature, Severus. You know this. My senses are very keen. My drives are stronger than most men, and for the past few weeks you have made me very aware of your presence and your desires. The tension around you is palpable. Your sexual scent has become so strong, you have drenched me in your longing. It is so strong, I can no longer sleep. You are driving me to distraction." His voice was hoarse. It was attractive. His brow furrowed. "I have kept my distance from you because I know you dislike me, and that you fear my affliction with good reason. I thought this was the right thing to do. Now you are drawing me to you, yet still you hate me. I smell and sense that too as strongly as your desire. I don't know what you want from me, Severus."

It was true that the air felt laden with anticipation, strongly scented by desire. Snape did not know if it was his or the creature's. He was fast becoming overwhelmed by his desire, unmanned by his weakness. Had he not had his back to his own chair, he thought his legs would give way. But more than this, he was mortified. He had not been able to hide his desire – this unwanted, unwelcome abomination of a desire. His skin crawled with shame at his inability to control himself. He was sinking into the eyes of the creature. Not red. Not red. Blue – soft, welcoming, gentle blue.

Lupin took a step forward. "Severus? Can you speak to me at all? Shall I go?"

Snape cast his eyes about himself wildly. He felt lost. He was almost drunk with desire, but his mind screamed at him to cast the creature out from his room. "Stay," he heard himself mutter.

Did he need to even speak at all? The creature had all the information it needed, and Snape was almost passed all rationality now to articulate his desire. He leant back against the back of the chair to stabilise himself, his hands bracing him. His breathing had become shallow and rapid and he could not raise his eyes to meet Lupin's. Shame and desire battled in him. His head with thick with desire and confusion. It was like a drug – perhaps that is what attraction to a Dark creature meant in reality.

He hadn't noticed Lupin move, but he was suddenly in front of him, one hand on his shoulder. Reflexively, with no understanding why he did it, Snape closed his eyes and stoked his own cheek against that hand. The shock it sent through his body was terrific, and he heard Lupin gasp. Then he had felt it too. Lupin then knelt before Snape and tried to raise his chin with his index finger so he could look into his eyes, but Snape could not look at the beast.

"Severus. I don't want to do anything you don't want me to. Talk to me, Severus. Your signals are," a small, rueful chuckle "mixed."

Snape breathed deeply for what seemed to be a long time. Then, he twisted his head, as if clearing his mind and looked at Lupin. His voice was strong. "I want you to screw me. That is what I want – that is all I want. That is what I need. It is not deep and it is not meaningful. You will not kiss me, and I do not want your affection. Consider it a transaction. I need to satisfy this desire, and you can satisfy yours with me as you will within these parameters. I will be compliant."

"I had no idea," the creature said, almost inaudibly. His eyes had widened and his eye brows had risen. Snape felt he regained some measure of self-control because he knew he had shocked the creature. But he also noticed that the creature's pupils had dilated, and his tongue slipped along his lips. Even these small movements thickened Snape's desire.

He waited for Lupin to try to start a discussion on this, but he was mistaken. The creature stood and began to undress, in a matter of fact, brisk manner. He gestured to Snape to do the same. "I expect to see all of you," he commanded, a harsh edge to his voice that Snape had not heard before. Their clothes were shed quickly.

The creature's body was enmeshed with cursed scars and one very obvious bite. His skin was pale and the creature was slim, sinewy and taut. It was very different to Snape's thin frame. The creature was fully engorged and ready. Snape's eyes feasted on it all and it strengthened his desire.

Lupin's hands reached out to Snape's shoulders and turned him around quickly. He pressed his chest against Snape's back. Snape could feel the creature's cock pressed against his backside. The creature's arms snaked around his waist and found his genitals. He stroked Snape's shaft with long, hard, brisk strokes with one hand, whilst the other messaged his balls. He was not gentle, but the strength of stroke was driving Snape to a frenzy as he leant back into Lupin's body. He wondered how long he could last. His whole body was now on fire and his balls were screaming for release.

Then the creature began to bite and suck Snape's neck and shoulders, gently at first, becoming harder until they were drawing blood to the surface. He moved over both shoulders and up and down the sides and back of Snape's neck, leaving bites and bruises. All of sudden, the creature removed his hands from Snape's genitals and held his hips and moved his mouth to Snape's ear, his breathing heavy and ragged.

"Hands and knees," he growled. Snape complied, feeling both ashamed and excited beyond endurance.

The werewolf kneeled behind Snape, and prepared him with swift, efficient strokes and lined himself with Snape's opening and brushed the sensitive head around the opening. It was all Snape could do not to rock back on it, so much did he crave it.

He heard the creature draw a long breath, then he pushed himself fully into Snape. Snape bit into his own lip so that his cry would not escape. The creature hurt him, but it was a hurt Snape was desperate for.

The werewolf gripped Snape's slim hips hard, and began to move. His thrusts were full and slow to begin with, savouring the tightness of Snape. The creature's breathing was heavy and he grunted with each inward thrust, ensuring he plunged in to his full length. Waves of release began for Snape, starting to wash over him where the werewolf was hitting his prostate over and over again. The nerve-endings across his whole body were now on fire and Snape could no longer control his own orgasm which was fierce and unbidden. The creature was now thrusting into Snape harder and faster than before. Snape's arms were beginning to buckle, and his legs became less steady. Yet, still the creature had not come. It became relentless and after some time, it was becoming painful. He wanted the creature to stop, but he had promised to be compliant.  Suddenly, Lupin cried out hoarsely and Snape felt his powerful release into him. He made to move away from the creature, but Lupin held on to his hips and thrust slow and hard into him twice more and Snape felt the last pulsing of Lupin's orgasm.

Lupin pulled himself out slowly but then moved Snape into a kneeling position in front of him. His hands held Snape's shoulders. Both men were slick with sweat and breathing hard still. Snape's arms and legs were trembling, and he could feel the werewolf's hands trembling on his shoulders.

Snape was starting to calm now. The thick fug of his desire starting to dissipate. What did not lift was his shame. He'd asked to be screwed by this Dark creature; this Marauder. And worse still, he'd revelled in it. There he was kneeling in front of Remus Lupin allowing the man to hold him in place like this. His self-loathing re-surfaced and he felt his rage bubble. He wanted this man gone from his rooms. But he knew he was powerless again. So he did what he always did when he felt powerless. He lashed out.

"Well, Lupin, what a shame none of your friends are still with us to tell them how you screwed the scrawny Slytherin to the floor, dog style – like the animal you are. This must surely be the zenith of your pranking achievements, is it not?"

He heard the man draw in a breath sharply. Lupin's hand darted from his shoulder and he grasped Snape's his mouth and chin in a painful cinch and twisted his head towards him. Snape knew the man was furious. Perhaps his eyes would be red as they were all those years before. His stomach lurched. He refused to look into the wolf's eyes. He screwed his eyes shut.

The man's whisper became a hiss. "You have a foul mouth. What kind of a man are you? You drive me to distraction and then offer yourself on a plate and then want to degrade us both. I accepted your offer – Merlin knows, I'm only human with a man's needs and desires. And now you want to make it worse than that? Shall we just be done with it and I'll call you Snivellus as I screw you. Would you enjoy that? Would it help you to hate me more than you already do? Do you need this hatred so much, Severus?" The man's mouth was still pressed to his ear. His angry breath became more even and he moved his head away from Snape.

He released his grip on Snape's jaw suddenly and held both of Snape's shoulders tightly, uncomfortably. Then one hand raked through Snape's hair and curled his fist into it. Snape was sure he would yank his hair, but he did not. Once again, the man leant into the other side of Snape's face. He did not release Snape's hair, but his other arm snaked around Snape's shoulders and chest again and pulled his back into the wolf's chest firmly. His mouth moved to his ear again and he listened to the man's even breathing, not sure what would happen next.

Unexpectedly, the mouth kissed his neck lightly and nuzzled the skin, smelling him. Without doubt, Snape knew the wolf was smelling him. He buried his faced into Snape's hair and then his face travelled over Snape's head to the other side of his face and he bit gently into Snape's neck. Snape gasped. None of this was expected and he was started to feel panic rising in his chest. The wolf settled his mouth to Snape's ear once more.

"You know, if I can't sleep with my lover at night, I usually like to sleep with the scent of my lover so I don't bathe until morning. Tonight, I think I will scrub myself quite thoroughly," he hissed. He then sighed.

Slowly again, he moved his head to whisper into Snape's other ear. "You choose to treat me like an animal, Severus, but you are more of an animal than I am," his voice still a whisper, now quite hoarse. "You desire me still. You loathe me, yet you desire me still. I smell it."

Snape was devastated. Occlumency would never shield him from this man's senses. "I could take you now if I wanted and you would let me." The man let out a heavy sigh. "But Severus, I won't do this your way again."

"You got your rocks off Lupin – don't pretend you didn't enjoy it," Snape croaked.

"It was functional," the man breathed. "It was a release but that was all it was. It was soulless." Snape felt his neck and face flush but still he would not look at the man.

"If degradation is what you desire, Severus, you will have to go elsewhere. It gives me no pleasure."

There was a long pause where they listened to their beating hearts and their breathing.

"It should have been – it could have been – so much more," the man whispered, his mouth still resting against Snape's ear, his breathing creating shooting thrills from Snape's jaw down his body and pooling in deep, heavy desire in his groin. The creature would know that Snape was becoming aroused again, even more than before but Snape did nothing – he would not draw attention to his treacherous body. His blood was pounding in his ears; he was fully hard again and his genitals throbbed. The man had him in his thrall – he was ensnared. He could feel the wolf's heartbeat against this back, his skin against this back, his thighs against his thighs, the man's strong, corded arms enveloping his body, his soft lips against his ear.

Snape had not thought it possible, but the wolf's voice became quieter still and low like a growl – it was now quite mesmeric. "I would have used all and any part of me to give you pleasure this night." He drew his ear lobe into his mouth and nipped it gently and released it quickly. "My lips, my tongue, my fingers, all." He pressed his lips to the tendons in Snape's neck. "I would have sought ways to delight you, make your skin tingle and flame so you burst with desire and have to cry out because your body would demand it." He traced his tongue firmly down Snape' neck to his clavicle. "I would have held you close as a lover should, kissed you deeply, over and over, and..." he pushed Snape's head to the side so he could feather the exposed neck with light kisses as one finger brushed the tip of Snape's cock making him gasp ".. looked into your eyes and watched you come." A low moan escaped from Snape' throat.

The man released his hold on Snape slowly and moved back from him. "I will not come to you again unless you want what I have to give." Snape remained naked and kneeling with his head bent forward, eyes closed shielded by his black hair. He listened to the whisper of clothing as Lupin dressed himself. He was then startled when the werewolf draped Snape's own robe over his bare shoulders. This action shamed Snape completely as nothing else the werewolf had said or done: the werewolf needed to cover Snape from sight.

Quiet footsteps and then the door closed. Lupin had gone. Still, Snape knelt there. Stunned, shamed and, he also realised, sore. Sore from the cold and robust coupling, bruised to his hips, neck and face, hurting in his soul. _Soulless_ , the werewolf had called him.

He eventually stood. He should bathe as it would ease the soreness, but found he was too tired. Shattered. He just wanted to lie down, to sleep, to forget. Did he want to forget? He realised as he lay on the bed that he wanted to sleep with the smell of the werewolf – of sex with the werewolf – still on his skin, just as the creature had said. He turned to his side, recalling what the wolf had told him he would do to his body and that he wanted to look into his eyes as he came. The same low moan escaped his throat, his head foggy, his stomach fuzzy, hot and full desire throbbed in his groin again, and he shivered as he imagined phantom arms enveloping his chest and shoulders and hot breath playing in his ears and strong fingers ghosting in his hair.

 


	2. Calm before the Storm

 

 

As distressed as Snape had been when he went to bed by the events the night before, he had slept dreamlessly and awoke the next morning sore, but rested and clear-headed. It surprised him. He thought on it whilst he bathed and applied various balms to his bruises. Had it really as simple as he had said to the wolf last night? That he just needed it out of his system? Wasn't that really rather reminiscent of pubescent jibes made in his last years at school aimed at his rather serious demeanour: _"a good shag would sort him out."_

Yes, he remembered that. As he recalled, it was normally followed by some jibe about his appearance (his nose, his hair, his thinness) or his personal hygiene making the possibility of a lover quite remote. He had always been a very clean man and always found those jibes particularly hurtful. He found he didn't much care what was said about his looks: he knew he was unpleasing to the eye. His father had made sure he understood that from a very early age. Oh yes. His blessed father who had ensured that his son understood how very little intrinsic value he had as a son. But he had one thing his father could never have and could never take away from him: his magic. Snape worshipped his magic, the power that it gave him, the possibilities it would open up for him. Magic and school would be his escape from misery, wouldn't they? It was never that straightforward for him though, was it?

No time for reverie, he thought as he dressed. He needed to check on the Wolfsbane potion he was brewing for Lupin as the full moon was the next day so the beast had another two doses to take. He sent it by house elf. Then, he strode to the Great Hall for breakfast. He was feeling well today: better than he had for weeks. He wasn't concerned about seeing the werewolf either – he knew the werewolf had been humiliated last night, even if it had cost Snape no small amount of shame himself. Thinking on the werewolf's anger and shame gave him some small pleasure.

oooOOOooo

 After the full moon, Dumbledore told Snape that Lupin had had a particularly bad transformation and was taking some time to recover and asked him to take the DADA classes. Snape assured Dumbledore that the potion had been brewed perfectly and the creature's transformation should have been trouble-free. He wondered if the beast was trying to undermine him although secretly he had some additional pleasure that Lupin was suffering.

Now for the creature's classes. Snape smirked. He only had one lesson plan for all DADA years: page 394 should do it.

oooOOOooo

Once Lupin was back to teaching, Snape received Lupin's curt note to advise he had instructed all of his classes that no-one would be expected to submit Snape's homework on how to identify and kill a werewolf. Lupin thanked him not to deviate from his lesson plans in the future. Yes, Snape felt very much in control once more, despite Dumbledore's dressing down that Snape had come perilously close in his view to breaking his decades-old vow to keep Lupin's secret, however, Snape tried to dress it up.

oooOOOooo

However, he noticed a week or so later that his mood was beginning to plummet again. His darkly erotic dreams began to recur, intermittently at first, then with increased strength and fervour. His desire was growing just as before; he was getting less and less sleep and becoming more and more distracted. Within just over a week, he felt so physically weakened by the lack of sleep and gnawing desire that he wondered if for the first time in his teaching career, he would need to ask for cover.

He was sitting at his desk at in the small hours of the morning, going through his brewing diary, when he recognised the pattern emerging. It shook him to the core, not least because, if this were true, then Lupin would know – just like before.

He used lunar charts to assure that he brewed the Wolfsbane at the correct times in the lunar cycle. Tracing back when his feeling first started to the last full moon, and what was happening this time, Snape could see quite clearly that his mood and desires had attuned to the phases of the moon. The moon was waxing and his desire was waxing with it.

He slumped over his desk and laced his hands over his head in desperation. Would the creature come to him again? Lupin had declared he would not. Would this suffice? Snape tried to think clearly and found his usual incisive brain dulled once again by thickening desire. If his desires were attuned to the moon, was it a natural or a magical connection? Did it stem from himself, or from Lupin? Could it be a curse wrought by an enemy of one of them? He needed to think but he couldn't. He needed to sever it, however it had arisen. He did not want to shame himself again. For the tenth night in a row, he took himself to bed, knowing there would be no rest.

Snape woke feeling wretched after a night of dreams and nightmares in equal measure, and unrelieved mounting sexual frustration, he thanked Merlin that most of the students had left for Christmas. There was a note waiting for him, magically sealed so only his wand could open it. His eyes widened when he saw the sender was Lupin. The message contained the name of a book in the restricted section, _Darke Creatures and theyre Usages in Darke Enchantments_ and the chapter name: _Thralls_. The message scrawled, _"Why did you do this to me?"_

Snape sat down heavily with the note in his hand, staring at it for some time. Thralls were ancient sexual bond enchantments. He knew of them, but to no great degree for, whilst they were Dark magic of the first order, they had never been of interest to the Dark Lord who preferred coercion of a more direct and violent variety.

He had originally suspected Lupin of bewitching him but from his own knowledge knew that was not so. It had never crossed his mind that he had done this to himself. How could he do such a thing unknowingly? Was it even possible? Lupin obviously thought it was deliberate. Snape shuddered. Now the wolf really would be angry and Snape was already nauseous with desire and shame; he did not need fear added to his malaise. For this made him realise that, whilst his deep desire for the creature had returned, his fear had, up until now, vanished.

Another question then occurred and it startled him with its clarity: if he had woven the thrall, why was he not master of the thrall, and therefore of Lupin himself? Why was he suffering to such a degree? Yes, there was no doubt in his mind, he was enthralled to the werewolf, not the other way around.

He needed to know what the book said. He needed Lupin to help him break the thrall and so secure his help, he had to make him understand that he had not woven the thrall.

He wrote thus:

_I did not weave a thrall. Had I done so, would I not be your master? You saw me last month; I am in no better way now. I believe I am the one enthralled. Please give me your assistance. Do you have the book?_

He used the same spell as Lupin to seal it and called a house elf to deliver it. He sat, dishevelled, tired and drained, and waited.

It wasn't long before Lupin arrived by Floo with an ancient leather tome under his arm. He dusted himself off and looked for a long time at Snape without saying anything. Snape kept his eyes downcast. He could not trust himself. The man was in his room again and the effect on Snape was immediate and as electric as the first time. He just would not look. He noticed that his hands trembled slightly so he balled them into fists and placed them in the folds of his robe.

Lupin placed the book on Snape's table. "I'll leave it with you," he said to Snape. "I'm not sure if I believe that you did not do this to me, but I believe you are suffering as I do." Snape was ready to scoff until he looked up at Lupin, and he saw how ashen and drawn Lupin's face was as if he too had had no sleep or food for quite some time.

"The last full night's sleep I had was over two weeks ago," Lupin said. "I can barely eat, and my transformation was the most brutally painful it's ever been. I kept my mind but this time the potion did not ease the pain. Apparently," Lupin looked rueful, "it is part of the thrall." He indicated the book. "Every time I ignore your Call, I become more agitated and sleep eludes me further."

"I promise you, Lupin, I did not do this to you," Snape said quietly and looked down again. Those blue eyes, even though bloodshot with lack of sleep, could ensnare him, he knew. "I don't believe that I have Called you. I don't even know how."

Lupin nodded and moved away from the table and indicated the book again . "Every time you desire me, your desire Calls to me through the thrall's connection. Under your thrall, I should respond and come to you. Of course, I do not, so I suffer."

Without thinking, Snape reached out to grasp Lupin's hand. "I did not know I was doing any such thing. Please stay," he said, not believing he could do this to himself again, all those questions he had intended to ask or work through with Lupin, suddenly gone from his head, and now only one thing on his mind. Lupin pulled Snape to his feet and placed his hand under his chin. This time, Snape did not look away.

"Severus, you know it is a thrall that has made this sexual obsession. You do not want me really and I will not let you humiliate me again. Send me away and then we can work on breaking the enchantment." His tone of voice was compassionate but firm, his eyes were pleading.

"Without the thrall, you could never find me attractive," Snape said, his voice tremulous.

"I don't think the thrall is the issue for us on that score, Severus. Had we had no history and I had come here as a professor, I would definitely have tried to get to know you. You are my age, we have similar interests." Lupin smiled, a wonderful, beguiling smile, and he touched Snape gently on the tip of his nose, and Snape thought he might soon become undone completely. "Who is to say what might have happened between us under other circumstances? I have never thought you unattractive, just unattainable."

Snape's throat was as dry as bone. "You lie," he rasped.

"No," Lupin stated simply, "no. I have no need to lie to you." Lupin lifted Snape's hand that was still holding his own and placed a small kiss on it. "It would be easy for us to have sex now would it not? It is a powerful enchantment and it would ensure our sexual satisfaction. The questions have to be whether we both want to; whether we genuinely desire one another; can we be compatible; will we hate ourselves and each other come the morning, like last time? It can't be how we were last time. I don't want that. It makes me heartsick to add more self-loathing to my life."

"I am intimately acquainted with self-loathing Lupin," Snape sneered. "It's not your monopoly. How we had sex last time is all I know. What you want is alien to me."

Snape saw Lupin's jaw clench and he fancied those blue eyes darkened dangerously. "Severus, love, affection, comfort, friendship – how are these things alien to you?"

Snape looked away again, to have his face brought back gently to feast on those blue eyes. "I may tell you one day, but not this day," he heard himself whisper. "But, I will tell you that I genuinely desire you and," Snape said simply, his throat quite dry, "I do not want to send you away now nor do I wish to hate myself in the morning."

Lupin took Snape's other hand and pulled Snape close. "Then will you take what I have to offer?" Snape nodded mutely. "May I kiss you?" Lupin asked gently. Snape leant in to gently catch Lupin's soft mouth and they kissed deeply and searchingly. Lupin caught Snape around the waist and drew him against his chest while his right hand played through Snape's hair. Snape responded, his arms hands clasping Lupin's hips, pulling them towards himself, feeling Lupin's erection against his own, gasping during the kiss at the feel of it.

They had only started touching, and yet Snape once again found himself at such a pitch of desire. Such strength of desire had to be the work of the thrall! It was almost as painful as pleasant whilst it was unsatisfied. Lupin was manoeuvring Snape towards the bedroom door. This time, Snape thought, he was going to give into whatever the man wanted completely. He disengaged from the kiss and led Lupin to the bedroom hurriedly. They stood on no ceremony undressing. Once before each other naked again, Snape was again transfixed by how much he desired the man before him, how much he wanted to drink in his form and he wondered if Lupin felt the same.

As before, Lupin made the first move towards him, but not to turn him around this time. This time, he drew Snape into another passionate kiss, whilst his hands ran over Snape's back, setting it alight with pleasure. Snape's hands dived into the man's hair, massaging the scalp and running his fingers through it, then finding Lupin's jaw line and neck and running his fingers along those, sparking electricity in his own fingertips. Lupin was moaning gently into the kiss each time Snape's fingers touched his skin. Snape found himself excited by these noises, provoking him to touch the man more and more greedily. His hands, like Lupin's own mirrored on Snape's body, were now exploring Lupin's sides, stomach and back, at first gently then grasping with more urgency to touch and to feel each other.

Snape was hungry for sex, but this type of intimacy was new and fresh and seemed to enervate every nerve ending in his body and he felt once again weak at the knees. Lupin had disengaged from kissing and had Snape almost bent backwards over one strong arm whilst his lips and teeth once again explore Snape's neck and chest. Snape realised he himself was moaning and hissing through clenched teeth at the deep, searing pleasure these attentions were invoking in him, layering pleasure upon pleasure to his throbbing desire. Had he ever been so unguarded?

The man now lowered Snape onto his bed, still firmly kissing and nibbling at his neck and chest, occasionally sucking on the skin. It was all Snape could do to hold on to Lupin's hair as Snape was driven to a frenzy. Lower and lower Lupin's head went, exploring Snape ribs and stomach and further down. When Lupin began to kiss and nibble the end of Snape's too hard cock, Snape thought he would just split wide open with pleasure. Then Lupin drew his tongue firmly up and down his shaft before taking all of him in his mouth and sucking gently whilst his hands massaged his balls and stroked his opening. Snape cried out. He had not expected it. He could feel Lupin smile against his own cock. Then Lupin moved himself back up over Snape, his right hand still working against Snape's opening, using his fingers expertly to prepare him; his left hand now cupping Snape's head close to his own to kiss Snape passionately once again. Both men were sweating and Snape's breathing was particularly ragged. It seemed to be taking all his self-control now not to come before he'd even been penetrated and his whole body ached to be entered and possessed fully.

Lupin stopped kissing Snape, and drew himself slightly away as he positioned his own engorged cock with his hand to enter Snape. He looked directly into Snape's eyes, his blue eyes darkened, pupils dilated with pleasure. There was no doubt in Snape's mind that he could not now have looked away even if his life depended on it he was so enraptured. The man pushed into him slowly, never taking his eyes from Snape's own, soft moans escaping from him matched by Snape's own.

One hand held Snape's hip firmly as Lupin slowly ground into Snape, he then firmly held Snape's own cock and began to stroke it in time. With both of Snape's hands firmly grasping and kneading Lupin's backside with urgency, each thrust was slow and deep, seemingly designed to tantalise and thrill Snape to the point of madness, Lupin whispering "Severus" amongst the moans, almost like a mesmeric chant that sent Snape's head spinning. Lupin bent his head into Snape's ear as he thrust and whispered, "Tell me what you want Severus." Snape's eyes were beginning to water. So much of his usual reticence had already been cast aside, did the man expect him to beg for release? How had the man managed to keep such iron control of himself? Snape himself was almost in pain he was so desperate to come and he realised his moans were becoming almost whimpers of helplessness.

Still Lupin continued his slow and deep penetration occasionally adjusting his hips causing Snape to gasp further, still not quickening, not taking his eyes from Snape. "Please," Snape almost choked on his own desire, "please Remus, I need... please I need you to ... faster and harder!"

Lupin's eyes were still fixed on his and a small smile played on his lips, and Snape thought he heard the man say in the softest voice, "thank you Severus."

Surely and certainly, Lupin began riding Snape just harder at first, his grip also tighter. Snape's breath began to hitch. Deep and very hard. The pace began to quicken. Still Lupin's eyes never left Snape's face. "Tell me, Severus, tell me."

"Please," was all Snape could manage, but Lupin thrust in faster and harder than ever, each thrust eliciting a grunt from Lupin and wrenching loud hitching breaths from Snape, who could no longer look at Lupin as his eyes rolled back into his head, colour bursting in his black vision as his orgasm flooded over him in such powerful waves that he again cried out. Within two thrusts this time, Lupin came too, crying out hoarsely. Snape looked at Lupin and drank those blue eyes deeply, trying to steady his own breath as Lupin slowly pumped a couple of time more before lowering himself onto Snape's chest and calming his own breath, and then kissing him.

He had hated the very idea of this enchantment, of his utter loss of self control, but as Lupin lay down next to him, and pulled Snape back into Lupin's chest and wrapped his arms around him and kissed his head and neck gently, Snape knew he would never have been capable of such sexual abandon had he not been enchanted. A treacherous part of him wished it could continue so he could explore these extraordinary and liberating sensations more. But then, any type of liberation hadn't been part of Severus Snape's life for so many years. Surely, it was too much to ask.

Snape noticed he no longer thought of Lupin as the creature. Indeed, he couldn't think of him as the creature at all. It was as if his mind had fundamentally shifted in perception. He considered the sinewy arms around him, feathered with scars, and thought they were the most wonderful sight he had ever seen. How could a thrall be so strong without intentional casting, he found himself wondering. He wondered what Lupin was thinking now, Lupin who was holding him tight to his body as if he were treasured and who would kiss his head and neck every now and then with affection and caring.

Severus was tired, but he didn't want the man to leave. He didn't want ghost arms; he wanted these real arms around him, just for the night. They could discuss the book and how to break the enchantment tomorrow. Their heads would be clear tomorrow. "Will you stay the night Remus?" he asked quietly.

Lupin's arms tightened and he breathed, "Yes," into Snape's ear and nuzzled his hair.

 


	3. Learning Lessons

It was morning. Snape slowly awoke and luxuriously stretched, feeling unusually boneless and relaxed. He then became aware he was alone in his bed. He glanced next to him. There was an unmade depression in the bed next to him, but no Lupin. He wasn't quite sure if he was disappointed, but then he heard the shower.

 _At least Lupin wasn't singing,_ he thought with a small smile. He imagined Lupin would be the type to sing in the shower. He lay back and ran over the events of last night in his head.

Just like last time, he felt well rested and his head was clear. At least this time, he wasn't bruised, although he ached. But what did he make of it? He remembered his rather brief conversation with Lupin before he'd practically begged _like a girl_ (he thought) for Lupin's attentions. He threw his arm over his face. What was the matter with him to make him behave that way? He recalled he had been rather debauched. He felt himself flush and wondered, not for the first time in his life, if he should throw himself off the Astronomy Tower.

He recalled that in his fuzzy haze of utter physical satisfaction last night, he had contemplated allowing the Thrall to continue, so he could enjoy the physical abandonment he had sampled last night. This morning, he knew it couldn't continue. He had behaved like a besotted fool.

Then he heard the shower turn off. "I'm going to get some breakfast sent to us, Severus, so we can start work on this book," Lupin called out from the bathroom. "Don't mind me," Snape growled. "Make yourself at home." Lupin strode through the bedroom, fully dressed, smiled and stopped to kiss Severus on the head and continued through to the living quarters.

"How very ... domestic," Snape snarled at Lupin, and went for a shower himself. Lupin had obviously come to the same conclusion.

When he joined Lupin, the house elves had delivered a continental breakfast, and Lupin appeared to packing as much away as was humanly possible whilst scribbling notes of assorted pieces of parchment.

"Hungry, are we?" Snape drawled.

"Ravenous, Severus. You forget, I haven't eaten properly in weeks."

Snape had forgotten that Lupin had said that last night. Snape didn't have a tremendous appetite himself but he had a recollection that during their school days Lupin had always eaten enormous amounts of food for such a slim boy, except of course for a couple of days in every month. He remembered that he had noticed that as part of the pattern of Lupin's funny illnesses he had so frequently. Why on earth had it taken so long to realise what Lupin was back then? Snape snorted in recollection.

"Good joke, Severus? Care to share?" Lupin was leaning back in the chair, regarding Snape with a thin smile on his face. Snape filled a plate with fruit and some cold cuts.

"Just remembering what a human dustbin you were when we were young, Lupin," Snape said silkily, taking a seat opposite. The temperature in the room suddenly dropped as Lupin slammed his open palm on the table.

"Really, Severus? You still insist on calling me by my surname after last night?" Lupin leant forward suddenly, his smile vanished. "Why do you insist on dehumanising me? You really believe the sordid filth that's peddled in this book?" Lupin's eyes glittered, and his voice was hard. Snape could almost smell a tang of anger in the air, almost see the shimmering of Lupin's sudden fury.

"Habit, that was all," Snape mumbled, and looked away, shocked by how quickly the man had turned on him and how unnerved it made Snape feel. Lupin still had the power to make Snape insensible with fear. Yes, the Thrall had to go.

Lupin breathed out hard and then started looking through his notes, his good mood gone with his smile. Snape could feel Lupin's suppressed anger. Lupin clashed his cutlery and, when he'd finished, he seemed to make as much noise as possible clearing his plate from the table to indicate his displeasure with Snape. Lupin turned his full attention back to the large book, where he had been marking sections of note with strips of parchment.

Snape forced himself to finish every scrap of food in what he thought was a suitably leisurely pace (although his stomach kept clenching with every mouthful and everything tasted like dust). He then removed his own plate and cutlery from the table.

He sat again, stiff and formal in the chair, his face impassive. "What ..." his treacherous voice was hoarse and he coughed to clear his throat. "What have you found, Remus?" He really wasn't comfortable with Lupin's given name now, having had his attention drawn to it. After last night, he knew he should be, but he wasn't.

Lupin didn't look up and Snape saw Lupin's jaw clench. Lupin passed the book, open at the chapter to read, and carried on looking at his notes. Snape read, and as he did so, his neck and face coloured. He could scarcely imagine how furious Lupin must have been when he first read what Snape was now reading.

The chapter described in somewhat lurid detail the _"most bestial"_ attraction that some wizards had for certain Dark creatures, especially those who were _"half-breeds with a Semblance or Glamoure of Manhood"_ (Snape found he really didn't want to catch Lupin's eye whilst he read this). He quickly looked at the front plate to see how old the book was. 17th century – that made more sense – some of the creatures included in this book were not classed as "beasts" or "creatures" anymore, but "beings" and any bond enchantment would be illegal (not to mention, in some cases, suicidal). The author discussed centaurs, merpeople, werewolves, and vampires being those creatures that Dark wizards desired most. If their desire was sexual, this chapter discussed how the attraction could be justified and gratified by use of a bond enchantment. This enchantment supposedly rendered the object submissive to every demand (no matter how unreasonable or unnatural) made by the enchantment caster.

Snape felt these particular wizards certainly had a death wish with most of these creatures. Centaurs, for Merlin's sake. What wizard could satisfy a centaur physically? For sure, merpeople were reportedly seductive and their song could lure a person to a watery grave – but there could be no real prospect of sex surely? Lupin was a Dark creature specialist, he would ask him. He looked up and saw Lupin's face still like granite and Snape went back to his solitary consideration. _Later perhaps._ Always an exemplary student, Snape started making notes, so he would not forget his questions later.

Vampires – well, Dark seduction and mesmerism were part of their powers: that was well-known. Snape wondered whether a Thrall could possibly work against a vampire. He thought not. He found himself genuinely intrigued by these questions, but also mortified that Lupin honestly thought Snape would do this to them both. It was obscene.

" _For certainly, the Darke Creature can be moste Alluringe and Seductive, but it is a False and Vile Attraction, and the Creatures are soulless and theyre Nature is base and coarse."_ Well, "base and coarse" was pretty much how Snape had treated Lupin on discovering he was a werewolf; why shouldn't Lupin think Snape would consider this? _Because I'm not a pervert and I would never use a bond enchantment on anyone!_ Snape thought furiously. And whilst he was shocked by the strength of his attraction to Lupin, he was beginning to think it was neither "false" nor "vile".

The chapter then went on to discuss each creature. Snape flicked forward to the Werewolf sub-heading. There as a woodcut of a decidedly odd-looking man with a wolf's head and what looked like lion's paws. It appeared to be wearing medieval hose! Snape had to exercise iron control not to snort at the woodcut. Now was not the time for humour. He inhaled deeply, pinched the bridge of his nose and continued reading.

It described the werewolf as " _a truly Dark and duplicitous Beast that maskerades as a man or woman for moste of a month. At the full Moone, the Beast within rips asunder its defiled and untrue form and unleashes its true Nature."_ Snape flushed again to even read this in Lupin's presence. The book discussed how the bond enchantment to the werewolf was one of the most dangerous and difficult to accomplish due to the demonic nature of the creature which needed to be quelled by the caster's magical core. It went on to also state that a successful Thrall on a werewolf would produce a powerfully erotic bond due to the heightened animalistic senses and predatory sexual nature of the beast within the werewolf.

Suddenly, he became acutely aware that Lupin was watching him intently. Of course, Lupin had already read this, so he knew exactly what Snape was reading now and he was assessing his reactions to it. Snape ensured his expression was schooled to perfect impassivity, although his heart hammered traitorously in his chest. Unfortunately, he knew Lupin would hear this, and sense his discomfort. There was little Snape could do to disguise either.

A successful Thrall woven on a werewolf ensured that the caster would have control over the appetites, functional and sexual, and a werewolf that denied its master would become weakened through inability to sleep and eat until it learned the appropriate subservience. The Thrall could not prevent a werewolf's transformation, but a successful Thrall would pacify the beast and it would not hunt for human flesh on the full moon under the control of its master. Snape brow furrowed when he read this. Could this ever have been true that there was a way of enchanting a werewolf not to hunt for human flesh? His head snapped up to meet Lupin's eyes.

"Did you see this part about curtailing the wolf's need to hunt?" Snape asked in spite of himself. "Can that be right? Can that instinct be modified?" Lupin's gaze softened somewhat and he gave a small shrug and indicated that Snape should continue to read. Snape scribbled furiously.

The book then went on to advise that the werewolf who did not obey its master would suffer even more brutal transformations as part of the inherent punishment layers in the Thrall. Part of the Thrall enchantment would loosen the pain enhancement bonds when the werewolf had been compliant. Snape flinched unwittingly, thinking of Lupin's painful transformation last month and that he suspected Snape had inflicted this deliberately on him. "I did not do this to you, Remus," he said hoarsely, holding Lupin's gaze. "I promise I did not." Lupin looked sadly away.

The book went on to describe how all Dark creatures, even those without human form or semblance, were darkly seductive creatures that could even lure a blameless, right-thinking wizard away from the path of respectability and normality and, by their _"nefarious Blandishments",_ corrupt said wizard to a " _path of deviancy"._ For those of a " _deviant disposition,"_ there were Arts that could make the Dark creature _"pliable"_ and _"malleable to the Dark Wizard's every Whim and Base Desire."_

Snape snorted. "What nefarious blandishments does a Hinkypunk have precisely?" Snape asked the book quietly. Lupin looked up, startled.

Snape looked defensively at the book. "Well, it's nonsense – all Dark creatures having nefarious blandishments ... I mean... " Snape whispered, colouring again, concerned Lupin would become angry again. Lupin was staring at Snape quite oddly. Snape fancied he saw a slight smirk play at the corners of Lupin's mouth.

The atmosphere lightened slightly and Snape carried on reading. Whilst the author clearly was hoping to justify some rather unfortunate references to bestiality and inter-species subjugation, Snape needed to find what how the enchantment was cast, and its counter-enchantment. If the counter-curse wasn't in here, he was satisfied that he and Lupin together could cast it: both had always been exceptionally talented spell-casters and Snape's speciality was creating new Dark spells and counter-curses.

Finally, he came to the enchantment which was in Ancient Greek, Snape was pleased to see. He was more than proficient. There were also the details of the ritual to accompany it. It would take some working out Arithmantically. There did not appear to be a counter-enchantment but he was confident they would be able to deal with it, if this is what they were dealing with.

He looked up to Lupin. "I have never seen this enchantment before and I certainly haven't performed this ritual. Remus, please believe me."

"I do. I did yesterday," Lupin said, relaxing in his chair once more. "I had been re-reading some of that when you called me by my surname this morning. It is so foul for me to read, Severus. I was feeling vulnerable and should not have reacted the way I did." Snape nodded briefly.

He then started to go through his parchment notes passing them to Lupin. "I've made certain observations on things I have read. Look over them; see if you agree." Snape waved his hand at them. Lupin passed his over. "Good idea," he agreed. "I forgot your tiny handwriting Severus." "And I forgot your scrawl," Snape drawled, rolling his eyes.

They went through each others' notes companionably for the rest of the morning, drawing the other's attention to points that interested them and gradually compiling their master list of points.

They had both observed that things appeared off with the enchantment. If it had been performed by Snape, he should be the master of Lupin. It was clear he was not and, although Lupin was not master of the Thrall either, he appeared the more dominant of the two, Snape noted, with some embarrassment.

"That is my werewolf nature though," Lupin added, with a small smile.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "And everyone's always thought you so mild mannered," Snape pointed out.

Lupin shot him a cheeky grin, "Not anyone's who's been to bed with me," he chuckled. Then Lupin's face became serious once more.

"I do feel your Call, Severus. That is exceptionally strong. I resisted it, but I felt appallingly sick every time I did. I think I can resist because I am a wizard, not a Muggle. I noticed that the book said the caster's magical core could subdue the werewolf. So I wondered if the werewolf also had a magical core that could destabilise the Thrall."

Snape started writing again. "Yes," Snape said thoughtfully. "I see that and I think that is a crucial factor. I had wondered if the Thrall was unstable because a third person cast it." He looked expectantly at Lupin.

"Possibly. The book makes no mention of casting by others. We'd need to look elsewhere for that." Lupin took a deep breath. "However, looking at our situation again, what I wanted to say was that I think you have more control that you realise." His eyes searched Snape's, and Snape could tell Lupin was very uncomfortable admitting this. "I can resist it if I am not with you. That first time, when you told me what you wanted, I wanted to leave. I found I could not. It's really not my thing, you see – to be – um, so transactional. We had sex, but even as we did, I was shamed by it. I don't think I have ever felt such a feeling before when it's not full moon. Please don't be offended Severus," Lupin noticed that Snape had flushed rather deeply. "I think it's important that I tell you this, but I don't say this to be cruel.

"I left you and then I had that shocking transformation, even with Wolfsbane, so I started researching what this might mean. I was convinced there must be a curse underlying this – not because I do not find you attractive because I do and I think you've probably gathered that I have a pretty healthy sexual appetite – but because I don't usually behave this way and I don't believe you do either. I know you are a reserved and private man. This was all I found that might cover our predicament." Lupin was watching Snape carefully as he spoke. Snape did his best to remain composed. He found himself oddly attuned to the nuances of embarrassment as Lupin spoke and found he was sympathetic to them, when he would ordinarily have no time for such rambling explanations.

"I was very angry with you when I discovered this. I wondered if this was your revenge – to make me your object - for that night all those years ago in the Shrieking Shack. You made plain I disgusted you from that moment on. I lost count of the amount of times you spat "half-breed" and "wolf" at me in the corridor at school. I lived in fear that you would tell the school I was a werewolf and I would have to leave.

"When I read this book, I was determined that I could avoid you and that I would be strong enough to resist this Thrall, possibly even seek Albus's help to break it. Then I got your note. I believed it straight away. I knew how I had left you that night – you looked so humiliated and defeated. That's not the Severus I know. So I came to you.

"As soon as I was with you, although I could see you were suffering, I felt your Call so powerfully. I was so fearful you would demand that from me again." Lupin finally broke his gaze from Snape's and looked down at his hands. "I couldn't have borne it. I asked you to let me leave, do you recall? I knew if you did not release me, I would have to stay. That's the point I'm making – I was compelled to stay." Lupin stayed silent for a while to let that sink in, and then looked back again, with a rather salacious smile, Snape thought. "But as it turns out, it was a rather delicious night."

 _I could drown in that man's eyes and his smile,_ Snape thought unbidden. Snape shifted in his seat. He had spent so many years repressing his feelings and desires, even before he had learnt to Occlude, that he marvelled that Lupin could speak so freely. He knew there was information he should share, that might assist, but those words were trapped in his throat. He felt he would need to rip them out.

Now it was Snape's turn to draw a deep breath. "I don't deny how much I despised you and not just because you are a werewolf. I already loathed you and your benighted friends. You made my life at school even more miserable than it already was, with your constant pranks and hexes. You never damn well let up. Just getting from one class to another was a minefield around you four, every day, every year.

"Then Black saw fit to trick me into that tunnel ... well," Severus sighed and sat back in his chair and looked at the ceiling. "A life-size, snarling, spittling, monstrous wolf – that's what was there – that's what you were!" Snape's voice was trembling with remembered terror. "You were at the other end of the tunnel and you smelt me and started to bound towards me." Snape glared at Lupin. He didn't know how he expected Lupin to react, but it was not what he saw. The man's face was completely drained of colour and his face was a picture of guilt and misery. "I froze. I was too terrified to move. Blasted Potter pulled me out of your way. I couldn't speak for days. All that happened was Black got detention." Snape's voice rose with mounting indignation. "By all that's holy, that's all that happened! You all should have been expelled at the very least, you, Black, Potter! You tried to kill me." Snape's voice cracked.

He lowered his voice once more, and it became strained. "Your wolf has haunted my nightmares ever since. It isn't just that you are one of my childhood tormentors that sickens me when I am not in the throes of this Thrall; it is that you could have killed me once in your wolf form; and that your wolf form has tormented my nightmares ever since. It is against all reason for me to be attracted to you."

Lupin hung his head in his hands. When he spoke, his voice was dry and he sounded exhausted. "I don't believe there is anything I can say to you that would help other than I was not in on that trick. It's true: the wolf would have either killed you or bitten you so you would have been turned. Severus, I would not have been expelled, I would have been put down. Small recompense to you I know if either of those things had happened, but you must believe me: I did not allow my friends to use me as a weapon. I wouldn't have allowed them to throw your life away, or my own. It was a betrayal of me as well." Lupin's voice was thick with emotion, and then he sighed heavily.

"Your word on that," Snape said quickly and urgently, leaning forward, his whole body very tense. "On your magic that you did not collude in it."

"You have my word on it, Severus, on my magic," Lupin said firmly.

"It is important to me. More than I find I can say right now," Snape murmured. He held that covenant to his heart. Of this whole situation, that he was so infatuated with his would-be killer had truly nauseated him and had fuelled his self-loathing to a destructive pitch on those nights when he could get no rest. He could answer himself now that his lover had been no more than Black's unwitting instrument, not his partner, and he found it gave him some small comfort. He relaxed his shoulders and looked at Lupin again. "Go on."

"As for the pranking and hexing, I pranked with the best of them and thoroughly enjoyed it, but I admit I couldn't control my friends very well with their hexing and duelling. I tried. I failed. I was too weak with them. Wanting their friendship was always my greatest weakness. I never thought you were other than self-assured and always ready with a hex of your own, usually Dark ones. That you see me as one of your childhood tormentors fills me with shame Severus."

"There were far worse things in my childhood than the Marauders, I assure you." Snape said, waspishly. "Your charming games and duels just ensured that I had no respite, nowhere to go," Snape's voice tailed off. "Nowhere to hide from worse ... from others." Snape let out a snort of air and continued, "I'd like to stop this introspective now. I think I will need to tell you these other things. I suspect it may be germane to what we are doing. But I am finding it too difficult now. It is not my way. I need time." Snape cast his eyes to the floor, wondering if he ever could admit to those things he had so long ago tried to bury in the back of his mind.

"I think, Severus, one way or another, we've covered a lot of ground. Perhaps we should go to lunch in the Hall and then maybe see to our own lessons and marking this afternoon. It will give us time to digest what we have learnt about the enchantment and about each other." Once Snape nodded, Lupin briefly squeezing Snape's shoulder then gathered his papers and left.

oooOOOooo

Snape diligently worked through his marking in the afternoon. Once that was done, he started perusing his notes on the enchantment again. The question of who could have cast the enchantment repeated itself as he read. He hadn't worked out yet whether a third person would even be capable. It was frustrating. He thought on their conversation. He undoubtedly exerted some hold over Lupin, but although Lupin was fully aware of his Call, he could resist it. If he was in Snape's presence, he could not resist the Call. However, Lupin wasn't fully subservient and, well frankly, Snape knew he was putty in Lupin's hands. It both repulsed and thrilled him at the same time. Thinking about last night though, Lupin may not have been submissive, but he had certainly _taken care of his needs_. Snape sat back and was quickly lost in the recollection which ignited his passion once more. As soon as he found himself slipping into that hot reverie, he bolted for a cold shower.

Snape sent Lupin's Potion by house elf (he thought that prudent) and did not see Lupin again until dinner that evening in the Great Hall. There were very few there for the Christmas break and Dumbledore seemed to have a twinkle for everyone this particular evening. It was maddening. He caught Lupin's eye a couple of times. He thought he looked unwell. As they left the Hall, he fell into step with Lupin. "Come to me tonight," Snape said quietly. Lupin nodded. "I will."

oooOOOooo

Lupin arrived an hour or so later. He had papers with him, which he put next to Snape's own on the enchantment.

"For tomorrow," he said. He brought out a bottle of Firewhiskey. "For tonight," he smiled. "We should really be more relaxed with each other, I think. Make the most of things."

Snape Summoned two glasses. "I agree," he said. "But I wish to be relaxed in the bedroom." He led Lupin there, who followed, smiling. Snape undid the bottle and started to pour. No sooner were there two glasses poured than Lupin was undressing Snape, deftly and swiftly. It took him by surprise but he joined in, heat pooling in his groin immediately as he felt startlingly thick with desire. Only once they were naked did Lupin draw him into an embrace and kiss him very deeply and searchingly. Snape responded eagerly, their bodies now pressed against each other, their erections caught against each other's stomachs.

Still standing and kissing passionately, their hands wandered firmly over each other's torsos, raking each other's chests and sides, tracing patterns over their backs and down their spines. Their kisses broke as they explored each other's exposed necks and shoulders with teeth, lips and tongues, Snape once again marvelling at the reaction Lupin's sighs and moans excited in his own stomach and groin. It no longer felt alien to Snape to vocalise his pleasure to Lupin who rewarded him with more pleasure for any pleasure shown. Lupin was a heady and intoxicating man. Who needed Firewhiskey?

Once again, Lupin had brought Snape to tipping point, and was now tracing his fingers between his butt cheeks, hovering around his opening teasingly and around to massage his balls. His other hand was lightly caressing his too hard erection, in a manner calculated to drive Snape insane. Snape's told hold of Lupin's erection firmly and he pressed into Lupin, kissing him hard. He knew from last night that he would have to tell Lupin what he wanted if he wanted the man to stop tantalising him. "I'm ready Remus. Please," he breathed.

Lupin guided him back onto the bed, and pushed his legs apart to gain access. Leaning in to kiss Snape fully, his hands swiftly working to relax Snape further until his breathing became shallow and low moans escaped from him. Holding onto Snape's hips and canting them, Lupin then let himself into to Snape gently, this time slowly and inch by inch, softly moaning with each push into Snape's muscles. Snape had wanted him to thrust into him in one movement, but Lupin wouldn't give in to Snape's hands hungrily grabbing his backside to pull harder. His other hand pushed Snape back onto the bed and held his shoulder there whilst he leisurely worked in and out of him, holding his eyes intensely, almost unblinking. Then he leant in again to catch Snape's mouth with his own, searching deeply with his tongue, his hand grasping Snape's erection and stroking it firmly.

His thrusts became deeper and faster, his hand in time with his hips. Lupin was hitting Snape's prostate now over and over and Snape called Remus's name loudly and sharply as the waves of pleasure hit over and over again, radiating through his body to his very nerve endings. Both men were moaning, their bodies sweating, each man panting. Snape writhed underneath Lupin and bucked against him to encourage Lupin deeper and harder still, they moaned against each other's mouths, Lupin murmuring "Severus" over and over again, as their blood coursed in their veins loudly and violently. Finally they came together fiercely, Snape with a moan and Lupin with a cry, pushing the last of his orgasm out. Lupin lowered himself next to Snape and both lay there for a while to steady their breathing, Lupin occasionally brushing light kisses against Snape's mouth and cheek and forehead.

Once they were both calm again, Lupin sat up, and pulled Snape to sit against him, and Summoned the two glasses of Firewhiskey to him, offering one to Snape. "Are you relaxed enough for this now?" Lupin smiled. "I believe I am," Snape said wryly, thinking how very easy it would be to get used to this type of relaxation, but knowing it was only glamour and spellwork.

 


	4. Recollections of Wounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for recollections of physical and sexual abuse

Snape was woken suddenly by the violent hangover headache that assaulted him at 5 in the morning. Groaning, he disentangled his legs from Lupin's and dragged himself to sit on the edge of the bed. He Summoned a hangover Potion and held his head in his heads until it started to take effect. They'd polished off the bottle of Firewhiskey between them last night and had had sex twice more before becoming incapable through drink.

He looked back at Lupin, still fast asleep and breathing deeply. It was the full moon tomorrow. Snape had already worked out that their desires increased with the waxing of the moon. Certainly, last night Lupin had seemed insatiable and Snape had responded to Lupin's increasing demands on his body and enjoyed it although he now ached quite profoundly. Snape wondered what would happen today and tomorrow with a thrill of anticipation. He left the hangover Potion next to Lupin for when he woke up and went to shower.

It was another three hours before Lupin awoke and Snape heard him groaning and stumbling to the bathroom. This time, Snape called for breakfast to be set for them. He was sitting at the table, dressed but not robed, and reading _The Daily Prophet_ when Lupin found his way to the table, looking bleary, but clean. "Did you not take the Potion I left for you?" Snape drawled. Lupin looked blank and Snape Summoned the Potion from the bedside with a snort, and placed it before Lupin.

"I didn't see it," Lupin said sheepishly. "It's okay with Wolfsbane?" he asked before drinking.

Snape hiked an eyebrow. "Well I wouldn't give it you if it were not," he snarled.

"Of course, Severus," Lupin said meekly and drank it down and shut his eyes. There was no need to be that short with Lupin, Snape thought, and it was sensible to question ask, but he was feeling brimful of his old confidence this morning and enjoying the feeling. They ate breakfast in comfortable silence, each reading a section of the newspaper. Once done, Lupin cleared the table and collected all the papers from the nearby desk and spread them out before them.

Snape worked through the enchantment in Ancient Greek, breaking it down into its component parts and then passing it to Lupin for his consideration. Lupin had done the same for the ritual, having always excelled at Arithmancy as well as Charms, and passed his workings to Snape. They worked together to produce improvements on each other's work.

Snape had copied out again that part of the enchantment that seemed to relate to the werewolf's transformation, the loosening of the pain bonds and the control of the blood lust that the book had referred to. He was intrigued by this as he had never heard that such a thing was possible by enchantment. He wanted to research whether it was possible to sever these elements from the Thrall enchantment. If there were a way of controlling the blood lust especially, this would be a remarkable leap forward for werewolves. He scribbled furiously as points and questions occurred to him as he worked through that part of the enchantment. They worked this way until early afternoon then Snape noticed that Lupin was looking at him, chuckling softly.

Snape's hands dropped into his lap and he looked affronted. "And what, may I ask, is the cause of your amusement? As you put is so succinctly yesterday, care to share?" Snape asked wryly.

Lupin smiled his delicious smile that made Snape's stomach knot with warmth. "You have always been so intense about anything that interests you or challenges you. Your concentration was so intense just now, I could picture you at school, as clear as day. So earnest." Lupin, smiling still, reached out, tucked Snape's hair behind his ear and stroked his exposed chin gently then returned to his own notes. The gesture shocked Snape. It was so gentle and unexpected. He swallowed audibly.

"Does affection really bother you so much, Severus?" Lupin asked, leaning back in his chair to regard Snape seriously.

"I told you before: it's not what I'm used to." This was the conversation he had not wanted to have. It was also one that he suspected had some impact on the Thrall and why it was working contrary to its type. He believed that Lupin probably suspected the nature of what he had to say from small things Snape had already told him. He suspected that was why Lupin had been so gentle with him in the first coupling last night. He cleared his throat and looked at Lupin squarely and openly.

"Only one living person knows what I am about to tell you. I do not want to tell you but I think what it is important to what we are trying to discover. But you will tell no-one. No-one, do you understand me?" Snape's tone was menacing, his expression was hard and his eyes bored into Lupin's.

"No-one," Lupin repeated quietly.

"No easy way to start," Snape murmured and sat for a while, steeling himself. "My parents were not affectionate people, not to me, not to each other. My father was a Muggle. Whether he originally accepted my mother's magic, I don't know, but all I ever knew was his hatred of magic. I think he thought he could beat it out of me and my mother. He never needed much excuse but he was especially violent when he drank. And that was frequently."

Just speaking of these things made Snape feel hollow. He hated to remember those times. He stopped again to collect his thoughts from the awakened swirling memories of drunken violence and screaming shouting parents and his own vision blurred with blood. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. "My mother healed my broken bones and bruises, as well as her own, but she was beyond pity for me, although she did enough to keep me well. I learnt not to cry when I was quite young, because it made my father more angry if I cried." So many broken bones, bruises and cuts, Snape remembered. There was a long silence.

"How many times was it bad enough to break your bones, Severus?" Lupin asked quietly.

Snape wasn't sure it was pertinent and was about to say so, but since he knew Lupin's bones always broke and reset themselves or were reset by others and that Lupin's muscles, sinews and tendons tore and repaired themselves every lunar cycle, he quelled his planned curt response because he was talking to a man intimately acquainted with unremitting pain. Instead, he answered truthfully.

"It was usual. I don't remember a time before. It would happen most weekends, once he received his pay packet. He had no restraint. I recall broken ribs on many occasions – he liked to kick me when I was down. I had a broken jaw twice, he fractured my cheekbones fairly regularly too, my nose was broken too many times to count, he would break my arms or dislocate my wrists quite regularly." Snape's voice was quite flat as he recited the litany of damage. Lupin had Summoned a glass of water for him, which Snape drank gratefully.

"You have no idea how I desperate I was to get away to Hogwarts; away from the beatings and my screaming parents where I'd be free to practise my magic. Magic was all I had." He heard a small gasp from Lupin and looked at him wearily.

"All that happened to you before you were 11?" Lupin asked. Snape nodded.

"Most of it. I stayed at school during every holiday except summer. During the summer, I would stay out of the house, out of his way, until he went to bed. I knew he would hurt me even more as I was now studying what he hated so passionately. He caught me occasionally, but it became rare. I could run fast if I had to." Snape smiled ruefully.

"I had no idea that there would be bastards of the same order here once I got here." He shot a malevolent look at Lupin, whose face had drained. He clearly had understood what Snape said last night about finding no respite. He didn't respond and Snape was glad because nothing Lupin could say could make up for his friends' relentless bullying.

Snape drank some more and closed his eyes for a while. "Your friends and you were not the worst of it although it compounded my misery. In my House, there were a select few young men who by virtue of their bloodline believed they had certain entitlements from the younger members of the House." He heard Lupin curse under his breath. "There was a certain amount of random violence to show those of us who were not of the best pureblood families _our place_ in the House, to _encourage_ us to fit in with their ideals. As we got older, services of a sexual nature were expected of us – oral sex mainly, but later, sexual intercourse. We could acquiesce or be forced; the result would be the same."

He heard "Severus, no." whispered now. He turned to Lupin. "What did you expect me to do? This was the House I was Sorted into. I might be sent home if I complained. And complain to whom? Slughorn? He would do nothing, especially against people of influence. Of course, I gave in. I hated it but I did everything I was told because I didn't want to be hurt badly. If I was compliant, I wouldn't be hurt too much. We would still be hurt, but it became a question of degree. But I had my magic, and I was determined to become a powerful wizard. Yes, I was consumed by the Dark Arts because it was the only way I could make myself powerful enough to defeat those who tormented me.

"By the time I was sixteen, I could defend myself from anyone in my own House and most of those who had abused me had left. But after all those years, I didn't just want to free myself of them; I wanted to annihilate them or torture them as they had me. I suppose it's no surprise that the Dark Lord found me so willing a servant. I believed he could free me from my miserable existence." Unconsciously rubbing his left forearm, Snape continued, "I enslaved myself to him – as evil and sadistic as any man who has ever lived. What kind of deal with the Devil did I think I had made?" Snape shook his head sadly and drank more water.

"If you need to ask me questions, do so quickly because I really do not want to discuss this."

Lupin looked stricken. When he did speak, his voice was small and dry. "I had no idea that went on in Slytherin."

"I can assure you it does not happen in my House now," Snape's jaw jutted firmly.

"I'm sure. Then that's a true mark of your decency Severus that you've not perpetuated that cruelty," Lupin said.

"You'd be surprised how often I've been told by parents that we had to live with it, why shouldn't this generation." Snape shook his head again. "So many Dark curses I could use..." he muttered.

"If I may, Severus, I have another question." Snape nodded. "Once you joined the Death Eaters, weren't some of those men from school there also? Did they expect to carry on that way?"

"You're perceptive, Lupin, I'll give you that." If Lupin minded the use of his surname, Snape did not notice. He was in a very dark place of remembrance now. "On the whole, once I'd received the Dark Mark, other wizards feared that and left me alone. There were those, the Lestranges, Malfoy, who expected their ... er ... privileges, if you will, to continue. They considered it their right as purebloods, no matter that I had taken the Dark Mark." Snape's voice was bitter and hard. "I may only have been 17, but I had changed since they had left school. I was not prepared to be their whipping boy any longer. No matter what their blood status or their standing in the Dark Lord's inner circle, I could and did defend myself, using the Darkest of curses so they would learn not to meddle with me. I also set about making myself indispensible to the Dark Lord. A wizard of my creative talent had much to offer him." Snape now sounded dispassionate, almost resigned.

"Did Voldemort ever ..."

"No," Snape cut in. "The Dark Lord enjoyed violence, yes, but not sexual violence, at least not by the time I took the Mark or that I knew of. It pleased him, satisfied him even, to torture others, including his own servants, mentally and physically. He had many methods and means at his disposal. Let us say, he was very accomplished."

"He tortured you?"

"Often. All of us."

Snape dragged his hands through his hair and then rubbed his face and the back of his neck. He was very weary.

"To set it all out so baldly this way: I wonder if I ever stood a chance," his said, barely audibly, and hung his head and closed his eyes for a while.

"When I realised the terrible mistake I'd made with my life, I begged Dumbledore to help me and began to spy for him as a double agent. He brought me back to Hogwarts as the Potions Master. It was my home again, but I'd hoped this time, I would be safe," his voice broke slightly and he closed his eyes again, hoping there would be no more questions.

He felt two strong hands rest on his shoulders and then start to gently massage them, fingers working methodically through his shirt at the many knots in them. His first inclination was to shrug them away, but he accepted the gesture. At least Lupin wasn't sympathising with him. At least, he couldn't see the pity that would undoubtedly be in Lupin's eyes. He leaned forward so that his forehead rested on his arms that he crossed on the table before him. He let Lupin work more insistently on the tension in his neck, shoulder and back muscles. It was a very useful way to comfort him, Snape admitted to himself. Yes, Lupin was a very perceptive man.

After some time, Lupin lifted Snape's head and then rubbed his thumbs under Snape's eyes to wipe away two stray tears of ancient shame that had escaped as Snape had allowed Lupin to massage his back. He looked at Lupin. He did not see pity, as he feared, but sorrow and concern. He also noticed again that Lupin was looking unwell. He slowly drew himself up in his chair, and Lupin sat once more in his own, drawing it forward so he could hold both of Snape's hands loosely in his own.

"You look ill, Remus," Snape croaked and helped himself to more water.

"It is the full moon tomorrow, Severus. I feel the pull of the moon on my body, the first aches preceding the transformation."

"Tell me about them," Snape asked, matter of factly, not caring if this might be considered callous. It would take his mind off his own sorrow.

"I usually start to feel the moon's draw in the two days before full moonrise. It starts with dull aches in most of my bones, my tendons and muscles which become sharper through that time. A mild headache will start at the same time, which becomes quite debilitating by the day of the full moon. I lose my appetite by then as well. If I eat on the day, I am usually quite sick. My temper becomes short, I suppose unsurprisingly. It is nothing in the scheme of things; it is manageable," Lupin said, briskly in response.

"Nothing ... manageable..." Snape muttered, turning the words over in his mind as well as his mouth.

"In comparison ... yes," Lupin murmured, leaving the rest of the sentence unsaid.

_In comparison with every bone in your body breaking and re-setting, every sinew, muscle, and tendon re-shaping to re-form your whole body shape and then reversing the process all within a night,_ Snape thought as he looked at Lupin appraisingly. _I never appreciated this. I knew it, but did not appreciate it._ Snape knew he was only appreciating it now because he had drawn all his old pain to the surface. It needed to be re-hidden. He couldn't afford to empathise with others like this. He felt too vulnerable.

"We've missed lunch. If you're unable to eat tomorrow, Remus, you should go for dinner this evening or you won't be strong enough for your transformation. Your Potion is due shortly," Snape rose from his chair and started to busy himself collecting up their papers and then collected the Wolfsbane, which Lupin drank down.

"Will you not come to dinner too? Albus will be expecting you," Lupin asked.

"I have no appetite. If I don't eat, he will bedevil me with kind solicitations." Snape drew a hand over his brow. "I need some rest now. Will you come to see me after dinner?"

"I will," Lupin nodded, squeezed one of Snape's hands gently and left his quarters.

Once Lupin had left, Snape undressed and crawled into his bed and tried to sleep. He was drained, but no rest would come. All his memories came to him unbidden: painful, shameful and frightening. After what seemed an age, he finally managed to control himself and painstakingly made himself confront each memory so he could compartmentalise it and place it within the matrix he'd created behind his Occlumency barriers. It would take him time over the next couple of days, he knew, but he would manage it, as he had done before. He could not wear his heart on his sleeve, as Lupin did.

After a couple of hours, the whirlwind of his mind had calmed somewhat. The process was not yet complete but he managed to drift off to sleep.

He slowly came awake, aware that he was not alone in his room. Under any other circumstances, he would have had his wand at the ready, but his body told him before his mind had to that the presence was Lupin.

Lupin was sitting on the bed watching him. He still looked unwell, but had changed and smelled of soap. Snape also thought he could smell food. When he looked around, he saw a plate of sandwiches and a small pitcher of juice on the small bedside table. Lupin's robe hung from bedside chair and he was in only his shirt and trousers.

"No man can live by breakfast alone, Severus," Lupin smiled. "Please eat something."

Snape nodded and accepted a glass of juice as he sat up and swung his feet off the bed, with just the counterpane to cover his lap. He took the proffered plate of sandwiches and as he started to eat, Lupin sat down next to him again, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Albus asked me at dinner if I'd seen you today," Lupin said mildly.

"That man doesn't miss a trick," Snape said, rolling his eyes. "What did you say?"

"I told him I wasn't sure, but thought you had some research. I know you publish regularly. I thought that would be safe." Lupin smiled broadly. Snape returned a small, tight smile.

"I wonder what he knows," Snape mused, finishing the sandwiches.

"You can't think he was the caster, surely? Not of Dark magic." Lupin's eyebrows were raised.

"No, no, I don't. But Albus is very sensitive to Dark magic and he can trace even the most miniscule emanations of it. It is never safe to assume that Albus can be kept in the dark for too long."

"Perhaps we should seek his help?"

Snape regarded Lupin and then ran his hand through Lupin's hair gently. "How would you feel about Albus knowing what there is, enchanted or otherwise, between us, Remus?" He let his hand drop and looked away. "It is private. I would hate it," Snape scowled.

Lupin nodded and then spoke softly, but urgently, "Severus, there is something very important that I have to say before the full moon tomorrow." Snape looked up, hearing Lupin's concerned tone. "You must not Call me tomorrow, even before moonrise. You need to understand what I will be.

"It is the time between times when I am neither wolf nor man, probably the only time I truly am the werewolf. Tomorrow I will be a man, but a very different man: a man with the cruel temperament and atavistic instincts of a predator." His voice wavered. "Send the house elf with my Potion please. I ask you, Severus, for both our sakes not to seek me out. I fear what could happen with the Thrall." He hung his head. "I beg you."

Snape was stunned. He had assumed he would spend the day with Lupin, being the full waxing of the moon. He wondered if the full waxing would affect Snape and place him in danger. If Lupin was warning him away, then he must consider the danger real. He grasped one of Lupin's hands tightly and nodded as Lupin looked at him.

"What of now?" Snape asked Lupin. "Must I send you away now?"

Lupin smiled and shook his head. He stood before Snape and undressed. Once he was naked before him, Snape, still sitting, put his arms out and started to trace his fingers across the larger of Lupin's scars on his torso. His touch was soft and enquiring.

"Remus, tell me about your scars," he said as he looked into Lupin's eyes. "There are so many."

If Lupin was uncomfortable with the question and the physical examination, he did not let it show. His own hands hovered over Snape's own.

"Most are scars from when I have transformed alone without Wolfsbane. Because human prey is denied to the wolf, its rage turns inward. They are cursed scars – bites, tears and scratches. Some," he held Snape's hand and traced it over specific scars, "are from bones that broke when the wolf tried to escape from wherever I had confined myself and could not reset themselves in the reversion. Usually, I didn't have expert help with them, not like when I was at school and Poppy tended me so well." Snape picked up the sadness in Lupin's voice. Perhaps he should not have asked, but since their discussion today, his mind kept travelling back to the cruel repetition of Lupin's affliction.

His fingers continued their journey over Lupin's scarred body, and Lupin stroked Snape's hair. His exploration was not driven by desire, but by sadness and sympathy – he was not used to feeling either and they threatened to overwhelm him. And something else, something out of place in this context for him: he wanted to protect Lupin, even though he knew he could not.

He stopped his exploration. "Come to bed, Remus," his voiced slightly choked.

"Are you sure, Severus? It has been a raw day for you." Lupin's eyes were soft with understanding. "I do not want to be in any way a reminder of those men." He really was too perceptive, Snape thought.

"I want you under my hand," Snape said softly. He moved over and held the covers open. Remus climbed into the bed and lay down. Snape moved to straddle his upper thighs and looked down at him for what seemed a long time. He wanted to take in the sight of this man in his bed, trusting him. He kissed him passionately and deeply, stroking his hair and face, but going no further.

It wasn't that Snape wasn't as filled with thick, hot desire as he had been last night; indeed he was. But it seemed to have taken on a different form since his revelations to Lupin earlier in the day and his own thoughts on Lupin later. He felt as if they were both made of glass and they might break. Snape didn't want them to break. His emotions were exposed and raw, his abiding nightmares too near the surface. He wanted the man, but didn't know how to take him without sullying him with those recollections that were too near his consciousness.

Whether Lupin understood what Snape was feeling, or felt the same, Snape did not know, but he slid up the headboard and manoeuvred Snape forward so he was kneeling over Lupin's body. He cradled Snape's back in his arms and drew him forward so that he could kiss his chest and stomach. He explored Snape's chest with his fingers, using them to abrade his nipples as he gasped as the touch, whilst his lips and tongue firmly explored his ribs and stomach until his mouth met the tip of Snape's erection. He slid his tongue firmly down the length of it, returning upwards with small bites and kisses, then feathering the tip with his tongue. He repeated this several times until Snape was moaning, and then took him in his mouth slowly and carefully, one hand massaging underneath whilst the other clutched the back of his thigh to draw him closer still.

The slow eroticism of it made Snape gasp and moan with each movement and he started to move his hips slowly to move himself further into Lupin's welcoming mouth. He braced himself with one hand against the headboard, the other hand clenching Lupin's hair. Lupin sped up, drawing Snape in further and sucking on his cock as he pulled him in and out, interspersing these with licks and kisses, never letting up the speed and friction. Snape's mind lost focus and the heat in his groin was fast travelling out, up his nerves and throughout his body. He rocked his own hips harder and held Lupin's head close, grasping at his hair as he felt himself slowly unravelling with heated pleasure, crying out, as he had never done before, as he came hard into the back of Lupin's throat. Lupin squeezed with hands and mouth to drain Snape fully before Snape almost fell forward but was caught by Lupin's hands and lowered down into a kiss. Snape tasted Lupin and himself in that kiss and carried on kissing until his heart slowed and then laid himself beside Lupin, his strength spent.

"I believe," said Lupin with an impish grin, "that would be a nefarious blandishment."

Snape's eyes widened and then he snorted with laughter briefly and pulled Lupin to him so Lupin lay in front of him with his back to Snape's chest, with his head to one side of Snape's. "I believe so and _that_ would distract any right-thinking wizard."

He placed his arms around Lupin's waist and gently kissed the side of his neck and shoulders. He remembered that Lupin's bones and muscles would be aching and he did not want to hurt him, but he very much wanted to satisfy him. Then he felt Lupin take Snape's hand and place it around Lupin's erection. Lupin then placed his own hand around Snape's and began to pace Snape's stroke. It was a very firm grip and Snape found he was fascinated by the look of Lupin's hand covering his own. Lupin's hands were larger than Snape's; they were very masculine hands. He found he didn't want to tear is eyes away from the two hands moving together, luxuriously and languidly stroking. It was mesmeric.

After some time, Lupin tightened their grips and the pace quickened, he heard Lupin's breath become more ragged against his neck as Lupin started to kiss it distractedly. Lupin's mouth found Snape's and they kissed hard, tongues searching as the pace of the joint strokes quickened furiously and Lupin's breath hitched into the kiss which Snape maintained greedily, even though Lupin was gasping. Lupin then came in hard spurts, still gripping Snape's hand to himself to drain himself in rapid, squeezing strokes. As he finished, Snape bent in to kiss him, hands cupping Lupin's face as he did so.

Then Snape leant his head against Lupin's chest and listened to his heartbeat whilst Lupin stroked his hair in companionable silence for some time. He heard Lupin murmur a cleansing spell as Snape drifted towards a deep, satisfied and dreamless sleep.

 


	5. Warnings not heeded

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains some sexual violence.

Snape awoke to find that Lupin had left sometime during the night. Then he remembered Lupin's dramatic warning about today. He had been convinced the Thrall would demand they spend this day together when the moon waxed full. He had wanted to; had in fact looked forward to it with keen anticipation. He found he was bitterly disappointed. But, there was no doubting the sincerity of the warning. He should heed it.

Today was Christmas Eve. The festival meant little to him but Snape would be expected to attend all the meals in the Great Hall since there were always a few students in attendance. He was behind in his marking and lesson plans, as well as academic research. He resolved not to work on any aspects of the Thrall today. He was fully aware it was a powerful enchantment that had hold of him, but he was certain he should be able to keep his mind off Lupin for a day, even if it was _this_ day.

He showered, robed and went for breakfast. The Headmaster requested he sit next to him and enquired after his current research project. Snape recalled Lupin's cover story, and told Dumbledore some bone dry detail of his latest potion project. Never to be underestimated, Dumbledore suggested a few novel adaptations to part of the potion which rather startled Snape, who then became rather more engaged in the conversation.

On returning to his quarters, he set out his quill and red ink and started on the first year assignments. They were dreadful. Why did he expect anything different? They were always dreadful. The only point of them, as far as Snape was concerned, was to be an outlet for some venting on his part, but he got bored very quickly and found his mind wandering - wandering to the werewolf, wondering if it would be as bad as Lupin had said. Or would it be exciting and demanding. He found he had been very excited by Lupin when he had been demanding with him. Perhaps, Lupin was being over-protective because of his revelations yesterday. Any way he cut it, he couldn't stop being intrigued. He shook his head to clear it. It took all his control to keep dragging his attention back to the job in hand.

Finally, after a couple of hours, they were done. One job put aside, he took another: the seventh year NEWT essays. That was sure to offer something more interesting (albeit not challenging). He slogged his way through these, still struggling to keep his mind to the task. He had always been a man of iron self-control; he found himself maddened by these lapses in it, even though he understood there was no fault with his control itself.

Well, he had filled four hours as meaningfully as possible. The second duty of the day now needed to be done, and he took himself off for lunch.

oooOOOooo

He had eaten far too much. It was unsurprising considering how very little he had eaten over the past few days. _Research, dark memories and extraordinary sex – now there was a combination to distract a man from food,_ Snape thought as he made his way back to his quarters. He would have time for a short nap and then to shower and change. He had promised Minerva a game of chess before dinner. They were both excellent chess players: playing Minerva was always challenging. That would be a good way to divert his attention.

He was feeling full and sluggish and quite sleepy. He sent a house-elf to Lupin with the Wolfsbane slightly earlier than usual. Then he went to bed. _Just an hour,_ he thought, _to sleep off lunch_. As he lay in bed, drifting off to sleep, he let his mind wander to the last couple of nights: the gentleness of last night, the passion of the nights before. As he recollected more detail, he found himself closing his eyes to play out in his mind's eye detailed recollections of passion and of carnality. It was warm and comforting.

Suddenly, Snape found himself waking with a start, his stomach gnawing with painful desire, from a swirling dream of sex with the werewolf. Not with Lupin, but with the werewolf Lupin described yesterday. The dream had been carnal and brutish, he couldn't now quite recollect any details – they had dissipated like smoke, but he was fully aroused and his mind was fuzzy with desire. He'd slept longer than he meant to and he rushed to the shower.

He luxuriated in the heat of the water while he cleansed himself when suddenly he was pushed hard and flat against the tiled wall. He felt the hot breath of the werewolf against his neck from behind him, his hands holding Snape's shoulders against the wall, trapping Snape's arms under his own body, pressing his body against Snape's own, hard and uncomfortably as the shower continued to rain down on both of them.

"Well, well, Severus. It seems you just can't listen, even when your playmate begs you," the werewolf snarled, his voice deeper and harsher than Lupin's; his breath sour. "Do you hate him still? I think you do. I think you must do or you wouldn't ignore his pathetic begging. I think I should give you something to truly hate him for."

The werewolf spun Snape around fast and with unerring speed and accuracy caught Snape's wrists to immobilise them in one strong, large hand above Snape's head. His other hand grasped Snape's face hard and bent in and bit Snape's bottom lip. "How upset he'll be," he breathed into Snape's mouth.

_Not Lupin_ , Snape thought. _The werewolf,_ trying to stop his mind screaming in panic as his heart pumped violently.

Nothing about this man's smell, bearing or look was Lupin. The creature reeked of heavy musk. This werewolf had a harsh cast to his features; his mouth was cruel and sneering, and his eyes were hard and ... not blue. Snape's breath hitched slightly. The werewolf's eyes were almost orange. Snape closed his eyes briefly, edging close again to total panic. _Tonight they will be red._

"I don't have much time before moonrise to play with you Severus," the werewolf taunted, his free hand pinching Snape's skin hard. "I wish you had Called earlier so I could have had longer to savour your fear. It's rather pungent. Tastier than your desire though. I watched you while you slept." The werewolf was drawing his nails of his free hand up and down the length of Snape's torso hard enough to break the surface of his skin. "I think you need to learn some lessons. Your playmate may be considering letting you take him, but I won't allow it."

He bit hard on Snape's neck, making Snape hiss with pain. "You need to be reminded of your place in my pack," the werewolf snapped. With that, he freed Snape's hands at the same moment as his free hand punched Snape hard in the ribcage so he bent over double, winded, and sure something had cracked, and fell to his hands and knees on the floor of the bathroom, trying to get his breath.

The werewolf was on him in a second and pushed him flat to the floor. Snape lifted his head to catch his breath, but the werewolf snatched his hair hard and cracked his face against the floor. He felt his nose break and tasted the blood running into his mouth as he turned his head to try to breath. The werewolf had Snape pinned by his greater body weight, one arm pressing down on Snape's back, and the other had holding Snape's hip as his fingers dug in cruelly to his flesh. He plunged straight into Snape and started pumping him.

There was searing pain, but Snape did not cry out. He had been here before. He knew he mustn't fight because it would hurt more if he did. The werewolf's fingers and nails pinched and grabbed him cruelly whilst he slammed relentlessly into Snape, his sweat dripping onto him, growling and swearing as he did so. The pain was becoming so great and radiating outwards that Snape thought he must soon pass out. He felt the salt of his own helpless tears fall onto his damaged face and sting. And then, to humiliate Snape further, in a sick parody of their first coupling, the werewolf had grabbed Snape's hair to pull it away and he was biting his exposed neck, back and shoulders. Not gentle bites, but bites that drew blood and broke and tore his flesh.

In a small, Occluded part of Snape's mind, he hoped this would signify that the creature was nearly spent. With that thought, the werewolf lunged harder and swore at Snape as he came and then let his full weight fall on Snape, hurting that broken rib more, as he calmed his breathing for what seemed like hours, but in reality was minutes. He released Snape's hair, pulled himself out and pushed himself up so he was straddling Snape. Snape didn't move although he was still struggling to control his breathing. He knew better.

The werewolf leaned forward and let his hands slide up Snape's back until they reached Snape's throat, where they rested and tightened slightly. The shower was still beating down on both of them. "Never forget who you belong to, Severus. Never forget your place," and he let out a sharp laugh like a bark, got up into a crouch and slapped Snape's rump hard as if he were an animal being released.

Whether it was the slap or the reference to knowing his place, Snape wasn't sure, but he suddenly felt a pulse of such pure and enormous rage and the werewolf was flung away from him in a burst of white light, and slammed into the wall with such force that it winded the beast, who keeled forward. It gave Snape enough time to dive to his pile of clothes and retrieve his wand. The werewolf did not have his. Snape's senses were suddenly sharpened as he realised he had the upper hand. He noticed some of the werewolf's clothes in a trail to the bathroom. His wand would be there somewhere.

"Get out, werewolf," Snape spat, crouching low, his wand trained at the werewolf's chest. "Get out before I kill you."

The werewolf got to his feet, rubbing his wrist that had been trapped behind its own body, and picked up his clothes, dressing as he went, Snape following, blood still dripping from his nose, uncaring that he was naked and wet. As the werewolf put on his outer robe, he made to put his hand inside it for his wand.

"Do it, and I will curse that hand off!" Snape hissed, sending a burning hex to that hand. The werewolf, still calm, still sneering, moved his reddened hand away and smirked impudently at Snape, looking at him up and down. "You're a nice tight screw, you know," he leered and then left.

Before doing anything else, Snape immediately strengthened the wards to his quarters, cursing himself for not having thought of it sooner. His privacy wards had accommodated themselves somehow to the Thrall and permitted Lupin entrance at all times. He hadn't questioned that before, so enthralled had he been, but he should have, dammit, he should have. That beast had watched him whilst he slept, just like Lupin had. But not like Lupin ... not at all.

He began to tremble slightly as his adrenaline settled and he went back to the bathroom, clearing the trail of blood he had left, not just from his nose, he noted forlornly.

He looked in the mirror. Well he'd seen that mess to his nose plenty of times before, and his eyes would blacken soon. He was reluctant to try to heal his nose if his eyes were affected. He'd have to see Poppy for that. He pressed his rib – yes, there was a crack there. Plenty of bruising would follow. He looked at the bites. He had salve for those and they would be hidden by his high collar and cravat. He would only see Poppy for his nose.

He went back into the shower to wash away the blood, surprised at how calm he was. But why shouldn't he be? He knew this situation well. Any memories that had not been securely locked away yesterday flooded in on him now as the water pattered away on his head.

The Lestranges had been the worst, by far the most violent: older brother enjoying leading younger brother on to more violent and depraved acts with the helpless young Slytherins. Snape understood the werewolf better than Lupin realised. Snape understood the nature of the beast within when it knew you were powerless. He had encountered it in so many men. He probably understood this better than he understood Lupin's natural affection and passion. He understood the biting too. It marked the submissive; it ensured the weak one did not seek medical help because of the carnal nature of the bite. Yes, he knew all about this. How many times had he had to weigh up which injury needed the attentions of a healer, and which he would learn to attend to himself?

He turned off the shower and dried himself gingerly. He applied balms and salves to the bites, scratches and bruises, he took a healing potion for his internal injuries and then spoke the incantations to fix his rib which did so in a warm glow.

He started feeling anger in the pit of his stomach; churning and rising. Lupin warned him dammit. He should have taken Dreamless Sleep if he wanted to sleep – he knew he dreamt of nothing but Lupin. He should have kept himself safe. Did he bring that on himself? Had he wanted that to happen – so reminiscent of how his sex life used to be? The werewolf was every bit as foul as Lupin warned him.

And now ... now he would hate Lupin.

And he didn't want to.

He felt his breath draw in mightily as if it would suffocate him, and he wept.

oooOOOooo

Dealing with Poppy had been easy. He told her he had slipped in the shower and cracked his nose on the nearby sink. She'd reset his nose quickly and almost painlessly, with a snort, and given him special balm so his eyes would not become blackened. He had got to her in time.

"I've lost count of how many times your nose has been broken, Severus," she said, shaking her head.

"So have I, Poppy," Snape said, with a tight smile. Snape always wondered how much Poppy knew about her charges. He knew she was shrewd. He also knew that she turned a blind eye to many things. However, he never thought it was due to negligence or callousness. He thought it was so children would always seek her help, knowing their secrets would be safe. He turned over her last sentence to him – not "how many times you've broken your nose" but "your nose has been broken" – it spoke volumes to him.

He then went to Minerva's quarters and was greeted by "Good grief, Severus, what _have_ you done to yourself?" The swelling and bruising hadn't quite left his face although it was healing quickly and Minerva pulled him inside and pressed a glass of 30 year old Scottish single malt on him before sitting him down.

"Nothing really Minerva ... silly accident ... embarrassing really ... please don't make a fuss," Snape muttered. She pressed him for an explanation and repeated his story and then demanded she stop wittering and produce the chess board as he opened up his own Wizard's chess pieces.

By the time he had defeated Minerva (very deftly, if he said so himself), darkness had come and he noted that his mind had cleared to pinpoint accuracy. He also knew the bruising and swelling on his face had subsided and he could go to the Great Hall without embarrassment for dinner with Minerva.

oooOOOooo

As he slipped into bed, he turned over the events of the day in his mind. He didn't have to worry about the werewolf now. Dumbledore himself had finely tuned the wards on Lupin's quarters so that they would not open until the wolf was in human form again.

As he had noted earlier, his mind was feeling exceptionally clear and incisive. Soon the moon would wane, and he hoped he would feel stronger again.

He was also truly embarrassed because he realised that this afternoon he had behaved like the victim he had always been when he was young in making excuses for his injuries and he found that shaming. But what could he do? Go to Dumbledore? What would happen to Lupin if he did? They hadn't really begun to work out how to approach the Thrall yet.

He also recalled he'd seen Lupin on the day of the full moon before the Thrall and he had not behaved like he did today – as if another person inhabited his body. Lupin had said he worried about the effect of the Thrall on the wolf. Had he suspected the extent of this disassociation with himself?

Something else the werewolf said occurred to him. _Your playmate may be considering letting you take him, but I won't allow it._ Last night, he had believed that Lupin was offering himself to him. He had let Snape straddle him and Snape had wanted to take Lupin very badly indeed but something had stopped him.

He knew that partly it was because he knew Lupin was suffering with the moon and Snape didn't want to hurt him. He also knew his own memories were too near the surface and he wanted to take Lupin when those memories were locked away so he could enjoy him unsullied.

But he also knew, knew it with certainty at that time but that was now confirmed, that what Lupin was offering had not been offered to any man before because Lupin was a dominant wolf and his wolf wouldn't allow it. Snape was certain of it. He began to be certain that it was this knowledge that had disassociated the werewolf from the man. Lupin knew on some level that what he had offered to Snape would enrage that cursed part of him and he had tried to warn Snape.

Snape had been foolish to toy with the wolf. It would not happen again.

Snape didn't know if the Thrall was responsible for Lupin offering that gift to him or if something else was developing between them because of the nature of the confidences exchanged as well as their passionate intercourse enabled by the Thrall.

What he did know was that now the wolf wanted to break Snape. Snape wanted to break the wolf. Each wanted possession of the man, Remus Lupin.

 


	6. A Christmas Truce

 

Snape had slept deeply and later than usual so that he missed breakfast, and yet he felt weary when he had risen from his bed. Well, of course he would, he admonished himself. He had been brutally assaulted not even 24 hours ago. He needed to re-apply his balms and re-dose his potion. He couldn't expect to be fully recovered in less than a day.

In the bathroom, he stopped and stared at the floor where it had happened then turned to examine himself in the mirror. His nose looked fine, possibly slightly swollen at the bridge. He looked no more than tired around the eyes. Some of the bites and bruises had gone completely and the rest were healing nicely although he most certainly would not be without a cravat for a couple of days yet. The scratches had almost gone, and the bruises to his torso were much improved. He looked back to his face.

"Merry bloody Christmas, Severus," he muttered, and snorted.

He resolved to have a bath to draw out any residual bruising and hopefully this would soothe his sore and aching muscles. He relaxed in the bath until the water went cold and then re-heated the water with a quick spell and lay there, thinking.

Lupin. What would he do about Lupin?

He wondered how Lupin was feeling this morning. How had his transformation gone? Was it better or worse than last month? By rights, it should have been better because Lupin had come to his Call every time. Snape wondered sourly if it made any difference to the Thrall if the _supposed_ object attacked the _supposed_ master.

He shook his head slightly. There was no point in glossing over his own fault in the matter. He could not deny his complicity. He had been intrigued and he had not taken enough care. He had desired it. Had even thought it would be exciting. He had placed himself and Lupin – yes, he should not forget Lupin – in danger. It was brutal. He drew his palm over his face. If he knew Lupin at all, he would be distraught.

He tended to his injuries, dressed and then called for a late breakfast. There appeared to be presents in his drawing room: Albus, Minerva – the usual seasonal trifles. Not long after he'd finished breakfast, Poppy called by Floo and asked to come through.

"Merry Christmas, Severus!" she smiled, still managing to look business-like as she clambered out of the fireplace.

"To you too," Snape inclined his head.

"I'm checking up on my two patients. You're certainly looking better than yesterday. I just want to check your eyes." With that she ushered him to sit down so that she could examine his eyes. "Yes, they're fine, Severus. But one can't be too careful." She started to bustle towards the Floo. "You weren't at breakfast?"

"I overslept. My Christmas present to myself," he said with a small smile. "I will be there for Christmas lunch, I promise. Who is the other patient, if I may ask?"

"Why, Remus, of course," she said briskly. "The Wolfsbane Potion seems unstable Severus. No, no, it's not a criticsm of your brewing. No-one knows better than I the quality of your Potions. But I saw him this morning, and he was extensively injured across his back – broken ribs, chipped vertebrae, bruising, his wrist was dislocated and somehow – accidental magic maybe – his hand was burnt. I've treated them all and they're responding well but he is very downcast. He shouldn't be damaging himself at all on Wolfsbane – I think that's why he's so depressed." Poppy was shaking her head.

"Albus thinks something else is at work. Enigmatically as usual, he won't tell me anything else," she snorted, crossing her arms and looking formidable. "And yet, the first couple of cycles on Wolfsbane went so well. You know, I tended Remus every cycle when he was a student here. Sometimes his transformations were truly shocking. There was so much damage, especially his first year, I remember. There's no helping it, when he's recovered, you and I will have to look into it."

"Yes, Poppy, we will," Snape said, maintaining his composure, although he was startled by just about every aspect of her speech. "I will look in on Lupin later today. I think I should take some notes."

"Yes, of course, Severus. But ... well ... he may not be very responsive." Poppy smoothed down her apron. "I'll see you at lunch, Severus. Keep up that balm for your eyes today." She smiled her brisk smile and left.

 _Albus thinks something else is at work._ He felt a seed of panic germinate in his gut. He could not postpone confronting Lupin for too long if Albus put his mind to investigating. _Not responsive. Depressed._ At least that didn't sound like the wolf. Snape realised he had been fearful that the wolf might not have left Lupin yet. Even if he hadn't, Snape was prepared now and he had no intention of being trusting yet. He'd worked out his own theories on the wolf, but he had to speak to Lupin after lunch.

oooOOOooo

The performance that was Christmas lunch was over, thank Merlin. With some trepidation, he made his way to Lupin's quarters. He knocked but there was no answer. He wasn't sure if Lupin's wards would admit him, but they did. He took a deep breath to try to subdue his apprehension. His heart was racing and he felt nauseous. He entered anyway. Lupin was not in his office or small sitting room, so he went to the door he assumed to be his bedroom. He drew his wand and entered stealthily.

Lupin was sleeping but he didn't look relaxed. He was in the centre of his bed, propped up on his pillows, with his arms out of the counterpane. His face looked troubled, even in sleep. This wasn't how he had seen Lupin sleep just two days ago. That other morning, he had looked beautifully reposed.

Snape went to his bedside cabinet to look at Lupin's books, picked one up that looked vaguely interesting, took off his outer robe and sat in the bedside seat with his wand held loosely in his hand, and waited for Lupin to wake, unsure what he would say or do when that happened.

Nearly an hour passed before Lupin slowly woke. Snape's hand tightened on his wand as he saw Lupin start slightly to see him there. There was no doubt that fear flickered across Lupin's face when he saw Snape's wand. It was replaced by resignation. His eyes (his blue eyes) shone. Snape suspected Lupin was holding back tears. Snape really didn't know what he felt about that either. He had never felt so at a loss at how to react.

"Severus," Lupin said in a small, dry voice. "I ... I ... have no idea what to say to you. Sorry would be so meaningless." His voice gave out and his eyes dropped and closed. It was almost as if he was waiting for the hex to fall on him.

"Nor I you," Snape admitted quietly, never taking his eyes from Lupin. "But talk we must."

Lupin took a sharp intake of breath, winced, and exhaled, his eyes still shut. "That was some powerful wandless magic, by the way," he said softly, grasping his ribs.

 _Ah, his ribs and vertebrae_ , Snape thought. "Shame it came so late in our ... ah ... encounter," Snape muttered darkly. Lupin nodded, still looking defeated.

"Lupin," Snape saw the slight flinch at the surname, "Remus ..." he corrected, surprised he wanted to correct himself. Lupin looked up slowly. "I should have heeded your warning. I was foolish. I believe we should start with my apology to you." He saw the man flinch again as if struck and open it his mouth to protest. "No Remus. I will speak. You will have your turn. But first you will listen to me." Snape's voice was soft, but firm.

"You warned me not to Call you. I did not take heed you. I thought you were being over-protective because ... ah," he sighed and pinched his nose, "because of what I told you the day before. Stupidly, I thought you would just be rather robust with me and I wasn't averse to that. I was idiotic not to realise you were trying to keep me safe from real danger," he spat, his own self-hatred evident on his face. He sat slightly forward in his chair. "I am not saying I absolve you of what you did to me, but I was complicit in it and I will not have you shoulder all the blame."

"No Severus." Lupin was looking at the ceiling. Snape saw his eyes were filled with tears that slowly and silently trickled down his cheeks. "You will not take any of the blame for my assault on you. You cannot say to me that you asked for it. No rapist can ask for that absolution." His voice cracked and he looked down again. Snape had never seen such misery etched on a face he knew and ... yes... _and cared for_.

"If I had not Called you, you would not have come to me. Am I correct?" Snape asked, his voice almost a whisper, as it stuck in his throat.

Lupin shrugged. "I do not know." He looked away.

"If there were no Thrall, I could not have Called you at all. Am I correct? If there were no Thrall, my wards would not have admitted you. Am I correct?" Snape continued insistently.

Lupin did not answer.

"Remus, our circumstances are unique. We are under a powerful enchantment of sexual obsession, through which I Called you when you were in a dangerous pre-transformative state that you had warned me about and which I ignored." Snape's voice rose impatiently then softened immediately. "Yes, you beat me, and you raped me but I hold you no more responsible for that than if you were under the Imperius curse." He exhaled heavily as if these statements were costing him dearly.

"I am not a stupid man. I am not a romantic man. I have been attacked before, and you know it. I have never forgiven those men because they wanted that power over me and over the years I found ways to make them pay. I am saying I do not hold you responsible. That is not to say that I am not having difficulty with it. I am ... struggling too." His voice tailed off.

Lupin was now looking at him, too full of emotion to speak, but he shook his head still.

"I have an additional theory about your wolf that adds to the uniqueness of it which I will tell you later. Firstly, tell me about the wolf, Remus. Tell me about why you warned me. Tell me everything." Snape stood and Summoned a pitcher of water and glasses to Lupin's bedside and poured each of them a glass.

Slowly, haltingly, Lupin spoke.

"At the pull of the moon, I have always been more aware of my lupine nature. More alert, aware, if you will, senses more keen. Once I reached puberty, I noticed that on the day of the moon, my temperament undertook quite a dramatic change. I could become quite cruel. I quickly learnt to keep myself away from others when I felt my mood change. Last month, it felt very different; much more marked. Of course, we then did not know what was going on and I didn't connect anything to it. But I felt a real shift in my mind, almost as if the wolf was trying to push me to one side to become dominant over me, but whilst I was still a man. I felt his cruelty even then. That was what I warned you about. When I left you last night, I had no idea that he would take over completely this time, Severus, I swear to you.

"I slept well enough but when I woke I could feel the wolf pulling on my mind and then I felt my mind go from me. My control slipped away. It was like being shut behind a glass door, looking in but not being heard. I knew he was angry. I knew he was angry about us. I think about the Thrall.

"Then I felt your Call Serverus," Lupin's voice cracked again. "I was so scared. At first, it was mild and intermittent in the morning. I tried to exercise all my will on the wolf. Then in the afternoon, ye gods, it was so strong!" Lupin's head fell again and he brushed his hand over his face. "I was powerless to stop the wolf. He had been looking forward to your Call. I knew then he meant to harm you, to harm _us_ and I could do nothing. He Disillusioned himself ... me, I suppose ... and watched you sleep. I was drowning in the desire in your Call. You woke suddenly and sped off the bathroom. He ... I ... followed..." He uttered a small cry and covered his face with his hands.

Snape knew the anguish was real. He felt it in his own chest and gut. Snape moved slowly to the bed and sat in front of Lupin. He pulled Lupin's hands away from his face and held them.

"Have you heard nothing I have said to you, Remus?"

"I heard it all," he whispered. "I wish I could forgive myself, but I cannot. I want to blame it on the Thrall, Severus, but _I_ was behind those eyes, _my mouth_ spoke those words to you and my body inflicted pain on you and brutalised you. And now you will always see me as your abuser. How could you otherwise? How can you ever know if you can trust me?" he looked at Snape imploringly.

"I can know," Snape responded. "I can find out."

Lupin's eyes widened and he understood. "Then do so," he whispered, indicating Snape's wand.

Snape stood holding his wand in his right hand, and Lupin's face gently in his left. "Legilimens," Snape said softly, holding Lupin's gaze with his own.

Snape entered his mind as gently as he was able. He felt Lupin's admiration and longing for Snape. _For him._ Then suddenly Snape was awash in Lupin's intense mortification; he tasted Lupin's abject fear at the Call; he heard the wolf taunt Lupin as a weakling; taunting him that he would destroy his lover; as good as suffered Lupin's heartbreak when the wolf had beaten Snape and felt suffused with Lupin's shame and guilt when the wolf had raped him and heard the wolf exulting over Lupin, that he had broken Snape, triumphant that Lupin would never now be trusted. He felt Lupin's anguish that Snape would never want him again. He knew it all.

He tasted the bitter gall that had settled in Lupin's being and he wanted it gone from his lover. He withdrew gently and stroked Lupin's face whilst he fought to control his own sorrow.

He sat back down on the bed and regained his composure.

"I believe, Remus, that this Thrall has had the unintended consequence of enabling your wolf to disassociate itself from you to the extent that it takes on, for that day, its own personality: a werewolf proper. As you said, not you the man, not really your wolf, which is no more than an animal after all. I think this werewolf has split itself away because it believes that you will do something that will harm its dominant status, which is, of course, everything to a wolf." Snape waited for Lupin to take this in.

"It said to you that I was considering allowing you to take me and that it would not allow it. I remember," Lupin said, looking thoughtful.

"Am I correct that you have never been taken by a man, Remus?" Snape asked as gently as he was able, trying not to blush himself.

"I would never even have considered it until two nights ago, Severus."

"Why then?"

"I was just overwhelmed by my feelings for you. I wanted you to take me. I wanted you to own me at that time and know that I would never harm you."

Snape leant forward and caught Lupin's mouth gently, squeezing the hands he was already holding. He feathered light kisses on Lupin's lips, his chest feeling full. Lupin kissed him back just as gently.

When he pulled away, Lupin's eyes were blood shot and wide. "But I did harm you, Severus," he said, the sides of his face flushing with shame.

"Your wolf wanted to prevent you giving yourself to me. He harmed me to stop it. I know this Remus. I know. I saw just now. I don't wish it to be stopped. I want it. If I am prepared to try to surmount your wolf's barbarity, perhaps you'd do me the courtesy of doing likewise and not wallowing in self pity," Snape clipped out, and then was suddenly shamed by his own temper.

Lupin stared at Snape dumfounded for a long time, clearly turning over all that Snape had just said. "You are a stronger man than I, Severus." Lupin said carefully.

"Whilst I would usually agree with you without hesitation, today I shall not. Today, I shall argue with everything you say on a point of principle so that you will stop adding to the misery your wolf has mired you in," Snape declared. "I don't know if I am a stronger man than you; but I will be stronger than your wolf. Only you and I will decide what we have."

Snape put his wand into the pocket of his outer robe, took his boots off and then climbed onto the bed next to Lupin, but on top of the covers. He took Lupin into his arms and brought him onto his chest and held him, smelling his hair as Lupin's head leant into Snape's arm. He felt a constricting tightness in his chest of which he had not been aware unravel leaving his breathing feeling wonderfully liberated.

When he was satisfied Lupin was comfortable, he said, "Tell me about your transformation. Aside from the injuries I gave you, did you sustain any others?"

He felt a small smile against his arm where Lupin's head was resting. "So clinical, Severus. No, I sustained no others. Once I transformed, the wolf was gone from my mind. I was in control of my mind again, but in the wolf's body, as it's supposed to be. The reversion was straightforward, under the circumstances."

Snape nodded. He had expected this. "I have to come up with something to explain this. Poppy wants a conference with me about your Potion being unstable. Albus suspects something else is at work, as Poppy put it," Snape informed him.

Lupin lifted his head to look at Snape. "She made a terrible fuss this morning. How could I tell her these were defensive wounds, made on me before the transformation? So I said nothing. I don't know what to tell her."

"Nor I. At present, I'm stumped. I'm sure I'll think of something plausible."

Lupin nestled his head back down on Snape's arm and sighed heavily. They lay comfortably together for a while, Snape stroking Lupin's hair, Lupin holding one of Snape's arms, as if to be reassured of his presence.

"Are you hungry? Have you eaten today?" Snape asked eventually.

"Something light at breakfast. I didn't want much."

"I'll call for something for you," Snape said. "I probably won't eat for a week after being overstuffed by Albus and Minerva at lunchtime, but you need to eat." Snape got up from the bed and tidied himself. It would not do for house-elves to see him in a state of disarray here. Fortuitously, as he finished calling the kitchen, this was the time Poppy called to come through.

"Ah Severus, hello. Taking notes, are we? I'm just checking on Remus," she said brightly. "We have to make sure Sybil's predictions haven't come to pass, don't we!"

Lupin looked askance. "I'm sorry?"

"You are the latest in a long line of doomed mortals whose demise is the dearly-to-be-wished-for new year prediction of our erstwhile Divination _professor_ , " Snape drawled, sarcasm dripping on the last word. "In short, she expects you to be polished off in short order, and you are apparently aware of this because you ran away from her when she offered to tell your fortune!" Snape inclined his head to Lupin with his eyebrows raised, as if asking how he possibly could have refused such an offer. A smile pulled at the corners of his lips.

Lupin chuckled. It warmed Snape to hear it. "That woman is incorrigible," Lupin chuckled again. "Still, at least it's deflected her from Harry's imminent demise."

Snape stiffened. He hadn't thought of Potter or the escaped convict Black once this past week. He would have to address this soon, he knew. For now, he resolved to put it out of his mind.

He heard Poppy laugh. "Oh, Remus, you are right. She is incorrigible. And it's good to see you in better spirits. Who'd have thought you'd be such a tonic for the soul, Severus." She gave Snape an amused smile.

"Not I, Poppy," Snape straightened his spine to be ramrod straight. "I assure you, the credit is all Sybil's."

At this point, a house-elf popped in with a tray for food and left again. Poppy nodded with approval. "Well, I can see you're being taken care of, Remus. I do have salves to apply before I go though."

"I'll leave then," Snape made to move.

"Stay, Severus. Poppy won't be long, then you can finish those notes," Lupin said, looking remarkably innocent, Snape thought.

Snape nodded and went through into the small sitting room. Poppy came to him shortly after when she'd finished with Lupin, and quickly checked his eyes and they both went back through to Lupin.

"I'll leave you now. I'm off to make up a four at Bridge with Albus, Minerva and Filius. I'm hoping for an uneventful night. Merry Christmas, boys." She smiled and left.

"Boys, indeed," Snape muttered. He heard Remus laugh softly again.

"How was Christmas lunch, Severus? Tell me about it."

"You eat then, and I'll tell you." He passed the tray to Remus and sat down again, and regaled him with Sybil Trelawney's predictions and Minerva's dry responses, passing Lupin a drink when he almost choked on his own laughter.

"And I had to suffer a reminder of your blasted boggart repelling charm, Remus!" he pretended to be affronted and told him of the giant silver cracker and the hat with the vulture that Dumbledore had worn with pride. Lupin laughed too hard for his damaged ribs and struggled to regain his breath. Snape was pleased to see some colour returning to Lupin's face.

Still chuckling, Lupin said, "Doesn't it bother you that you scare a child enough to be his boggart, Severus?"

"Not at all," Snape said curtly. "In fact, Remus, it shows that Longbottom has a very healthy mind with no meaningful or deeply rooted psychological fears. Fear of a surly teacher is positively healthy and to be encouraged."

"I don't believe you like children, Severus," Lupin said softly

"You are correct in your belief. I didn't like children when I was one; I certainly don't like them now. I am here because Albus installed me here after the end of the war to protect me. I am very knowledgeable and have much to impart, for anyone that is willing to learn. As for the others ..." he waved his hand dismissively. Then he turned his attention back to Lupin.

"I heard about your boggart. The conjecture I've heard from my House is that you're afraid of crystals balls. Now you've been reported as running away from Sybil, that will, no doubt, confirm it." Snape smiled, a little less tightly than usual

Lupin smiled. It was starting to approach the smile that Snape found so attractive.

"I know you want to ask, and the answer is you," Snape said suddenly.

Lupin looked confused. "My boggart," Snape said, "is the wolf." Lupin then looked wretched.

"That was unkind of me," Snape said. "After seeing you in the Shrieking Shack, the wolf was genuinely my boggart but not for long." Lupin looked curious. "Once I became a Death Eater, I became scared of many other things each of which could have been my boggart, but any one of which would have revealed my changing loyalties to the Dark Lord. Using Occlumency, I ensured that my boggart would only ever be the wolf. It was a good, solid fear, understood by anyone who might see it."

Lupin was staring at Snape. "You even felt you had to control your boggart! I'm astonished that you could."

"I learnt control at a very young age. I told you this."

"And how did you render it funny?" Lupin was smiling at him fully now. Snape was beginning to feel more and more relaxed with him.

"You're a half blood, aren't you? Do you remember Wily Coyote?"

Lupin's eyes widened and he erupted into laughter, holding his ribs again. "And what did you have fall on him?" he stuttered through his laughter.

"A piano," Snape said firmly, his lips thin, suppressing his own smile.

"I would've liked to have seen that," Lupin chuckled, wiping his eyes, still holding his ribs.

Snape stood, well pleased with Lupin's humour. "I need to go back to my rooms for a short while. I would like to come back to sleep here. Will you allow it?"

"I will." Lupin looked pleased. "But I won't be much use to you tonight – I'm rather weak."

"The only use I have for you tonight is to keep me company and to let me show you that I trust you," Snape said simply. "I cannot promise you any such restraint in the morning, however," he smirked and noted with satisfaction that Lupin returned a faintly wicked smile of his own.

Snape took the Floo back to his rooms and showered and then re-applied for the final time his balms and salves and took his Potion. He walked back to Lupin's rooms one hour later. He wasn't apprehensive this time, and found his excitement returning but, although he knew his desire was mounting, he would not act on it tonight. Perhaps it was because the moon now waned but he felt more in control of himself and his emotions; more in control of Lupin too. There was a certain satisfaction in that realisation that the wolf had unwittingly handed the balance of power to Snape through Lupin's own remorse.

Snape did not realise at this time that he was now coming close to perfecting the Thrall.

When he returned to Lupin's bedroom, he found Lupin had showered and the bed had been changed, although Lupin was back in it. There were drinks on the bedside table. Snape smiled his small smile. "I think, perhaps, some extra privacy." Snape said, and placed extra wards on Lupin's rooms and Floo.

He undressed and took his place by Lupin in bed. He heard Lupin's sharp intake of breath as he saw the fading bruising and the last of the deep bites on Snape's back and neck and then Lupin kissed them tenderly, whispering over, "I'm so sorry Severus."

"No more of it tonight, Remus," Snape replied softly and he lay back with his back to Lupin's chest and Lupin put his arms around him and nuzzled his hair and neck. They drank and talked of Christmas and teaching and boggarts and all things inconsequential and inoffensive late into the night until they slept.

 


	7. Fear of Discovery

 

Snape was vaguely aware on waking that Lupin had left the bed and then returned to it. The bathroom seemed to be a good idea, so he made the same visit and then flopped back into bed. Not quite the outrageous hangover they'd both had a few days ago, but enough to leave him feeling rather woolly. However, he was awake now and he knew he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep this morning.

He looked at Lupin, who had gone straight back to sleep, with the covers thrown off him. He looked much more rested than he had yesterday, although still care-worn, even in sleep. T he past two days had clearly taken their toll. It was hard to credit the man was only in his early thirties, Snape thought. His thick brown hair was liberally flecked with grey, making him look older than he was. Transformations were traumatic to the human body and obviously drained Lupin's magical and physical core. Snape felt more than a twinge of pity for him.

He sat on the bed, and moved his way slightly towards the foot of the bed so he could take in the sight of Lupin fully, without being observed himself. Snape found Lupin so very attractive: he had a handsome, regular face, and his blue eyes entranced Snape. He found Lupin's mouth, with its full lips that seemed to almost permanently reside in a small smile, eminently sexy. His own dreams would often start with that mouth and what it felt like to kiss those soft lips and what those soft lips did to him. There had been a very good reason that he told Lupin not to kiss him in their first encounter: ultimately, Snape found kissing so powerfully attractive because he really hadn't had much experience of it as an expression of tenderness or passion and he found it very erotic. Kissing could enervate his senses in a way he would not have credited before.

His eyes wandered over Lupin's body and he took in his broad shoulders and chest, his flat stomach, his beautifully taut arms and legs. In his mind's eye, he was kissing every part of Lupin's body. He recalled seeing in Lupin's mind his admiration and longing for Snape; how this man wanted him and, knowing with certainty that Lupin desired him, made Snape feel ... just extraordinary. A small moan escaped from him at the thought. Snape's chest felt uncomfortably full and his stomach started to churn with desire as his blood pooled to his groin once more.

He was close to being overwhelmed by his desire again. But ... but... as beautiful as he was finding Lupin right now, Snape did not want intercourse. Not right now. Not yet. They were both still recovering from their injuries and Snape hadn't managed his memories properly yet. If he had sex now, he was sure he would entrench those memories of being brutalised by the wolf. But he needed to show Lupin he still wanted him, and trusted him as well has needing something physical for himself too. If he didn't reassure Lupin, he was sure that the viciousness of that encounter would overwhelm Lupin. It was important to Snape that the wolf should not win – every day lost was a day won by the wolf.

He looked longingly at Lupin again, who sighed and turned slightly in his sleep. He found he very much wanted to touch, no to taste Lupin's body. This surprised him. It was something he normally didn't care to do, undoubtedly because of his experiences when he was younger when he had been forced to do it, but also because whenever a lover had done this to him, it was rough, scratchy and vaguely unpleasant. But when Lupin had done this to him the other night, he had positively tantalised him to the extent that Snape thought he would lose his mind in the exquisite pleasure he had felt. It seemed to Snape to be the most natural thing in the world to do at this particular moment to show this man what he felt right now.

He moved nearer to Lupin and placed his hands gently on Lupin's stomach, stroking the skin upwards to his chest and softly kissed his breast bone up to the hollow in his neck, moving down again he slowly traced his tongue along Lupin's midriff to his navel. Lupin woke with a moan and his hands travelled in Snape's hair gently, encouraging him with soft sighs at every new touch. All the time, his hands were caressing Lupin's chest and his fingers rubbed his now hard nipples.

His mouth travelled to Lupin's hip, drawing in the hip bone to gently suck on it and kissing across to do mirror the caress on the other side, taking in Lupin's increasing gasps of pleasure. Then he moved his hands to hold Lupin's hips firmly, and he gently touched the tip of Lupin's erection with his lips then flicked it gently with his tongue, recalling how Lupin had pleased him and replicating it, listening to Lupin's breath hitch on that first touch. He licked hard down up and down the shaft and then took him inch by inch in his mouth, still using as much of his tongue as he was able. Lupin was groaning now and writhing softly under him, one hand in Snape's hair and the other on his back, and Snape's own erection had become desparately hard. He was hardly able to believe the increase in desire he felt knowing he was inciting the same in Lupin.

Then he found Lupin's hands pulled Snape's hips around and Lupin himself turned on his side so that their bodies now faced each other. Lupin placed both hands around Snape's hips and pulled him towards his own mouth and took his erection in, sucking him greedily. It took all Snape's control not to release immediately. He moaned against Lupin's erection in his own mouth, finding that too made Lupin groan in response, vibrating against his cock. It was almost more than he could bear. They mirrored each other's greed, pulling each other's erections in and out of their mouths, using lips and tongues and nipping with their teeth, and massaging with their hands to increase the friction and pressure.

Snape's was finding it almost impossible to maintain any concentration and difficult to maintain any rhythm, so he manoeuvred Lupin over him so that he was directly underneath him, hoping Lupin would take the lead with his own thrusts into Snape's mouth. He did, thrusting slowly into Snape's mouth which welcomed him as much as his own distracted body could allow and Lupin also worked against Snape's own cock hungrily and deeply. Both were utterly breathless and slick with sweat, the noise from both no more than guttural moans of pleasure. Snape could no longer stop himself and his fingers dug into Lupin's hips hard as he came into Lupin's mouth, quickly followed by Lupin releasing himself. Both men took each other's hot seed, swallowing, draining and moaning with primal satisfaction for the release. Lupin relaxed onto his side next to Snape and then laid his head on Snapes's stomach, breathing deeply. Snape laid his head on Lupin's hips, feeling completely boneless, his mind full of hot fog and trying to steady his breathing. They both stared unseeing at the ceiling for a while, minds coming back into focus.

Then Lupin sat up, leaned forward and drew Snape into an embrace and kissed him deeply, his tongue tasting them both.

"Good morning Severus," Lupin smiled cheekily as he released him from the kiss, but not from his arms.

"Isn't it," Snape said silkily. They kissed luxuriously for some time.

"I didn't expect..." Lupin started, but Snape kissed him to stop the rest of the sentence.

"I wanted that very much. I needed it too," he breathed in Lupin's mouth. "But I don't know how long before I can..." This time Lupin kissed him quiet.

"Whenever you're ready," Lupin said, still kissing him.

They only broke off because Snape pointed out that Poppy might check on Lupin again this morning. It was coming up to 8 in the morning and Snape didn't think he'd be able to think of an explanation for Poppy if he were still here when she came, although he wasn't completely sure she was fooled yesterday.

He and Lupin agreed that they would go down separately to breakfast. Between them, they cast various charms to clean the room of bottles and glasses, and change the bed linen. Snape cast a freshening charm on the room when Lupin commented that it smelt like a bordello on a Sunday morning.

"I wouldn't know," he drawled with a smirk. Lupin chuckled.

They kissed deeply again then Snape dressed, although he didn't tie his cravat or don his outer robe. He watched admiringly as Lupin wandered naked to the bathroom then he took the Floo to his own quarters to shower.

What he did not expect was to find Dumbledore waiting for him in his drawing room. Dumbledore had his back to the fireplace investigating the contents of Snape's bookshelves as Snape came through. Snape rushed to close his shirt neck as the Headmaster turned to greet him.

"Ah, Severus," Dumbledore smiled, quickly turning back to the book shelves. Snape hurriedly tied his cravat, although he knew Dumbledore had probably seen what he was trying to hide. "After breakfast, I would like to call on your expertise, if I may."

"Of course, Albus. What is required?" Snape was now composed, although he realised he probably looked flushed and dishevelled.

"Harry Potter has received a gift of a Firebolt anonymously. Minerva suspects Sirius Black sent it to him. Before Filius and Rolanda strip it down, I'd like you to check it for Dark magic."

Snape's mouth thinned and he nodded curtly. Trust Potter to ruin his plans for the day.

"Good, good," Dumbledore peered at Snape over his glasses. "Come to my office after breakfast if you will, Severus. Now, I'll leave you to ... er ... clean up." Dumbledore quickly took in Snape's appearance, and then left by Floo.

Snape was furious. How dare he wait in his rooms, knowing Snape wasn't there. He knew, he just knew, that Dumbledore had seen the bites on his neck, his high colour and his dishevelled appearance and will have connected the dots as only Albus bloody Dumbledore could do. _Insufferable man, he knew!_ Snape's mind screamed at him.

His temper suddenly froze. Their research! Where was it? He strode to his desk and exhaled deeply. He'd forgotten that he'd locked it, with the book, in his desk on Christmas Eve. He didn't believe Dumbledore would stoop so low as to break into his desk. However, if it had been on the desk, nothing could have stopped him. He breathed deeply a couple of times, but he was still angry and went to his shower, far less relaxed than he had been ten minutes ago.

oooOOOooo

He only saw Lupin briefly at breakfast as Lupin had come to breakfast later, with Poppy, so those two had sat together.

Snape made sure his mind was well Occluded as he joined Dumbledore in his office, and they had a cup of tea whilst they waited for Minerva to bring the Firebolt.

"Is it Remus?" Dumbledore suddenly enquired, as Snape took his cup and saucer from the tray on the desk.

Snape replaced the crockery on the table carefully and sat very straight to look directly at Dumbledore challengingly.

"Albus..." he started, intending to tell him to mind his own business, but Dumbledore cut across him, unusual in itself.

"Under any other circumstances, not only would I not ask, but I couldn't be more delighted, if somewhat astonished given your unflinching distaste for Remus previously. But Severus," Dumbledore's tone was low and confidential, "I believe you are physically harming each other. Since I know you both, and that this kind of damaging behaviour is not in the nature of either of you, I am asking if there is anything I need to know or if you need my help?" Dumbledore was leaning forward in his chair, peering intently at Snape.

"I don't know what you mean, Albus," he said coolly, although he was completely unsettled.

Dumbledore spoke very slowly and deliberately, never looking away from Snape as he did so, his blue eyes piercing Snape's, looking for understanding. "I not only saw the injuries on your neck before breakfast, Severus, rather distinctive injuries, if I may say so, but I saw your face at Christmas Eve dinner, so recently healed, and noted how you held yourself at the table. It was clear you had other injuries. You will, of course, admit that I had reason to become accustomed to how you hid your injuries all those many years ago." Dumbledore returned the look of challenge. "

"Then, of course, there are Remus's injuries. The hex to his hand, the damage to his ribs and back. I detected magic on those. I believe you inflicted them in self defence, Severus. Am I right?" His voice was gentle and supportive.

"Albus," Snape breathed deeply. "Please. It is our business. I ask you not to pry," he said softly. _What can I possibly say that will not make me sound either like some kind of glutton for battery, or a Dark wizard who's enslaved a werewolf causing his very being to fracture? There is nothing I can tell him that doesn't damn me!_ He was going to say that it wouldn't happen again, except that sounded so ... weak and unbelievable, even if he believed it himself with all his heart.

"You were always a difficult man to help, Severus. If you change your mind, do not think twice to call on me." Dumbledore sat back in his chair. "Minerva is coming."

Minerva walked in briskly with the offending broomstick following her by levitation.

"Albus, Severus," she nodded and motioned for the broomstick to rest itself on Dumbledore's desk. "Of course, Mr. Potter is desperate to get the broom back so he can fly it, but I can't think of anyone that would send the boy such an expensive broom anonymously and heaven knows Sirius Black can afford it! It would be a simple matter to hex it to injure the boy, but I'm worried there may be Darker enchantments, Severus."

"Such a fuss," Snape snorted, his mask in place perfectly. "There could be any number of worshippers of the boy-who-lived who would make such a foolish gift. It could have been anyone. Nevertheless," he sighed dramatically, "I will assist." Minerva rolled her eyes.

Under the interested gaze of Minerva and Dumbledore, Snape removed his wand and passed it slowly over the broom several times, occasionally levitating it to pass his wand underneath and around it, chanting softly all manner of revealing incantations for Dark magic. As he did so, Dumbledore also sat, as if mesmerised, following Snape's wand movements and chanting himself. As Snape was about to start his final incantation, he noticed Dumbledore shoot Snape a sharp glance. It was remarkably brief, but Snape knew he hadn't imagined it. Dumbledore had sensed something; not with the broom but with him. His stomach knotted, but he continued.

It took over an hour, but finally Snape pronounced the Firebolt devoid of any Dark enchantment that he knew and took his leave. He nodded to both Minerva and Dumbledore and strode away.

What on earth had Dumbledore seen about Snape in his revealing incantations? Had he discovered the Thrall? If not, then what? He felt his panic rising and he felt nauseous again. He got to his quarters feeling wretched. The day had started so perfectly and had just spiralled out of his control completely.

He resolved to work on repairing his memory matrix that he'd started before Christmas. He'd neglected it what with all that had happened and there was no time like the present and he very much needed to be in control of himself if Albus Dumbledore thought something was off with him. He called for lunch in his room, undressed to his shirt sleeves and trousers, and then began his meditation.

oooOOOooo

He had worked very hard through his mental Occlumency exercises and hardly noticed how much time had passed. He had missed dinner but he wasn't really concerned. He was satisfied that he'd done well this afternoon.

There was a gentle knock on his door. He opened it to find Lupin, leaning against his door frame with a cotton drawstring bag in his hand. Snape flushed with the sudden, unbidden memory of this morning and it warmed and clenched his stomach. "Come in Remus," he said warmly.

"I haven't seen you all day, Severus, or lunch or dinner. I know you got roped into looking at Harry's Firebolt, but I thought I might have seen you by now. Is everything well?" Lupin followed him in.

"I've had a strange day. Sit. It concerns you too." Snape said, in a distracted manner, and indicated the chairs before the fireplace. "I could do with a drink. Would you like one?"

"Yes please Severus." Lupin removed his outer robe and sat, looking expectantly at Snape. Snape poured them both a drink.

Snape told Lupin about his conversation with Dumbledore. He saw Lupin's face drain and then Lupin knocked back his Firewhiskey in one. Snape knew Lupin was not just thinking about the Thrall but about his assault on himself. Dumbledore had known Snape had had to defend himself. Lupin worshipped Dumbledore like a father. He would be mortified that he thought him capable of assaulting Snape. He noticed Lupin's hands trembled as he topped up his glass.

"Severus," Lupin voice sounded strained, "even though I know Albus has something akin to preternatural acuity, that is truly unsettling."

"That's not all of it. I was asked to examine that broomstick that was sent to Potter for Dark curses. As I conducted my investigations, Albus was doing likewise and... " Snape paused to breathe deeply ".. I think he discovered something about me. But I do not know what – just the way he looked at me." He looked to Lupin, he realised, for reassurance. _How had it happened that he was looking to Lupin for reassurance?_ He sat, facing Lupin. "Perhaps there is a trace of the Thrall. If Albus thinks I have cast a Dark enchantment of this nature, Remus, I don't believe he will spare me Azkaban ..." Snape's voice dropped to a whisper.

_There, he had said it. His absolute fear that Dumbledore would discover this Dark enslavement magic and put him out of Hogwarts – put him in Azkaban. Without Albus, there would be no-one to speak for him._

Lupin reached for his hands and held them firmly. "You did not cast it. You know you did not. Perhaps he detected the trace of it, but not the casting of it."

"Perhaps," he agreed, not wanting repeat his fear out loud. He squeezed Lupin's hands in return, noting that Lupin looked nervous, even haunted, and cursed himself for telling him any of it. He thought he had made real progress this morning in assuring Lupin of his trust in him. But now, he could see the wolf's attack was preying on Lupin's mind once more. Dammit, this was not what he wanted. Now they were both unnerved.

"Remus, come and sit with me," he said softly. Lupin moved over to him and sat between Snape's legs, leaning against them. Snape ran his fingers through Lupin's hair and kissed the top of his head, hoping it would calm him. He got off his chair and sat behind Lupin, with his legs either side of him and wrapped his arms around his chest. He could feel Lupin's heart beating hard, nearing panic.

"Remus, please don't fret this way," he murmured in his ear and kissed it gently. Lupin leaned into the kiss. "Promise me, not to fret. I thought we had understood what that was between us. You and I. Remus," he murmured still, becoming aware himself that his voice had taken on an hypnotic quality. He murmured Remus's name over and over again in his ear, slightly rocking with him. He felt through his arms, Lupin's heart-beat slow and his breathing ease until his whole body started to relax into Snape's arms.

Once he felt Lupin had relaxed again, he loosened his arms and then he pointed to the cloth bag on the table. "What's this?"

Lupin shook his head as if waking from a day dream ( _that is interesting_ , thought Snape). "My chess pieces," he said brightly. "Thought you might like a game. Boxing Day type of thing to do, I thought." Lupin smiled at Snape.

"Now then, Mr. Lupin," Snape got up and collected his chess board and pieces, "you have yourself a match," he said firmly as he set up the board on his coffee table with a smirk. As Lupin set up his own pieces, smiling, as if he didn't have a care in the world, Snape wondered at the change his chanting Lupin's name had wrought. He had not expected that but everything about this Thrall surprised him.

"Do you play much, Severus" Lupin asked mildly.

"I do," Snape replied, confidently. "Do you?"

"Gryffindor House champion, Severus," Lupin chuckled.

"Really?" Snape raised an eyebrow witheringly. "For the honour of our Houses then?" Snape challenged, producing the Firewhiskey with a flourish.

"Challenge accepted," Lupin slapped the table emphatically and held out his glass for a refill grinning broadly.

 


	8. Withholding

Another night with Remus Lupin; another 5 a.m. skull-shattering hangover. Never mind the enchantment or the possible return of the Dark Lord, it seemed to Snape that he and Lupin would die of toxic shock in short order at this rate. He drank another hangover Potion; yet again, he left the remainder for Lupin, stroking Lupin's hair before going for a shower.

There had been no sex last night. Nothing needed to be said after what had been said and done that morning. They had kissed and embraced for a long time before sleeping but neither sought to take it further. At one point, Lupin had said to Snape that he was going to set about wooing him back. Snape snorted at the recollection as he showered. Nobody had ever tried to "woo" Severus Snape.

He charmed his drawing room clear of the detritus of their drinking bout. Of course, he hadn't eaten dinner so he had hardly helped himself. He looked at the chessboard with the denouement of the last game they had played. Best of three: Lupin had won! That was a revelation to Snape. How had he gone through school as a stalwart of the chess club not knowing Lupin played to championship standard? _Too busy marauding_ , he thought sourly.

Well, there wouldn't be too many more unstructured days like this once the students were back after new year. They needed to make the most of this free time they had. He needed to add to his notes on the apparent hypnotic effect he'd had on Lupin yesterday, and put together his notes on what had happened with the wolf, now he felt more emotionally controlled. All of this had to be factored into their considerations on the Thrall. They shouldn't leave it too much longer. He needed more reference books – he didn't want to try to dismantle the Thrall without full information. He was pretty sure these would be difficult to obtain. He would need to take a trip to Knockturn Alley before the students returned.

He got out the papers ready for when Lupin awoke. Merlin knew how long that would be, so he called for tea for himself and set about those notes.

He'd been fairly dispassionate writing his notes about the wolf. It hadn't upset him as he thought it might. He did curse the creature for trying to ruin what had been happening with Lupin. He stopped writing and sat back in his chair to think about this. It had been remarkably intense in a very short time. He had willingly told this man things that had taken him years to tell Dumbledore as part of his rehabilitation. Prior to that, only Lily had known about his father's beatings, but he had never told her what had happened with his house mates. He wondered how much of this trust was the work of the Thrall.

He believed that his attraction to Lupin was genuine, which he simply would have just suppressed at its nascence before the Thrall – as he did with any attraction he had felt. His expressive response to this attraction was the work of the Thrall: he was sure of that. He had simply never reacted in this way before; he certainly had never instigated passion like that before. If the Thrall was broken, he wondered if he would lose the ability to respond to Lupin's passion, or even to be passionate himself. His mouth set. He didn't want that.

He went back to his notes. The moon was waning. If he was correct, his desire should abate during this time and his Call be less strong. Snape thought it would be difficult to test that at the moment because the assault of the wolf had injured Snape so he was reluctant to have sex anyway. But reluctant though he may have been, he could not deny he still had a concurrent desire hat thrummed in his veins all the time like a low level headache. He was irritated with himself both for needing time to recover and simultaneously desiring what a small part of his mind considered his assailant. He sat back in his chair again, feeling bewildered by his emotions – emotions he simply wasn't used to dealing with. _My mind is more fractured than Remus's!_ At least Lupin could blame his on an ancient curse, he thought angrily _. Perhaps, my state of mind is similarly afflicted now – just by a different ancient curse._

During this reverie, he heard Lupin awaken and take himself off to the shower. Snape called for breakfast. This time, Lupin arrived holding the empty Potion bottle, looking absurdly proud that he'd remembered to check the bedside table. Snape gave him a small smile. As breakfast arrived, they fell to discussing the additional notes Snape had made, which Lupin read with interest, his features darkening when he read the notes on the wolf.

"So, to test your theory about the waning of the moon, you need me to stay away from you," Lupin stated, looking disappointed, but resigned.

Snape nodded. " I think so. I think my Call will be less strong and possibly our desires may also be less strong. If we're together in bed until New Year, however," he smirked, "I don't think we'll be able to monitor it impartially."

"I suppose not," Lupin smiled. "My desires are always stronger with the waxing moon, I believe, so I don't know how much the Thrall will affect that. I have to say, being in bed until New Year is a rather delicious idea though," he smiled wickedly at Snape. "Such a shame," he murmured huskily, sending an unexpected thrill shooting down Snape's neck.

"What happened to wooing me back?" Snape mock-chided.

"That was thoughtless of me, Severus, I'm sorry," Lupin's face fell. Snape leant forward and stroked Lupin's cheek and chin. "Don't think on it," he said briskly.

Lupin recovered his composure and then asked with a wry smile, "So do I report to you what I'm feeling, or keep a diary to hand in, Professor Snape?"

Snape raised an eyebrow at Lupin and looked at him witheringly. It became a challenge to maintain the expression in the face of Lupin's ravishing smile, which did not falter. _Damn, Remus was a master at this,_ Snape thought as he felt his expression soften. _That's probably how he got away with so much when we were young._

"Probably, we can just tell each other," Snape said.

"Then you should know that I'm feeling your Call right now," Lupin said, with a straight face. "It's rather strong, considering I'm in the same room as you."

Snape was shocked. He had become accustomed to this undercurrent of desire that had been his constant companion since Christmas Eve when he had resolved to take on the wolf. He had only thought about the Call abstractly; forgetting Lupin was physically attuned to it as well as his keen senses.

Struggling to maintain his calm demeanour, he said, "Is it as strong as when you've felt it before?"

"Severus, it's been constant since Christmas. It is as strong, but it's bearable because I don't resist it. It is not comparable with how it felt at first because I didn't understand what it was then and I suffered under it."

Snape knew the undercurrent of desire that did not wane was the desire for Lupin to offer himself to Snape again. Snape was sure that, if it were to happen, it would happen during the waning of the moon. Snape was sure it wouldn't happen again during the waxing of the moon because the wolf would move to stop it. He was always aware of this desire; indeed, he thought of it a great deal in his quiet moments. He had forgotten how attuned Lupin was to his needs. What use was it now to send Lupin away?

"Severus, I hope you trust me not to hurt you again," Lupin said quietly, stirring Snape from his thoughts.

"I trust you, Remus. I'm not sure how much I trust us together though," he said dryly.

Lupin took Snape in his arms and kissed him lightly. "I told you – I am wooing you. It is important that you be showered with affection and that I not jump your bones at every available opportunity. At least, until you tell me I may," Lupin laughed huskily.

"What do you propose then?" Snape asked.

"We sleep together at night unless you ask me to you during the day as well – that way I meet the physical need to respond to your Call," Lupin suggested.

"Am I obliged to get resoundingly inebriated each night?" Snape drawled.

"On New Year's Eve, without question," Lupin responded, happily. "Other than that, only if the mood takes you."

oooOOOooo

They slipped fairly quickly into a routine of spending the remaining few days of December catching up on some very belated marking of papers and lesson plans, and their own research projects as well as working on the Thrall in their own quarters. After dinner in the Great Hall, Lupin would join Snape in his quarters for the night. They didn't drink, but read or discussed their research or played chess, which Snape seldom won, much to his annoyance and with no small admiration on his part.

They spent the nights in each other's arms and they would kiss and touch, _like teenagers,_ Snape thought. Snape could sense Lupin's sexual frustration. He could smell his desire and, well, his arousal was obvious. But he did not once ask Snape or even hint that he would like to take things further. He did no more than Snape encouraged. Each night, Snape encouraged a bit more intimacy. Snape knew this must confuse Lupin because he would feel through the Thrall that Snape was feeling sexually charged all the time. He wondered if Lupin realised the nature of his injury that was his only barrier; he suspected not.

On New Year's Eve, there was a party for those still in the school over the break. For a small gathering, it was lively and good fun. Snape was always quietly fascinated by Minerva's humour when her guard was down. The unfortunate if oblivious recipient would always be Sybil, but in Snape's mind, that was fully justified. Lupin's wicked sense of humour got the better of him on a couple of occasions, usually to Filch's detriment. This earned him a mild reproof from Dumbledore, which Snape was amused to see left Lupin embarrassed like a schoolboy. Those students that remained were invited, but very few stayed for long after eating, their teachers being too embarrassing to spend New Year's Eve with. Firewhiskey flowed freely once all of the students had left.

Well after midnight, on returning to Snape's rooms with a half bottle to accompany them, they fell into bed, quite the worse for wear and Snape felt quite light-hearted and light-headed. _I will surely pay dearly for this tomorrow,_ he thought gravely and promptly dismissed it from his mind. Lupin was still laughing to himself for transfiguring Mrs Norris into a bony and rather mange-ridden hot water bottle cover, and how Dumbledore had reversed it wandlessly, chiding Lupin like a child. In his drunken state, Lupin found it all too hilarious.

"How do you even think of these things?" Snape asked indulgently, as they kissed deeply and passionately and Snape allowed his hands to wander freely. Lupin reciprocated, leaning over Snape's body.

"Just my imagination. Always been a bit overactive. Probably why I liked to prank at school." He nuzzled Snape's neck. "I've a very active imagination about sex too," he said meaningfully.

"Of that, I have no doubt," Snape tried, and failed, to sound scornful as Lupin traced his tongue around his ear.

"Tell me your fantasies, Severus," he murmured, kissing and nipping Snape's neck.

"I don't have any," Snape breathed, stroking Lupin's spine, keeping his sole, insistent fantasy to himself.

"You must do," Lupin insisted.

"Why must I?" Lupin greeted this with an exasperated sigh and licked the hollow of his neck.

"What do you think of when you imagine us together?" Lupin breathed then flicked his tongue along Snape's clavicle.

"I don't imagine; I _recall_ what we have done previously. 'S very pleasant," he slurred slightly as he gently sucked at Lupin's neck and ran his hands through his hair.

"Go on, use your imagination and tell me," Lupin whispered, kissing Snape's chest slowly.

"I don't ... have an ... imagination," Snape hitched as Lupin slowly rubbed Snape's nipples until they were very hard, kissing his breast bone.

"I do," Lupin whispered suggestively. Snape felt Lupin smile against his chest.

"You would. Your mind is pure filth," he responded breathily as his back arched as Lupin grasped his waist and stroked his sides. "Tell me then," he sighed heavily, stroking his fingers around Lupin's stomach and towards his erection.

"Your classroom." Lupin's hands were tracing down Snape's body lightly.

"My cla...?" Snape would have liked to look outraged, but he was too distracted by Lupin's hands stroking his inner thighs.

"Over your desk." He felt Lupin's smile though the continuing kisses to his chest as Snape gently found and started to stroke Lupin's erection.

" _Over?"_ Snape gasped, not only at the picture forming in his head, but at the hand that now held his cock and the other that was massaging underneath so gently.

"Over," Lupin confirmed, increasing the pressure slightly, continuing to kiss and lick Snape's neck.

"Bending over?" Snape, starting to become breathless now, as both moved their hands slightly faster.

"No. Backwards. You know I like to look at you," Lupin murmured into Snape's hair, speeding up his stroke and massaging Snape's balls more firmly.

"Will I have a full course of yoga before this happy event?" Snape managed, his mind trying to regain control from the imagination he'd always denied.

"Oh, Severus, I believe you are quite supple enough," Lupin chuckled deeply, pressing again against the small of Snape's back to make it arch and Snape moan.

"I hope ... I am not to be ... ravished in public." Snape managed to say and smiled at Lupin's increasingly rapid breathing, trying to maintain concentration on his stroke as the heat in his groin swelled and radiated outwards and set his nerves aflame.

"Certainly not. This sight is for my eyes only, especially as you are only wearing your outer robe."

"Only my ..." Snape was nearing tipping point, and his breath was ragged whilst his imagination proved more than up to the task of embellishing the picture. He was pulsing with heat and desire.

"I must have easy access, Severus. I will be far too impatient." Snape moaned hoarsely at this picture coupled with the now insistent rhythm Lupin was maintaining.

"You will?" he just managed to say, as his eyes began to roll back.

"I will," Lupin breathed into his mouth, looking into his eyes. "It is my fantasy, after all."

Snape could say no more as his orgasm overtook his mind and body and he cried out, followed quickly by Lupin's own orgasm and hoarse cry.

Another vicious 5 o'clock hangover, another hangover Potion. _Happy New Year, Severus._ Severus looked in the mirror and allowed himself a small smile after looking over his shoulder through the open door to the man asleep in his bed. _In my classroom, indeed._ A small laugh escaped him at the same time as a hot burst of desire flared in his gut as he made for the shower. He didn't think he could withhold much longer. He didn't really want to. He hoped he would be healed soon.

oooOOOooo

All the students were due back in school tomorrow. No more lazy, uninterrupted nights in bed. He and Lupin would have to patrol on different nights. He was quite sorry about that but then he supposed he shouldn't allow himself to get used to having someone else in his bed. When the Thrall was broken, Lupin wouldn't want to be in his bed. _And I won't want him either,_ he told himself self-protectively.

It was his last opportunity to try to find new resources. He Apparated from the Hog's Head to Knockturn Alley and made his familiar way to Borgin & Burkes.

"Ah, Professor Snape, sir. So good to see you again sir. Anything specific taking your interest on this visit, sir, or just general research..." Borgin said, oleaginously, rubbing his dry hands at the expectation of a large order from a customer of more the esoteric Dark works literature.

Snape detailed his "research interests" and Borgin accepted the commission to locate the appropriate works and send word when ready.

oooOOOooo

Snape found he was oddly unsettled. Lupin had gone give Harry anti-Dementor lessons. _Anti-Dementor lessons – what kind of ridiculous nomenclature was that? Surely Muggle-raised Potter had named them that!_ Snape thought viciously to himself.

He couldn't deny that he didn't want Lupin spending time with Potter, son of Lupin's late lamented best friend. They had argued about it earlier in the week when Lupin suggested he help scour the castle for a boggart to use. Snape had refused and had made some comment that a run-in with a Dementor wouldn't noticeably affect Potter's academic performance. Lupin told him he was fed up with Snape's sniping at the boy for no better reason than being his father's son. Harsh words followed:

"It is a good a reason as they ever had to snipe at me!" Snape shouted. "Potter and Black, blasted Purebloods who believed they were entitled as any in Slytherin House to their own unique brand of cruelty!"

"No, Severus!" Lupin raised his voice. "You will not say James and Sirius were of a type with Lestrange and Malfoy! What they did to you was barbaric. James and Sirius would never have done that to children. I won't have that."

"They were relentless bullies just the same, and Black tried to kill me!" Snape shouted.

He could see Lupin was losing his patience. "This is ridiculous, Severus, harbouring a schoolboy grudge against a dead man and a child who couldn't possibly have anything to do with anything. And as for Sirius," Lupin was distressed and his voice lowered, "well, you can hardly blame Harry for the actions of that traitor. Please Severus, put it in the past where it belongs. Let it go," he sounded dejected now.

Lupin was right; of course he was, but only so far as he knew the facts. James Potter had cost Snape his heart's desire when he was sixteen. Lily was his one and only true friend; the only person who had ever cared for him as he was – for him, Severus Snape. He had been goaded, day in and day out, and eventually lost her to Potter. Lupin probably had no idea. Some things Snape just didn't deal with well.

And as tangled as that was, knotted in with that was Snape's own gnawing guilt for his own betrayal of Lily. If he despised the boy for looking like and acting like his father, he despised him also for being a constant reminder that Lily had sacrificed herself to save him from the madman Snape had unwittingly put on her trail. He despised him for having her eyes. Despised him for being the object of a sacred vow made to Dumbledore that tied him to protect the boy. Yes, Snape despised him – it was the only thing about Potter he could control.

Lupin joined him after the lesson, throwing himself into a chair by the fire, looking contemplative. Snape handed him some tea.

"Well?" Snape asked softly, sitting next to Lupin. Anyone other than Potter, he would have ridiculed the prospect of producing a Patronus at that age. But he didn't underestimate Potter.

"He did it. It was an excellent start," Lupin whispered.

"Remus, what else?" He touched the tips of his fingers to Lupin's hand.

"I told Harry I knew his father," Lupin said with a sigh.

"I should say you did. Perfect pet pooch you were," Snape said snidely. "Why would you not?"

"Severus," Lupin's voice had a warning edge. "Albus asked me here this year in the hope I could shed light on how Sirius operates as well as help to protect Harry." He shrugged. "After what he did, I don't know that I ever knew Sirius at all. Albus doesn't want me to say too much about the Marauders. He's concerned the boy will go looking or Sirius when he realises just how close he was to his father."

"You think he doesn't know?" Snape asked sceptically.

"I don't know. He asked me about Sirius, but what can I possibly say."

Snape moved to say something, but stopped when Lupin looked up, and Snape saw how haunted he looked. "Come to bed Severus," he said softly. "Let's not argue now."

They went to bed, Lupin wrapping his arms around Snape a little more tightly than usual.

Lupin sighed heavily. "When the Dementors come near, Harry hears the dying screams of Lily and James. He has that memory of his parents, Severus." Snape heard the distress in Lupin's voice. "It is such a terrible thing."

Snape nodded, he felt quite unwell. The dying screams of Lily would be a terrible thing to hear. He held Lupin's arms closer to himself.

 


	9. Perfection

They had both been upset by Potter's revelations although Snape had not let on to Lupin that he was upset at all, let alone why. He had taken a great deal of care to Occlude his mind from Lupin on this matter, concerned he might sense his upset and misconstrue it as some kind of sympathy for Potter.

Lupin had an air of melancholy all the next evening. Whist Snape was upset by the thoughts of Lily's last moments, he did not really relate to Lupin's concern that the boy's memories of his parents were so few as well as damaged. Snape would gratefully have no memories of _his_ own parents at all and told Lupin so. Lupin was appalled. Of course, he knew what Snape had told him of his parents but Snape's off-hand remark had brought it home to him once more.

"I'm sorry, Severus, I've been callous talking this way. It was insensitive of me," Lupin said, kissing Snape on the forehead.

Snape was taken aback. "No, I was being flippant, no more. Even you can't reproach yourself for that." He struggled sometimes to understand how Lupin could take the blame for even the smallest things to himself. He found he was beginning to find reserves of patience he didn't know he had – for Remus Lupin anyway – he, of course, suspected the Thrall was at work because such empathy or self-deprecation would normally irritate him beyond reason.

Snape took Lupin's hand and squeezed it. "You are ridiculously sensitive and romantic, Remus. I can tell you are the product of the type of loving parents who mollycoddle and make fools of their offspring."

"That's rather unkind, Severus, to mock me and my parents. It's true: my parents loved me a great deal. I was turned when I was five. They didn't give me up, as so many do. They nearly ruined themselves financially trying to find a cure for me. Yes, I was well-loved. Their love anchored me through the terrible times of my childhood, of frightening and painful monthly transformations that I did not understand, and they helped me to deal with the nature of what I had become that saw me shunned by most people." Lupin sighed wistfully. "Yes, they loved me and I thank Merlin that I was brought up with such affection and understanding. I was their greatest tragedy but, without them, I have no doubt my path would have been dark, as is the path of so many werewolves."

Snape felt ashamed. He should not have been so flippant. Lupin's parents must indeed have been exceptional people. He couldn't seem to avoid being offensive, even if he didn't want to be.

"Am I romantic?" Lupin's wistful look changed to that small smile which warmed Snape through. "I like to be when I get the chance, but you and I both know what my affliction means on that score. My relationships will not last. Most of my relationships never get beyond casual which is expected. They may not always be about love or anything deep, but they can offer comfort and affection as well as gratification. I'll take those. I don't seek to be alone." He shrugged as if it didn't matter. Snape knew it mattered to Lupin very much.

Since he lost Lily, he had really had nothing but casual dalliances or one night stands, and really not often. To Snape, physical closeness had always been a need rather than a pleasure for him. Perhaps had he had loving parents like Lupin's, things would have been different for him and he would not have been at such a loss when confronted by Lupin's natural affection and open nature. Perhaps, he would not have been such an obvious victim to those at school. Perhaps ... _Such ridiculous and pointless conjecture_ , he thought savagely. But one thing he thought with clarity – Lupin's parents anchored him to the Light. Snape believed that to be true, as true as his own hatred and spite had anchored him to the Dark for so long.

How long he had been in this reverie, he did not know, but he was roused from it by Lupin's careful hands gently caressing his cheekbones and tucking his hair behind his ears. Lupin was kneeling before him, looking concerned.

Snape placed a finger on Lupin's mouth. "Do not even think about apologising to me. Don't deny it - it's on the tip of your tongue." Lupin smiled at him.

Now was the time, Snape resolved. "Remus – I would very much welcome some comfort, affection and gratification," he said gruffly, holding Lupin's wrists.

"Do you think you're ready," Lupin asked concerned, but Snape could tell, also excited.

"I have said so," Snape said, leading Lupin to the bedroom.

They undressed each other quickly. Unexpectedly, Lupin laid himself on the bed first and brought Snape down on top of himself before they started to kiss.

"You have trusted me with yourself Severus, even after I proved myself untrustworthy. I trust you now," Lupin said simply, his blue eyes shining with affection that quite disarmed Snape.

Snape heart beat even faster than usual at this stage. This is what he had wanted, what he had been fantasising for so many nights. He wanted this so very badly.

He found he was so full of desire, he was unable to speak and so kissed Lupin as passionately as he was able, kissing him and stroking him, and as usual driven to distraction by Lupin's gasping and moaning that turned him on so badly. He found he was terribly nervous because he knew Lupin had not been penetrated before. He suddenly realised he would hurt him. He very much didn't want to hurt him

He leaned down to kiss and taste Lupin's erection and as he took Lupin into his mouth fully, he found his own desire was mounting more strongly than he had ever known it and pleasuring Lupin's cock suddenly felt like the sexiest thing he had ever done. He maintained his ministrations until Lupin was wet with sweat and moaning almost incessantly. As he increased his speed, he used his fingers to stroke Lupin's perineum, eventually using one finger, then two, very gently to try to stretch and lubricate Lupin. He felt Lupin flinch at the entrance of his fingers and then try to relax himself.

"Remus, it may be more comfortable for you if I am behind you," Snape said. He knew how Lupin liked to look at him and he was concerned he might hate this proposal, but Snape knew that face to face might be painful for him.

"I'm in your hands," Lupin said, huskily. Snape's kissed him deeply and searchingly, almost to reassure him and gently manoeuvred Lupin onto his hand and knees. He kissed and stroked his neck and shoulders and back and traced his fingers down his spine, whilst the other hand traced his lower back to warm and relax him. Meanwhile, his own nerves felt like they were aflame with anticipation.

Snape's throat was dry and obstructed. His heart was hammering painfully in his chest. His desire was hot and thick, almost painful in its intensity in his groin, his mind completely fogged. He had never felt this pitch of desire that verged on pain and desperation; a tugging on his heart and gut.

A small part of his mind, not yet too befuddled, nagged a warning of _wrongness_ but was not heeded, and then was swamped by consuming ardour as he stroked Lupin's naked, glistening body before him.

He pulled Lupin to him gently still stroking his back and spine, lowering his hands down to his backside and stroking between his buttocks gently. He lubricated his fingers and gently stroked again to try to prepare his lover, but Lupin's body was not receptive and he had certainly never felt such physical resistance and yet Lupin was softly urging him to continue. His overwhelming desire started to ebb somewhat.

At Lupin's gentle insistence, Snape gently pressed the head of his cock against Lupin's lubricated opening and managed to push the head in but Lupin was just too rigid, and a slight trembling shook his body as if Lupin's own body was refusing to comply. Snape noticed there was a faint aura to Lupin's body, which Snape knew was Lupin's magic trying to defend him and Lupin was having to restrain it. It was an extraordinary reaction. He wished he'd had it when he was young.

He wondered if it was the wolf.

As much as Snape wanted him, he didn't want him like this. He wanted Lupin to yearn to be filled, just as he longed for that whenever Lupin took him. He kept stroking his back, "Remus, please," murmuring his name over and over again. Again, it became chant-like, insistent, so hypnotic, resonant and vibrant that Snape found himself calmed by it as well. The more chanting he did, the more his worry calmed, the more his head and groin felt muzzy and hot. He was convinced the chant was the work of the Thrall, working to calm both of them. Lupin's body gradually stopped the small tremors, and Snape felt all Lupin's limbs start to relax slowly as Snape continued to murmur, his hand still tracing Lupin's back, whilst one held his hip gently.

He gently pushed again and found he slid in until he was fully sheathed and clenched inside Lupin. Lupin let out a long, low moan and Snape breathed in sharply. Lupin was more tight than Snape thought he could bear. He moved his hand down to stroke Lupin's cock back to hardness, carefully and gently, not moving himself; not just yet, still murmuring Remus's name, calming yet inciting both of them.

He felt Lupin relax then he moved his hand back to stroke Snape's thigh encouragingly, "Please Severus, I do want you, please" his voice sounded choked.

As gently as he could, he started to move against Lupin, small shallow movements, echoing those with this hand, still murmuring. Slowly, so very slowly, the clenching around Snape's shaft eased to become pleasurably tight and hot. Snape moved deeper and slightly faster, and deeper still, his murmuring of Remus's name never ceasing. His heart and gut leapt when he heard Lupin's first gasp of pleasure as his prostate was hit for the first time, and a second, and a third, and he then moved back onto Snape to encourage him to give him more. Snape rolled into his thrusts now increasing incrementally as deeply and hard as he could, listening to the gasps and moans of desire that were now tumbling continuously and more urgently from Lupin's mouth, Snape's own satisfaction deepening knowing that he was the first to cause these sensations in Lupin in this way.

Their passion now fully ignited, Snape started to lose his sense of self in the exquisite pleasure he was feeling, that now familiar sensation of his mind unravelling as his breathing became harder, still gasping Remus's name as he scaled the pinnacle of his orgasm.

The orgasm hit, tearing a hoarse cry from his throat simultaneously as he heard Lupin's cry of his name, but it did not subside and he did not fall over its precipice. It felt as if his orgasm and his soul's very essences were being wrenched from his physical core upwards into a violently swirling vortex of ecstasy. He was just peripherally aware that Lupin's cries, like his own, continued as the tempest of orgasm and emotions crashed together in the tumultuous vortex, with those feelings crashing over him relentlessly over and over again, then seeming to renew in furious funnel of intensity as a torrent of other emotions and another's orgasm joined his own in the vortex.

Lupin's! He didn't know how, but he knew he was experiencing this directly with Lupin, the intensity magnified. Somehow, the intense fury of the vortex was a combination of them both. It continued to swirl and agitate furiously as both men continued to cry out from the combined and magnified ecstasy. Then it seemed to stabilise to a steady, powerful pulse in his core and the physical, spiritual and mental ecstasy slowly muted, whilst a column radiating pure, white, hot power and strength gradually replaced it.

Snape understood before he and Lupin passed out on the bed that their magical cores had combined.

He had not understood that the master had subjugated the object.

He had not understood that the Thrall was now perfected.

 


	10. Consequences & Revelations

Snape regained consciousness slowly, gradually becoming aware of his body, his senses and his thoughts.

_Different. He felt wholly different._

His breathing was steady and very deep and slow. His sense of smell, already acute, seemed razor sharp. His skin tingled. He listened to his heart beat – slow and powerful. He felt his strong slow pulse in his midriff, his pulse that seemed to somehow radiate heat with every surge. He heard his blood pumping through his veins, rushing and ringing in his ears, as if he had sat up too quickly, although he still lay as he had awoken.

He slowly opened his eyes. Early morning light came in weakly through the small dungeon window. He looked at the ceiling. His eyesight was sharp. Too sharp. Nauseatingly sharp. The detail on the ceiling made him feel seasick.

His head felt stupidly thick as he tried to focus his mind. It suddenly sharpened to clarity as he remembered last night.

Remus.

He snapped his head to the left. Remus was there, on his side, facing away from him, trapping his arm under his prone body. This was how they had lost consciousness together and fallen.

Snape leant over him, gently calling his name. He touched Lupin's shoulder and he mumbled in his sleep. Snape wondered why he looked so pale when the moon was still waning. Slowly, Lupin came awake, looking confused and taking time to adjust. Snape wondered if Lupin's senses had altered as his had.

"Sev' rus." Lupin was breathless. "What happened to us last night? What _was_ that?" Lupin croaked. "Did the Thrall do that?"

"I think so," Snape said gently. "Tell me how you feel. You don't look well." His eyes and fingers searched Lupin's face. The more Snape looked, the more agitated he became.

"Weak. I feel very weak and my skin feels raw." Lupin's voice was thin and reedy, his eyes were bright and fevered and his body was trembling. Snape Summoned a fever-reducing Potion from his bathroom and gave it to Lupin, but his hands trembled on trying to hold it, so Snape administered it and then gave him a glass of water.

 _Just a fever_ , Snape told himself. His mind running wild trying to recall everything that had happened between them last night and whether it was responsible for Lupin's current condition. They might not be connected, but he doubted that very much. He ran his hand over Lupin's forehead, then snatched his wand from the bedside table and cast some diagnosis spells. These confirmed his fever was high but there was no corresponding infection.

The further spells told him Lupin had become very weak and his magical core was sorely depleted. Snape knew that Lupin was not a run-of-the-mill wizard; he had a strong magical core. It had had to be for him to survive his curse for all these years. Now it was depleted.

A dread crept up on Snape. He cast the diagnostic spell upon himself. His core was augmented and magnified. The vortex that had combined their cores had combined them into Snape. This is why he felt so energised and strong, why his senses were so acute. The vortex had been the most extraordinary feeling in his life. Every feeling he'd ever had had been augmented by Lupin's feelings. He would have happily died in that feeling, he remembered thinking that.

Snape sat back heavily on the bed. Whatever had happened last night could have killed Lupin. _He_ could have killed Lupin. He stared blankly ahead, unable to fathom what had taken place over the last twelve hours. How could he transfer Lupin's magic back to him? It was magic beyond his knowledge.

His mind starting to spin trying to take in all the information he was trying to process quickly. Is that why he had wanted to take Lupin so desperately? Was this why the Thrall had been off from the start: because he hadn't been the dominant sexual partner? Had he been, would this have happened on that first night two months ago?

At some subliminal level, he realised he had known something bad would happen – he remembered that sensation of wrongness because of Lupin's strong physical and magical resistance. He had thought it was the wolf. He had not considered that Lupin's magic was defending its very existence.

Snape moved back so that Lupin was resting against him. Snape felt for his pulse: so much weaker than his own. It would take some minutes for the Potion to work so Snape enfolded Lupin in his arms and gently stroked his arms with his hands.

"Does that feel all right?" Snape asked, remembering what Lupin said about his skin and how oddly it was the opposite to the feeling of his own skin, which was alive and receptive. Lupin nodded and pressed his head to Snape's chest, seemingly to listen to his heart.

What Snape did next, he did not think through, but acted on some newly-acquired instinct. He placed his hands over Lupin's heart and concentrated on his own strong heart beat and on Lupin's light, thready one and began to murmur Lupin's name as he had before in Lupin's ear. Within a couple of minutes, the skin under Snape's hands became hot and Lupin's heartbeat began to mirror Snape's own in beat and strength, his trembling had ceased and his fever broke. They remained like this for some time, both assessing within their own minds what this would mean for each of them and yet finding themselves at a loss to speak of it to the other.

Eventually, Snape cast another diagnostic spell on Lupin. It confirmed that Lupin's magic core had been restored through him. He pondered the enormity of this.

Snape knew he'd have to break the ice, so he said, "I have never felt anything such as what happened to us last night. I wonder if I felt the same as you felt last night, as today you clearly feel very differently to me."

"In what way, Severus?" Lupin asked.

"This morning, I awoke with such a feeling of strength, well-being and focus that I have never before felt, and yet you were fevered, weakened and unwell. We would be foolish to think it is unconnected. What did you feel last night?" He still had not released Lupin from his embrace and indeed found himself very reluctant to even loosen it. Not only did he think this was the Thrall bond at work, but he realised that what he would have to confess to Lupin would be unpalatable for Lupin to hear and he feared his reaction.

"I have never felt anything like that before either," Lupin said simply. "It transcended any pleasure I have known, if a word such as pleasure even comes near to describing what I felt. I know I thought my whole being would unravel and then I remember no more until you woke this morning."

"Transcended ... yes..." Snape mused. "I believe that was part of the Thrall, perhaps even the Thrall itself, but we know so very little about it or what we have now set in motion."

Lupin smiled his small smile at Snape, and said, "I believe you are probably now rather more in control of me than you were before. Perhaps last night you became master of the Thrall by taking me." He looked at Snape frankly, who was at a loss how to respond.

"Until now, I think we had become rather blasé about this enchantment," Lupin continued. "What did we have to lose if we both were enjoying our time together? We rather took our eyes off the ball. And now, I suspect my state of wellbeing is in your hands. We read this but I did not think it would be so literal and pronounced, as it was different before. Previously, if I didn't come to you, I would suffer sleepless nights, or pain at transformation, but if I did come to you, I would not. What hardship was there to me to sleep in your bed every night and make love to you?" he slid his hands admiringly over Snape's body. "I could never consider that anything other than a pleasure." Snape's stomach clenched when Lupin removed his hands. _Made love to me?_

"But now, something had changed fundamentally. I can feel it." Lupin said and swallowed hard. "When you just comforted me then, and chanted to me, I could feel my magical strength coming back to me through you. If it came back to me through you, did I lose it to you? Or through you?" His tone was not accusatory, but Snape's heart sank.

"I suppose that's exactly what the Thrall intended. I realise now this is the bond enchantment as it was intended to work. My life is now in your hands. How can I be comfortable with that?" Lupin looked away to the middle distance, clearly struggling to think this through.

To try to deny it or to gloss over it, Snape knew would be foolish. Whatever had happened yesterday had felt magnificent, but Snape knew that ultimately it was Dark magic and he, of all people, knew that, no matter how carefully one tried to control it, ultimately it would be destructive.

He faced Lupin, and held both his hands and told him honestly of his overwhelming desire to take him and how he had even wrestled with himself against doing so and of the feeling of wrongness; of Lupin's magical resistance which he had thought was the wolf, but which he now thought was Lupin's own defensive magic. He steeled himself and told Lupin of their magical cores this morning and how Snape had restored them. This final revelation of how close Lupin had come to magical annihilation saw Lupin's face drain. His mouth opened and closed as if unable to form the words he needed. He leapt out of the bed and strode to the bathroom. Snape did not follow but sat in the bed, with his head in his hands as he heard the shower turn on.

Eventually, he threw a shirt and trousers on, went to the drawing room and called for breakfast from the house elves and set out their reading once more as it was Saturday. Snape reviewed their work whilst waiting for Lupin. Their own research was still concentrating on perfecting the counter-curse and ritual, which was complex work. Neither had had any idea that this could happen. It wasn't mentioned in their reading. Would they need to make changes now the Thrall appeared to be perfected?

Breakfast arrived and with it the post. He had a letter from Borgin with an enchanted list of books that might interest him for human and non-human bond enslavements and the prices. He would make a trip this afternoon and collect these. Hopefully, there would be information to help them.

The atmosphere in his quarters had become very oppressive. There was still no sign of Lupin so Snape eventually went to the bathroom. Lupin was still standing under the shower, his arms in front of himself bracing himself against the wall, whilst the water coursed over him. Snape went to him, not heeding that he was still dressed, and gently placed his hands on his shoulders, as Lupin had done to him before and rested his head against Lupin's.

"I'm sorry, Remus. We will find a way to break it, I promise," he said quietly.

Lupin's eyes were shut tightly. He nodded tersely. "I trust you, Severus, but I'm not sure I trust us," he muttered, echoing Snape's words from earlier that week.

oooOOOooo

Snape arrived in Knockturn Alley at lunchtime. He had managed to calm Lupin enough for him to agree to put in an appearance at lunch in the Great Hall. However, Snape found he was anxious to avoid Dumbledore as he was certain the Headmaster would identify any Dark magic that might now be emanating from Snape, especially if his magical core had in any way altered. Dumbledore was very sensitive to Dark magic, as Snape had discovered himself so many years ago. They would not be able to hide this from Dumbledore if he turned his considerable attention to them.

He entered Borgin & Burkes to be met by Borgin at his usual oily and falsely humble best.

"Professor Snape, sir," Borgin bowed obsequiously. "Come through, come through. I have managed to acquire a number of tomes that may be of interest to this particular ... er ... _rarefied_ area of research." He bowed again as he led Snape through to the back room, housing many books and other Dark artefacts and took himself behind the counter.

Borgin brought out a wooden chest containing five books, each of which looked of considerable age, and each of each was bound in a different type of animal skin. Snape was already holding his wand. Any one of the artefacts in this shop could carry the most brutal of curses and it never did to let down one's guard. Snape levitated each book separately and casting the revealing spells for Dark curses. Borgin knew better than to interrupt and watched until Snape had satisfied himself the books were safe to even touch.

Snape then donned a pair of soft dragonhide gloves against any cursed irritants that may have been placed in the books. "Always best to be safe, Professor Snape, sir," Borgin bowed and rubbed his hands, nodding. Snape ignored him, placing each book one after the other on the counter, murmuring counter-curses as he inspected each book in turn. He returned three to the wooden chest and put aside two.

"I'll take these three," Snape said curtly.

"I had thought it would be you that would be enquiring of our services for this particular endeavour up at the school," Borgin smiled unpleasantly.

"Meaning?" Snape clipped out, his head tilting sharply to Borgin, his gaze unwavering.

Borgin tapped a dirty finger to his nose, and chuckled wheezily. "Pay me no never mind, Professor Snape, sir. I shouldn't have mentioned it, I know. Must be causing all sorts of consternation for the Headmaster," he laughed wheezily again as he started to put away the two discarded volumes, not looking at the stone-faced man before him. "Always let it be said, we keep our customers' business confidential at Borgin & Burkes, but he would have to send _you_ to solve it and no mistake." The foul old man carried on wheezing chestily as he Snape counted out the galleons agreed, never taking his glittering eyes from Borgin.

Snape felt his rage bubbling. _What the hell was this? Consternation for the Headmaster? Solve it? What could he mean? What could Borgin know?_

Finally, as Borgin passed forward the wooden chest to Snape, he locked eyes with Snape and found himself looking at the tip of Snape's wand.

"Legilimens!" Snape hissed.

oooOOOooo

Snape returned to his quarters, enlarged his shrunken parcels, including the books and sat down to take stock of what he had learned from Borgin.

Malfoy.

Not content with being responsible for opening the Chamber of Secrets last year with an artefact left with him by the Dark Lord for safe-keeping, now according to Borgin, he had sought to pass on these books because an ancient malignant curse had been wrought from their pages. One of the books in particular had contained the little known variation to allow for a third person to cast the enchantment over master and object, but it was believed to be untraceable.

As far as Borgin had ascertained from an overheard conversation between Malfoy and Walden MacNair in his shop, the curse had been wrought against a half-breed teacher at the school. He had not ascertained who the master of the curse would be, but Malfoy had been insistent that the outcry and embarrassment such a cursed union would cause would be the ruination of the Headmaster's reputation. Borgin had guessed that it was intended that the Headmaster himself be the master, and therefore damn him as a practitioner of Dark enslavement magic and sow the seed of doubt that the man was a sexual deviant.

Once Snape was sure Borgin had heard nothing further, Snape had modified his memory and left this shop. He wondered idly just how many times Borgin's memory had been obliviated by his clientele.

He was startled that they knew about Lupin at all and had not just exposed him in _The Daily Prophet_. He then felt enraged they had intended to make Lupin the object of the Thrall from the outset (unless they had meant Hagrid, and he frankly suspected not), possibly to Dumbledore as his master. He supposed there was more mileage to be made from a Dark magic scandal involving the Headmaster but he felt quite sick at that thought, and absurdly jealous. Absurd because Dumbledore was 114, for Merlin's sake. However, Snape had always been a very jealous man and knew himself to be irrational in his jealousy. Now Lupin was in his Thrall, he had to be careful of his emotions. He now had the capacity to harm Lupin quite seriously, even with his emotions.

Was Malfoy or MacNair capable of such casting? Now that was something that Snape seriously doubted. Both were Dark wizards, but neither was powerful for this type of casting. Was Dumbledore the target? Or was he? He wouldn't put it past Malfoy. It wasn't as if Malfoy had never sought to humiliate him before. He would need to investigate further.

He retrieved the oldest book that contained the third person casting and began to study it. It was a foul and wretched book. So much worse than the other. Whilst he and Lupin may have been the subjects of this enchantment, he did not think of Lupin this way.

He hoped very much the Lupin would visit him. He wanted to tell him all this. He wanted to show him he was making progress. He just wanted him.

oooOOOooo

Still keen to avoid Dumbledore, although now at least he felt he could be able to defend himself (at least partially) if Dumbledore discovered the Thrall, he dined alone in his quarters. He was working methodically through the first book. The third person casting had differed in many critical aspects from the curse they'd found in the original book. It was well he had found it because their counter-curse would not have worked and indeed the ritual was completely different. He was currently delineating the differences and wanted to go through these with Lupin, as he had done with their previous workings.

He still had not heard from him. He suspected that Lupin was still distressed to find himself as good as a bond slave to him, although Snape hoped Lupin understood he would not purposely abuse the magical link. He didn't know how to reassure him, especially since they had done nothing but give in to the Thrall for the last month. He had proved himself appalling at keeping his desires under control. He could make an educated guess that the Call would be stronger since last night.

Snape resolved that he had to try whilst the moon was waning to give Lupin some respite. He Occluded his mind and meditated until he was ready to sleep.

oooOOOooo

When he woke, he was surprised to find himself in Lupin's arms. His chest and stomach clenched with pleasure to find himself there and he nestled back into place. He didn't know what time Lupin had come to his bedroom but it demonstrated that his wards had once again accommodated the Thrall. He held the sleeping arms holding him and found he was able to sleep again for another hour.

He was woken by Lupin who was behind him, stroking one languid hand down Snape's side and kissing his neck.

"Remus," Snape murmured. "I'm so pleased you're here. I tried not to Call..."

"I know," Lupin whispered into Snape's neck. "I even felt you meditating. I was quite relaxed myself when you finished." Snape felt Lupin's smile against his skin.

Snape coloured. He had no idea that the perfected Thrall would be so intrusive for either of them.

"I need you, Severus" Lupin breathed. "I slept, but as soon as I woke, I needed to come to you."

Snape needed no encouragement, and his excitement ignited immediately, but he tried to restrain himself. "Should we? I might hurt you," he said earnestly.

Lupin moved himself so that he was facing Snape and pulled him into a deep searching kiss, his hands stroking Snape's already hard cock, taking his breath away. "I need you to take me again," he murmured.

Snape was startled. "I could hurt you..." he blurted out.

Lupin shook his head. "We know now what to expect and what you need to do to equalise us. But I know that I need it, Severus. As the hours go on I'm becoming weaker without it. I think it's the way the Thrall functions."

Snape had wanted Lupin to yearn for him. _Be careful what you wish for Severus,_ he thought bitterly to himself as he felt tears prick behind his eyes that it was for necessity and not longing that Lupin needed him.

"Do you want me at all, Remus?" he found himself saying.

"You know I do. I want you and I need you," Lupin sighed still kissing him.

Snape returned this kiss and let himself sink into the desire that he'd been struggling to keep at bay. He turned Lupin around and brought him into his chest tenderly, kissing his neck, back and shoulder. He moved Lupin's top leg forward gently and gently stroked his back, down between his buttocks and prepared him with his fingers. This morning, there was no resistance. Lupin was already slick and warm. Snape pushed himself in slowly, inch by inch listening to Lupin's soft moans as he did so. He was beautifully tight this time. It was perfect. He stroked Lupin's erection and found himself chanting Remus's name again until they were both entranced. He pushed in as deep as he was able. Lupin pushed back on Snape to ask for more and Snape began to push in deeply and oh so slowly.

This time, their coupling was slow, sure and exquisite. As soon as their orgasm began to build, Snape held Lupin close with one hand over his heart. They felt the vortex commence, but it was controlled and less violent. It still tore from their bodies as they orgasmed but this time merged and mingled their ecstasy and looped around the two of them, energising and enervating them both, reiterating and re-imprinting the Thrall on the men. Eventually it subsided leaving them basking in each other's euphoria, until that too ebbed away.

oooOOOooo

After breakfast, Snape filled Lupin in on what he had found out from Borgin. Lupin's reactions veered from shock (that his condition was known) to horror (that the master of the Thrall might have been meant to be Dumbledore) to complete confusion that the master seemed to be so imprecise and that the caster was not known.

"So I am the object of a plot to make the Headmaster seem like a sexual deviant." Lupin's mouth pulled into a straight line. "I think I can say I'm insulted in every way imaginable."

"And you'd have every right to be," Snape smirked. "I personally always thought Albus was celibate."

"Please don't Severus. It's appalling. Never speak of it again." Lupin's eyes closed with a grim expression. "Never," he said emphatically. Snape smiled. He'd be happy now he knew Lupin despised the very thought. Yes, his jealousy really was irrational.

They set to work on the new material Snape had obtained yesterday, knowing that they were having to reconstruct their counter-courses and rituals. It would not be done quickly. Snape had hoped to work on that part of the enchantment that dealt with pain control and blood lust control of the werewolf, but that would also have to be aside for now. That was a shame as the moon would be full in sixteen days. He had set about brewing Lupin's Potion as usual.

If Lupin was right about his needing to refresh the Thrall link regularly, Snape suspected he would need to deal with a very angry werewolf before the full moon. He would need to plan.

 


	11. Instincts of the Werewolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some sexual and physical violence and restraint.

Lupin once again took to sleeping in Snape's quarters at night, always arriving sometime after dinner. Each morning, Snape would renew the Thrall with Lupin. It was always slow and exquisite, and, whilst the moon waned, it was more than sufficient to satisfy both men.

But neither was surprised when the moon started to wax that their more physically expressive passions became inflamed again, as they had before. The early mornings belonged to Snape, but the nights belonged to Lupin, whose physical passion seemed to increase in intensity with each passing night. As the moon became fuller, Lupin became more insistent and demanding in his love-making. Snape found it more exciting each time that Lupin would push them both further so ultimately their release when it came would always be fierce and triumphant. Snape had never slept so easily as he did during this time – physically exhausted, sore, but sated and calm. He had never felt better in his mind nor stronger in his body.

When their evenings were free (they had finished their marking and there were no Anti-Dementor lessons or, more often than not, in Snape's case, detentions), they continued their ongoing private research. The newly-acquired books made for grim reading, layering complexities on the enchantment due to the caster being unknown.

It gave neither of them pleasure to discover that a third wizard or witch would be required to unravel the Thrall as a third had woven it. There was no question that they knew wizards and witches powerful enough, but to have them know of this or ask them to participate in such Dark magic was unthinkable. For the time being, at least. They still had much work to do drawing up the counter-casting and ritual.

They each took turns to read the rather fulsome chapter on punishments under the Thrall. Snape thought they had known the worst of it from the other book: that Lupin would be unwell and sleepless if he ignored Snape's call, and that his transformations could be made more painful (and conversely less painful if the Thrall were fulfilled). He was horrified to read that many casters built in pain boundaries to their Thralls so that the object would suffer pain in direct parallel with their master's pain (or pleasure, if that was so cast), anger, disappointment or any agitated state or just his whim. The pain would take any form the caster chose, magical, physical or mental.

They could not know of the extent of the Thrall's punishment boundaries because the caster's intent was not known. The only way they would find out what the boundaries were would be if they pushed at them. This enchantment really was the work of a malevolent mind.

"How are we going to deal with that temper of yours, Severus?" Lupin asked lightly, but Snape saw his face was drawn and knew how vulnerable he must feel having his personal safety in every respect in Snape's control. Snape found he was rather stuck for words. He had done his best since discovering he had drained Lupin's magic to demonstrate to Lupin that he would not abuse the Thrall.

But he was temperamental; he knew it. He only kept that temper bottled in when he Occluded his mind. Perhaps he should do that more often, or at least make himself do it when he could feel himself agitated. It seemed so remote at the moment anyway – as far as Lupin's part in his life was concerned, he had never been more relaxed or fulfilled. Snape's only discontent was the threat the Thrall posed to them, although it was with sadness that he acknowledged its existence had enabled them to be together.

oooOOOooo

It was the day before the full moon, they had agreed Snape would ward Lupin's quarters tonight after Lupin retired to bed keeping Lupin inside as a safety measure. Neither Snape nor Lupin had any doubt the wolf would be furious and therefore dangerous. Tonight, Snape went to Lupin's chambers after dinner and, rather than study the books this night, they played chess instead. Lupin hadn't eaten much at dinner, Snape noticed, and he looked pale, although better than last month.

Towards the end of the night, they sat together on the floor in front of the sofa, kissing, but Snape did not take Lupin to bed, although he very much wanted to. They kissed searchingly and passionately, their hands wandering under each other's shirts gently. Then unexpectedly, Lupin bit Snape's bottom lip hard. Snape's eyes sprang open and he saw a shift from orange to blue. Both he and Lupin sprang away from each other. Snape's whisked out his wand, but Lupin did not. He just looked stunned, holding his own hand to his mouth as if he had been bitten. At Lupin's insistence, Snape left, taking Lupin's wand, and warded Lupin inside and walked to his own quarters for the night.

The werewolf had made himself known even earlier than before. Snape would have to deal with the wolf now.

The next morning, the day of the full moon, Snape strode to Lupin's quarters. He wore no outer robe over his trousers and shirt, nor a cravat and his hair was tied back. If it came to duelling the werewolf, he must be free to move. His chances against the werewolf were good. Lupin had surrendered his wand to him last night, although Snape knew Lupin's wandless magic was strong. Unfortunately, he suspected Lupin's safety would be more his concern than the werewolf's so, in this, the werewolf had the advantage of him.

He let himself in, then sealed Lupin's chambers with a complex casting to ensure only he could leave the room this day. He placed the sealed flask of Wolfsbane Potion by the fireplace.

Snape then placed a chair face to Lupin's bedroom, sat upright in it, his wand held loosely and confidently, and waited for the werewolf to wake and appear.

He saw the werewolf's shadow appear at the bedroom door, the man followed. The wolfman relaxed against the door frame in his trousers only, insolently regarding Snape. Not eight hours had passed since Snape had seen Lupin and yet the change to his appearance was startling. As before, the face had become mean and spiteful, the eyes were orange and slitted, the mouth was cruel. Snape noted the swollen lip that matched his own from the bite.

The wolfman smiled broadly. It was an ugly, malicious smile. Snape noted slightly longer than normal incisors. And didn't his front teeth look somewhat sharper? A small shudder took him remembering how those teeth had torn his neck and back.

"Well, well, Severus. You're here very early. Is this so I can play for longer today?" his rough voice taunted. "Did you like the way I screwed you Severus? Does it make you wish your playmate was more like his wolf? Or are you here so I can fuck your scrawny arse harder still?" he growled, and laughed raggedly, as he moved into the small sitting room, not more than a couple of strides away from where Snape was sitting.

Snape remained still, eyes narrowed and glittering, watching him like a hawk, poised himself to strike. The werewolf's foul-mouthed taunts didn't worry him. He'd heard worse when he was younger, but he didn't like it hearing it from Lupin's mouth. Lupin was passionate, but he was not coarse. But Snape knew he mustn't lose control and he mustn't misjudge anything he did now. He could hurt Lupin and be hurt himself if he allowed it to get out of control. He needed to get the werewolf under control.

"No, I don't think so," Snape said, so quietly that the werewolf had to strain to hear. "I won't let you touch me again."

"Every time he touches you, I touch you, you imbecile!" the werewolf roared. "Do you think I ever truly leave his mind?"

"I've shared Remus's mind," Snape purred, knowing this would incense the werewolf. "You _never_ share it. This is all you for this short time."

The harsh smile left the werewolf's face suddenly. "I should have ripped out your throat whilst you slept, rather than playing with you, you filthy queer," he snarled. "Now you've fucked him, I can't kill you because it'll kill him, but it won't stop me beating you to a pulp."

The werewolf launched himself at Snape, just managing to punch him hard in the jaw with an outstretched fist, as Snape cried, "PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!"

The werewolf's limbs snapped together and he fell sideways but Snape caught him, keeping himself well away from the werewolf's jaws, and levitated him to the sofa. Heavy rope sprang from his wand and he bound the werewolf where he had laid him. Just as he finished the hefty bindings, the body bind failed and the werewolf tried to thrash against the physical bindings, but they did not break.

"I knew I would not be able to hold you in a body bind," Snape said as he checked the knots once more. "You are werewolf today and as a magical creature have some imperviousness to certain charms. But not all. Do not think I will not defend myself, wolf," he hissed into the werewolf's ear.

Snape sat in the chair again, his heart racing and his adrenaline pumping and his blood coursing through his veins. He watched the werewolf strain at his bindings.

"Why will it kill Remus if you kill me?" Snape demanded curtly.

"Your perverted spell. You've joined his magical core to yours. You've enslaved him. If I'd killed you before you fucked him, we would have been free." He spat on the floor in disgust. "If he hadn't been unnatural in the first place, he would not have been subjugated by you."

"It's a bit rich to call us unnatural given how you reamed me out, wolf," Snape snarled, baring his teeth, as he leant forward and pressed his wand menacingly against the werewolf's throat.

"All sex is dominance and it is power to me. You're both dirty perverts, but until this, at least he respected the wolf's dominance, if nothing else. If he is suffering now, it is his own filthy fault. I underestimated you. I failed to break you and you perfected the Dark curse and now he is bound to you."

"How do you know it is a Dark curse?" Snape spat out.

"Ha!" the werewolf barked. "Why would I not recognise a Dark curse? I am a Dark curse! I am an Accursed thing," the werewolf shouted. "I should have killed you as you slept. No-one would have suspected him. He is so weak," he muttered almost to himself.

The werewolf shuffled around to look at Snape straight on. "How long do you think it will take for you to kill him? How long will you be able to stop yourself draining his core to feed your own?"

Snape's mouth was thin. "It's only happened once. We didn't know. We won't let it happen again."

"There's no "we" in this! You've drained him more than once already!" the werewolf yelled at him. Snape's mind was in turmoil. _That couldn't be!_ "Your body will take from him any time it wants and it's been helping itself rather freely!" the werewolf snarled. "Every time you drain his magical core, he'll become weaker. Eventually, you will drain him dry. He'll be no better than a Squib or a Muggle," he ground out. "He won't survive his first few transformations with no magical core to help him heal. You fucked your playmate and sentenced him to death, _Severus_ ," the werewolf hissed, and emphasised his name with as much malice as he could muster.

"You lie," Snape spat and pushed the wand further into his neck, the wand sparking and burning the skin. The werewolf snorted with laughter.

 _Remus, it will be Remus you hurt!_ Snape's mind shouted to him. Snape pulled his wand away, blowing out air from his lungs viciously, and stood to cast his diagnosing spell over the werewolf's body and then over his own. His own core was augmented and Lupin's was depleted. Not massively, but noticeably. His eyes widened in shock. He had no idea how or when that had happened.

The werewolf chuckled from his prone position. "You don't even know you're killing him, you incompetent bastard!"

Snape stood stock still, glaring at the werewolf for some time calculating what he could do with that information, then he allowed a supercilious sneer to settle onto his features and he leant forward, one hand on one knee, wand still at the ready in the other. "Do you know how we equalise our cores, wolf? What I _do_ to Remus to restore his core to him?" he purred slowly into the werewolf's ear. "I fuck him slowly until we come together and he cries out my name, wolf. My name!" he whispered hoarsely.

The werewolf jerked away, his eyes wild. "You will not touch me! You will not! I will kill you!" he roared with fury.

"And kill _yourself_?" Snape said silkily and raised an eyebrow, his head tilted, enjoying the wolf's palpable horror.

"How will you explain that to your queer boyfriend then, Severus, that you took him by force! Do you think he will ever forgive you?" the werewolf spluttered, panicking now.

"But I won't be forcing Remus. He wants me to do it." He moved to the head of the werewolf now, checking his bindings, tensing himself for the escape attempt that must soon follow but finding himself feeling strong, aggressive and ready for the fight. "He enjoys it. He asks me for it every morning. That is why you need it now, wolf. I haven't had you this morning." He leant over the werewolf's face and looked into its orange eyes, his own mask of cruelty set in place. "You need to take it like a man!" he breathed into the werewolf's mouth, smiling a tight smile that didn't touch his eyes. "Unless, of course, you want to crawl away until moonrise and let Remus go. You shouldn't be here today. It's not your time," Snape scowled.

"I'm here to try to preserve him. It's self-preservation," The werewolf was panting with panic and struggling violently. "Do not do this."

Severus stood suddenly, feeling a rise in magic emanating from the werewolf. He steadied his stance, and cast a shield charm in the same instant that a huge pulse of magic punched out from the werewolf's core to try to overpower him. Snape did not fall, but cried, "STUPEFY!" and the werewolf fell prone once more.

Snape knew it would not last, and quickly levitated the werewolf to a kneeling position, bent forwards over the sofa, removed his trousers and re-bound him securely as well as securing the bonds to the sofa so the werewolf's movement would be limited, but ensuring no ropes obscured Lupin's chest. He quickly cast the diagnosis charm and saw the Lupin's core was now severely depleted following that outburst of wandless magic. He would have to take him soon.

He leant over the werewolf's shoulder and whispered, "I'm sorry, Remus. Please forgive me." He hoped the threat of intercourse would be enough to drive the werewolf back. He hoped so, because he intended to take Lupin, no matter what, because Lupin needed his magical core for the transformation.

"Rennervate," he cast to the werewolf.

The orange eyes opened, and looked around wildly, seeing the position in which he had been placed and was under no illusion what Snape meant to do.

The werewolf started to yell, "Oh you foul, fucking pansy-arsed ..."

"Langlock," Snape cast dismissively as he removed his clothes and then moved onto his knees behind the werewolf. The werewolf tried in vain to struggle against the binding, making guttural noises.

 _Remus will know I need to do this... he'll know. Merlin forgive me. He'll know I have to,_ Snape kept telling himself. He ran his hand across Lupin's backside, and the werewolf flinched away as far as he was able. Snape would have to be more robust. He cast a lubrication spell, and the werewolf flinched again and started to struggle as violently as he could. Snape worked his fingers against Lupin's opening to try to stretch him. He didn't want to hurt him if he didn't have to, although the violent struggles of the werewolf didn't help this. Snape wanted to immobilise the werewolf, but he had to calculate the time for this, because the charm would not last long before the werewolf would shake it off.

Snape knew that there was a dark part of him that was utterly turned on by the thought of screwing the bound wolf that had brutalised him, that wanted to let his anger and vengeance overwhelm him and then take the wolf as violently as the wolf had taken him, but he kept reminding himself it was Lupin's body and Lupin who would feel the pain of any damage done as well as damage that might be inflicted by Snape's anger under the Thrall. He had to tread a fine line to pull this off. He could not let his own temper get the better of them both.

He grasped Lupin's hips hard and lined up his cock to Lupin's opening and started to push in, not too hard, but firmly so the werewolf's struggles would not push him out. The werewolf struggled as hard as it could, still uttering its tongue-tied outrage, but Snape pushed all the way in and then stopped to catch his own breath. He thrust in Lupin roughly several times, then felt the werewolf shudder violently and then relax totally.

Snape stopped and leant forward, hoping he had not miscalculated. Lupin turned his head to look at Snape. His eyes were blue. "Remus!" Snape whispered and kissed the side of his face. Snape muttered the counter-charm so Lupin could speak and was about to undo the bindings when Lupin said breathlessly, "Leave them. He could return at any time if he thinks you're unprotected. Please finish Severus, please. I need you to."

Snape kissed Lupin's face once more, and then he pressed his chest to Lupin's back, and moved his left hand to Lupin's heart as he started to chant Remus's name and gently this time thrust deeply into Lupin who pushed back to receive him as well as he could, being bound. Snape managed to free Lupin's own erection so he could stroke this with his other hand. Without the wolf, it became its usual slow and exquisite dance of controlled passion, bringing them both on until they cried out and culminating in its vortex of ecstasy. As it ebbed, Snape wished that Lupin was not bound so that they could enjoy its afterglow together.

He brushed aside Lupin's hair to kiss him and then apologised and Stunned him once more. Once Stunned, Snape unbound him, re-clothed and cleansed them both and sat Lupin back on the sofa and then re-bound his hands and arms.

Snape sat back in the chair he occupied previously, drew a hand over his face and then Summoned a pitcher of water and two glasses and then brought Lupin round again.

It was still Lupin. Snape smiled apologetically brought him over a glass of water, and Lupin drank greedily when Snape brought it to his lips.

"Do you think he'll be back before moonrise?" Snape asked quietly, unhappy to have Lupin bound so uncomfortably by him.

"I think," Lupin chuckled, with a wan smile playing over his lips "if you keep threatening to shag his dominant backside every time he moves, he may well stay away."

Snape smirked and gave a short laugh.

"How did you know that would work?" Lupin asked.

"I didn't even think of it until he said I was draining you. I was going to try some mind binding through legilimency. As soon as he said that though, it made sense, especially as your wolf appears to be highly disturbed by your lifestyle choices," Snape smiled his tight smile and Lupin laughed. "I'm sorry I did it like that, Remus," he said, indicating the ropes.

"I don't think it could be helped. I didn't realise that my core was draining so often. But I suppose the wolf did. He said it was self-preservation, didn't he? Perhaps that's why he's been so strong these past months. He's trying to preserve the vessel that gives him existence. If we take better care, perhaps we can bind him back to the moon." Snape nodded and gave him more water.

"I need to check on your core more regularly, see when and why I tap into it. I wasn't aware that I had. We'll need to check that in the books as well." Snape shook his head as they seemed to know so little. "Do you want anything to eat?" Snape asked.

Lupin shook his head. "The water's enough for now. You need to go soon and have something to eat yourself. You don't need to stay until moonrise."

"I'll stay with you for a while yet," Snape said and then got up and brought over the Wolfsbane Potion. Lupin muttered under his breath about the foulness of it, and drank it down, grimacing slightly and asked for more water.

Snape settled himself next to Lupin on the sofa and moved Lupin over to lie on his chest and held his hand to his heart and chanted to fortify him further. After, Lupin raised his chin up so he could kiss Snape and they kissed deeply and vigorously, even in this awkward position.

An hour before moonrise, Snape released Lupin's fetters and checked he had not hurt him with them, whilst keeping Lupin under wandpoint at Lupin's insistence. There were small burns to Lupin's neck which Snape healed and a few bruises on his hips. With the exception of the swelling bruise to his jaw, Snape was unscathed. He'd treat that later.

"I'll come by tomorrow," he said as he gave Lupin a small smile as he left and re-set the wards.

As he strode back to his own quarters, he considered the mind bindings to try to bind the wolf back to the moon and he smirked with satisfaction that he didn't think the werewolf would be so keen to seek out his company any more.

 


	12. Misgivings & Fulfilment

Snape had done his best to Occlude his mind overnight. Even though he was confident he had dealt with the werewolf conclusively until he had time to work on some mind bindings, the opposite face of that coin was that he had trussed up Lupin and taken him like a whore. Lupin may have said he understood the circumstances, but Snape was convinced that Lupin must resent it, given how vulnerable he was feeling. Snape's conviction was gnawing at his gut. It had taken him a long time to meditate to calm himself and he did that because he was concerned even his worry could cause Lupin distress.

This turmoil of distress and worry seemed to Snape to be the price he had to pay for the ecstasy he found in Lupin as he veered between the haven that Lupin had fast become to him, and the realisation that he could be the making of Lupin's hell. He could not allow himself time to wallow. To keep Lupin healthy (even if selfishly to continue to enjoy him), he had to Occlude his mind. He managed eventually.

However, as early as the moon wards would allow the next morning, Snape let himself back into Lupin's quarters to check on him, thinking he should have at least an hour before Poppy came to call.

Lupin was curled up asleep on the floor next to his own bed. This must have been how he had slept during the night as the wolf. He didn't look in any way uncomfortable, only very pale, and Snape quickly skimmed over his body and could see no wounds. He sat next to him on the floor and stroked his hair gently, casting his diagnosis charm over him. Lupin's core was not as strong as Snape had left it, but that was to be expected after the transformation. He quickly scanned his own but was disappointed that his seemed to be greater than normal. What the wolf had told him had made him feel like a cannibal or a vampire and he was determined to keep an eye on this, but he didn't understand yet how it was happening.

He moved Lupin into his arms so he could hold Lupin to his chest again to try to fortify his core with the chant. He did this for over a quarter of an hour, before Lupin started to wake, although still very groggy.

"Come, Remus," Snape said gently. "Let's get you to bed." Snape helped him to his feet and to the bed and then laid Lupin's wand on the bedside table.

Lupin managed a groggy smile. "Sev'rus," he whispered, his throat parched. "Come to bed," he said weakly. Snape helped Lupin with a glass of water.

"Nothing I'd like better, Remus, but I'd rather not give Poppy the fright of her life," he smirked, handing Lupin a pair of pyjama bottoms.

"Unfortunately, Severus, I grew up with Poppy Pomfrey dressing me after my transformations, not to mention the last two months. Modesty is not a luxury I have enjoyed with her." Lupin laughed softly as Snape assisted him into the cotton trousers.

"Nevertheless," Snape said, with one eyebrow raised, "it will spare my blushes at least." Snape scanned the both of them again and Lupin's core was improved, but not normal yet.

He heard a split second before he saw the fire blaze green and he quickly disillusioned himself and moved out into the sitting room. He listened to the one-sided conversation coming from the bedroom.

"Remus, good morning. Good, I'm pleased you got yourself into bed this time. I was worried about you after last month. Oh, but you look much better. How was everything?"

He could just hear Lupin. "Much better, Poppy." Long pause and a rustling of bed clothes. "I don't think I've injured myself at all."

"I'll be the judge of that, young man." Then all he heard was rustling, until, "I wonder how you got that bruise to your jaw. Do you remember?"

Snape's hand shot up to his jaw: he'd forgotten the wolf's punch. He'd put bruise balm on himself last night and a dab of dittany to his lip – there was nothing to show for the wolf's two marks, except on Lupin himself, carrying the injuries he'd inflicted on Snape. There was an ample illustration of the punishment thresholds. Well, he supposed that made sense to stop an "object" hurting its supposed master.

"Not really, Poppy," he heard Lupin say quietly.

"Oh and a little cut to your lip. Easily sorted." More rustling and a clink of phials. Snape moved to stand in the open door so he could watch as well as listen.

"Well, you're more exhausted than I'd like but it does seem a real improvement on last month. What do you think?" Poppy was still casting her diagnosis spells.

"Very much Poppy," Lupin was smiling his small smile at the witch bustling around him.

"Are you ready for breakfast yet?" Poppy said brightly.

"Um ... Severus said he'd join me for breakfast so he could do his notes for the Wolfsbane Potion. I think I'll wait for him," Lupin said, taking a further sip of water that the witch proffered, although Snape was positive he saw the twitch of a suppressed smile behind the glass, and Snape raised an eyebrow in surpise at his lover's easy lie, but was pleased Lupin was making it known to Snape he wanted him to stay and wondered again whether Poppy was taken in.

"Very well then." Snape watched her closely but could discern nothing. "I'll report to the Headmaster that this month is an improvement. He's been very concerned. He may drop by later." Popply started to put her phials away in her cloak.

"Thank you Poppy," Lupin said meekly. "If the Headmaster does want to visit, could he leave it until this afternoon? I'm really very tired." Snape grinned. _Deftly done, Remus._

"Of course, dear," Poppy smiled indulgently and patted his hand. "I'll tell him. I'll pop by before dinner." And with that, Poppy Floo'd back to the infirmary wing.

Snape removed the Disillusionment charm and smiled at Lupin from the doorway.

"Will you come to bed now, Severus?" Lupin asked.

"I thought I should get you some breakfast first." He called for an early breakfast from the house-elves, which arrived shortly after. Snape dished up a portion of porridge for Lupin and poured him tea and then helped him to sit up in bed, before helping himself to the same and sitting in the bedside chair.

As they ate, Lupin regarded Snape shrewdly. "Severus, you are troubled. Talk to me."

Snape stopped eating and thought carefully. "I am," he said. "I am troubled about what I did to you yesterday. About what I'm doing to you every day." He put his bowl aside, his appetite extinguished and looked at Lupin frankly. "I do not want you to hate me." His eyes flicked quickly down to his hands. He realised he suddenly felt very vulnerable himself, although given their different situations, he felt he really did not have that right.

Lupin finished his small meal and put his own bowl aside. "Our situation is not an easy one, Severus. But we cannot deny we've been complicit in it to a degree. We have carried on our relationship because it has given us no small amount of pleasure, really when we should have exercised restraint and perhaps sought assistance from Albus. You and I believed we were equal to it, I think because deep down, we didn't want to deny ourselves. It's human nature, is it not." Lupin smiled at Snape and continued.

"Thank you for being contrite at least even though we both know we didn't need sex to equalise our cores. That said, had I wanted to try bondage, then I'm pleased it was you and in the most excellent cause of soundly embarrassing that bloody wolf!" Lupin's smile broadened. "I admit though, I would have preferred something gentler than ship's rigging, possibly in the line of silk instead." Snape smiled back with a small laugh.

Lupin's face became serious again. "We are where we are, Severus. Every day you take me and it feels like a marvel, yet we both know it is Dark magic that cements the bond. Every night I take you, you make my body sing and my heart leap, and yet we know you only let me because we are enchanted. Do you recall how foul you found me not two months ago?" Snape's breath felt like it was snatched away by what Lupin had said. He knew he had thought badly of Lupin, but struggled to comprehend it now. He couldn't countenance reverting to hating Lupin. Surely, it wasn't all the Thrall. Surely, he himself had changed?

"It's not the same, Remus, although I appreciate that you are trying to think well of me." Snape stood and sat on the bed and held Lupin's hands. "I'm scared what I could do to you but even being that scared, I want to do it anyway. I feel so weak, and yet it makes me feel so strong. It is almost too much for my mind to cope with."

Lupin squeezed his hands and leant forward and kissed him lightly. "It's too much for me too. But I still want you to come to bed."

Snape placed extra wards on the rooms for privacy, undressed and joined Lupin in bed. Snape half hoped Lupin wouldn't ask him to renew the Thrall as he was uncomfortable taking Lupin when he was so weak. But Lupin pressed close to Snape and kissed him lightly and then turned so that his back was against Snape's chest, and all Snape's noble misgivings were pushed from his mind in an instant by his deep yearning to possess Lupin.

Lupin reached back his right arm so that he could stroke Snape's hair, and Snape kissed Lupin's neck as Snape eased off the pyjama trousers he had so recently put on Lupin. He held Lupin to his chest, chanting his name, and, not needing to prepare his lover for long, pushed in gently, each man moaning at the perfect feel of it. Barely had their union started than the vortex began, before the men were even near to climax. The tumult languorously drew their orgasms from them in waves and was still the fierce and perfect union of their cores, but in their rapture they were also enveloped each other's tenderness. As the vortex thrummed as it subsided, the remaining tenderness comforted Lupin in his weakness and it comforted Snape in his soul.

The men lay together, basking in perfect contentment and gradually Snape stirred, and pulled Lupin fully into his arms. It seemed in no time at all, Lupin had fallen asleep in his arms, and Snape was grateful and enjoyed the feel of him and stroked his hair whilst he thought.

Snape had come to see the vortex as the heart of the Thrall itself. It surely demonstrated now that it had responded to them, or at least to Snape, in changing its nature to bring its extraordinary pleasure to both men, whilst ensuring Lupin had not been punished physically due to his weakness. Snape was profoundly grateful for this adaptation. He had been fearful in renewing the Thrall he could injure Lupin, even though he knew it would ultimately strengthen Lupin.

Snape was starting to feel that he was taking advantage of the necessity of the act. For days, it had felt like the ultimate gift to take this man who Snape found so attractive and who was so willing, and feel their ecstasy combine but now he was beginning to hate himself for wanting it so much, knowing it had endangered Lupin.

How much did Lupin need it? How much did he want it? Ah, the real question was: how much was Lupin _obliged_ to feel both those things? Snape supposed he now considered that Lupin's desire was actually compulsion. It upset Snape. He realised he was hurt. He wanted Lupin to desire him without the Thrall and there was no way he could know if he would. _You are never happy_ , his sly voice told him. _You have never been more contented, and yet you cast doubt on it all._ But his sly voice wasn't right, was it? It was true he had never been so contented, but of course he cast doubt on it. Their whole relationship was built on a slave enchantment and he held Lupin's safety in an unquantified balance. His conscience was troubling him very badly indeed.

When Lupin awoke a couple of hours later, he asked Snape again to talk to him about his troubles.

"What makes you think I'm concerned," Snape said, still holding Lupin in his arms.

"Oh," said Lupin lightly, "a small matter of a bond enchantment that sends your feelings directly to my gut." He turned himself out of Snape's arms to look at him. Snape's brow furrowed. "I know you are distressed. Is it what we discussed this morning?" Lupin stroked Snape's cheek with his hand, and they faced each other on the bed, hands held lightly.

Snape told him as honestly as he could of his reservations and fears. He had become used to speaking of his feelings to Lupin, something he could not have done before. He had assumed it was the Thrall, but Lupin did not agree.

"I know the Thrall enabled the relationship we have, Severus," Lupin said gently, looking Snape in the eyes candidly. "I'm under no illusions as to what your feelings were about me before this happened. But through it, we have got to know each other probably more intimately than I think either of us could have imagined. You have shown me your body _and_ soul, Severus, and I care for both very deeply. I don't believe my feelings in that regard are the work of the Thrall." Snape's mind was reeling and his stomach clenched, but he didn't doubt Lupin's veracity for one moment.

"I don't pretend to be happy that my well-being is in a somewhat precarious position as we don't know the thresholds of the Thrall, but I don't blame you for that." Lupin cast his eyes down momentarily, and swallowed audibly and then his eyes met Snape's again. "I have seen that you have tried to respect and protect me and I trust you."

Snape found he had no words for how elated and yet how humbled he felt at this moment as he regarded the shining blue eyes that smiled fondly at him now. He could do nothing more than kiss Lupin fiercely and hope the meaning of that kiss was understood.

oooOOOooo

Snape had taught Lupin the charm to check his core and insisted that he perform it every hour and make a note of its reading, and Snape would do likewise, so that they could try to piece together how and when Snape was draining Lupin's core. Silently, it made Snape quite fearful that he was utterly unaware that he was doing anything and therefore incapable of controlling it and, so far, they had not been able to trace any logic to it although it was undeniably happening. Snape hated to admit it, but he had to be grateful to the wolf for alerting them to the seriousness of the situation.

It was Lupin who eventually found the obscure reference to the appropriation of the magical core and it was in the original book that Lupin had brought to Snape's chambers all those weeks ago. It wasn't in the chapter under Thralls but in the _Miscellaneous Usages of Dark Beasts_ chapter.

In this book, it was envisaged that all Dark creatures could be utilised for a wizard's benefit, whether as slave labour, sexual, manual or whatever the wizard required, or as farmed commodities. This particular chapter posited that those beasts of particularly strong magical cores, such as magical werewolves (not Muggle), centaurs, and the like, could be farmed and their magical cores as good as milked to supplement a wizard's to give him greater power. It had not been contemplated in any of the books' chapters on Thralls, so it looked as if this had been the inventive addition of the caster of the Thrall.

"Our caster's really got it in for me," remarked Lupin glumly as he read this out to Snape. "Or rather Albus. Imagine if such a thing were discovered, how someone like Malfoy would make mileage out of a claim that Albus was only so powerful because he "milked" his werewolf bondsman. It's beyond foul, Severus," Lupin said, shaking his head and pushing the book aside.

"It certainly is," Snape agreed gently, "and it's also fiendishly clever." He took the book and continued to read the most detailed chapter on the casting required. "But it occurs to me that as it is not an integral part of the Thrall casting that perhaps we may be able to break that part of the enchantment on its own." Snape's mouth drew to a thin line of concentration. "Compared with the Thrall, Remus, this would be a relatively simple counter-curse and I'm sure we can work it between us. We should concentrate on this as it would remove the most injurious threat to you,"

Of all the component parts of the Thrall that they had discovered, this was the part that had upset him the most as he would benefit in direct proportion to any injury inflicted on Lupin.

He and Lupin worked through this enchantment solidly in their free time for the next fortnight and when they were sure they had worked out the last of the counter-enchantment, and the attendant complex wand movements, they resolved to try to break the appropriation curse the following weekend. Only Snape could cast it, according to the book so, in this, Lupin would have to trust him to work it.

They resolved to cast the counter-curse on the first Sunday which also coincided with the waxing of the moon. They cleared the furniture from Snape's drawing room and Lupin sat on the floor before him. Snape began to cast the counter-curse with its choreographed wand movements. Half way through the counter-curse, his own core began to pulse with silver light and Lupin's with blue. The pulsing snaked around each man, causing each man to tremble slightly. Neither had been aware this would happen, but Snape's concentration did not break and he continued in the casting. The pulsing then travelled and pulsed around the other man, and their trembling increased. Snape was perspiring now and he struggled to maintain the casting but he persevered. The full counter-curse took half an hour to cast and when Snape finally brought the casting to an end as the trembling subsided and the pulsing lights retreated to the other man's core. He dropped down to his knees, exhausted and Lupin crawled over to him, placing his arm around his shoulder to try to steady him and then to hold him close.

oooOOOooo

Lupin had showered and left Snape's chambers for his own and then for breakfast before the school day started. Snape was showering and turning over their successful casting in his mind and how pleased he was they had been relieved of that immediate danger of unwittingly draining Lupin's core. They had tested their cores following the casting and for the rest of the day, and it seemed that there were no fluctuations. When they renewed the Thrall this morning, he had chanted because it increased their ecstasy in the vortex but they didn't need to equalise their cores. Snape had felt an enormous burden lift from him, for which he was very grateful.

Suddenly, he felt overcome with a feeling he really hadn't felt before. It was an extraordinary feeling. It made him feel slightly giddy as if he could giggle. Well, he didn't believe he'd ever giggled in his life and he wasn't going to give into the notion now. But what was it?

He dried himself, dressed and collected his lesson plans for the day, and quickly looked at Lupin's timetable for today. They both finished early. _Hmmmmm._

Could it really be ... he felt ...yes, he did. He felt...

Mischievous.

oooOOOooo

He'd seen the last of his Gryffindors and Slytherins out of their Potions lesson, determined not to let their usual abysmal performance ruin his good mood and his plans for the rest of the afternoon. He made his preparations and then sat at his desk and concentrated on Lupin, really rather hard, a mischievous grin spreading across his face and heavy, thick and hot desire pooling in his groin as soon as he allowed it. He had never purposefully exercised the Call before, but now he tried, it was almost palpable from his groin to his gut outwards.

Within five minutes, Lupin strode through his class room door, looking stunned. Snape wandlessly locked the door and completed the warding he started earlier and stood up from his chair.

"You Called me!" Lupin said breathily. "You just Called me to you. Just now."

"I did," Snape said, one eyebrow raised. His heart beating fast and his knees weakening at the sight of Lupin whose eyes were fully dilated, and was clearly very aroused.

"I ... I ... it was so strong!" Lupin was struggling, now standing in front of Snape. "I thought something was wrong. I don't know why. I .. I..." Lupin stared at Snape wide-eyed. "You've never done that deliberately before. I knew it was deliberate. I could tell."

"It was very deliberate," Snape said silkily. "You see, someone once told me his fantasy." He tilted his head and smiled a half smile at Lupin. "It appears that we have some time free this afternoon, so ... well, I thought you might like..." Lupin stopped the rest of the sentence with his mouth, kissing him hard and pulling his waist to him.

"Are we private?" he asked hoarsely as he pushed Snape back over his desk, manoeurvring himself to stand between Snape's legs and moving him slightly down the desk

"Very."

Still standing, Lupin ran his wand slowly down the many buttons at the front of Snape's robe, and each opened as the wand passed. He parted Snape's robe gently and gasped almost in wonder that Snape was, indeed, quite naked underneath. The look on Lupin's face was one of the sexiest things Snape thought he had ever seen, especially because Lupin was looking at him.

"Merlin, Severus," he gasped and smiled lasciviously and pushed the palms of his hands up from Snape's waist to his chest and down the sides of his torso, making Snape's back arch and then started to kiss and suck on his exposed neck, moving his open robe just slightly off Snape's shoulder to bite the joint gently and then run his tongue along his clavicle. His hands still ministering to Snape's sensitive sides, Snape's back still arching, Lupin kissed and sucked at Snape's prone adam's apple as his head was thrown back, sighing with pleasure, as Lupin's robe's rubbed over Snape's exposed genitals with deliciously slow friction.

Lupin then kissed and sucked on Snape's chest whilst his hands moved down, opening his own robe and trousers and then moved Snape's legs wide, his left arm placed under Snape's thigh keeping it high, whilst using the hand to brace himself, and his right hand preparing Snape with his fingers. Snape's sighs became ragged gasps as Lupin moved his fingers deep and fast to excite him. Lupin then thrust himself in full length, making Snape's back arch fully with the sharp fullness of it, and Snape himself moaned loudly. He threw his arm back to grasp the top edge of the desk to brace himself.

Lupin grasped Snape's free hand and wrapped it around Snape's own erection. "In time with me," he growled. Lupin, still standing straight and now using his right hand to hold Snape's hip firmly, rolled into his thrusts deep and hard and fast. Snape was thrilled by the roughness of it, by the naked and unglossed desire he could see in Lupin's eyes. The relentless pace Lupin set hit his prostate over and over and over, stoking his already hot desire and eventually tipping him into his fierce orgasm. He cried out, as Lupin's continued to thrust into him, clearly in a frenzy of his own passion, until he called out Snape's name in a harsh cry, and then slowed his pace, Snape feeling the powerful ejaculation pulsing into him.

Lupin then leant forward, relaxing somewhat but not totally, and kissed Snape fully and slowly, breaking the kisses to rub his face against his own, repeating his name gently. As their breath calmed, he stood again, still holding Snape in place, a slight tremor in his thighs. Snape lifted his upper body onto his elbows and watched Lupin looking at the scene in front of him as if imprinting it on his mind.

"This is a picture I want to remember for my long, cold nights, Severus. I want to remember every detail," he said, his voice husky and his small smile playing around his mouth. He picked up his wand and cleansed Snape's stomach and his own robes that had become stained and then put his wand down again and adjusted Snape's body with his own. Lupin's erection had not fully deflated and he was still inside Snape and Snape felt Lupin's cock twitch at the movement. He looked down to see the root of Lupin's shaft still inside him and he couldn't deny that he found it very arousing.

"Is it your intention to impale me on this desk permanently?" he drawled, realising from the look on Lupin's face that he had every intention of taking him again.

"Not permanently, Severus, but certainly for a while yet," Lupin smiled and leant forward to kiss him. "It is, as you recall, my fantasy," he whispered and began to kiss Snape's neck again and started to push into him, gently this time. Snape gasped as he felt Lupin's erection begin to grow inside him with each thrust ad felt his desire rekindle in kind. But this time, Lupin was gentle and his love-making almost languid, kissing Snape's face and neck lovingly whilst his hand ensured that Snape came in time with him.

When Lupin finally disengaged from Snape (which he seemed reluctant to do), he slumped onto Snape's chair and pulled Snape onto his lap. He chuckled as he fingered the buttons on Snape's open robe and then stroked Snape's stomach gently as Snape leant his head on Lupin's own.

"What is funny now, Remus," Snape mock-chided.

"Even this picture is almost too sexy to resist," he continued to chuckle, still caressing Snape's stomach through his open robe. "Where are the rest of your clothes?"

"In my office. You'll be pleased to know I did not teach my classes in a state of semi-nudity." Snape did his best to sound scornful, but suspected he had failed as Lupin nuzzled his neck, chuckling still.

"Thank you, Severus," he said quietly into his hair. Snape smiled to himself. He felt for the first time, he and Lupin could conquer the Thrall, even it was step by step. They had vanquished the appropriation curse, and Snape had been very careful of his moods. The way he felt at the moment, he could not think of anything that could make him angry enough to hurt Lupin.

 


	13. Punishment & Discovery

Harry Potter. There he was, dashing about the Quidditch pitch on his newly-declared-curse-free Firebolt.

 _Just like his father. Arrogant. Conceited. Spoilt. Indulged. Look at him, preening like the perfect peacock at the Ravenclaw seeker. And look at Remus. Stupidly proud of a child he barely knows. Cheering him on as if he were his father._ Snape was seething to himself from the Slytherin stand, alternately watching Lupin possessively in the next stand, glowering at the boy and scowling at the Gryffindor commentator's ridiculously biased, fawning commentary. He was irritated and, as Slytherin wasn't playing, he was bored, so he let his mind wander.

It was bitterly cold, as February in Scotland always was. He would have quite happily missed today's match and stayed in the warmth of his bed with Lupin, who should have been resting anyway but had wanted to watch Potter fly. It was only two days since the last full moon. There had been no appearance by the wolf, even though Snape had spent the day of the full moon with Lupin to bind the wolf if necessary. It was true that Lupin had become short-tempered and unpleasant as they day wore on, but the wolf did not make itself known.

Lupin's transformation went well and it was his very best recovery to date. Poppy had been delighted and had declared the Headmaster would be well pleased. Snape had been making copious notes since they had first discovered that the Thrall could affect a werewolf's transformations, keeping these for when he would have time to work on that part of the Thrall to relieve a werewolf's symptoms and blood lust. He hoped, once they had unravelled the Thrall, he would be able to work on that part alone, which could prove revolutionary.

Aside from this, Lupin had been absurdly attentive to Snape since he'd managed to lift the appropriation curse and indulged Lupin's fantasy in Snape's classroom two weeks previously. Snape allowed himself a smile at the recollection of Lupin's attentions, which were almost incessant when they were alone, both affectionate and sexual and usually putting paid to any conversation, research or other pursuit they had endeavoured. Snape put it mostly down to the overwhelming relief they both felt that Snape no longer had the power to drain Lupin's magic to a lethal degree. Snape devoured all those attentions hungrily, _as a starving man so often does_ , he thought to himself with an imperceptible shake of the head. It was a revelation to him.

When he recalled his solitary existence before the Thrall, he wondered how he had gone for so many years without any affection whatsoever. He supposed he had been the recipient of so little emotional or physical affection, he just didn't fully appreciate it was missing from his life. He only knew the results of its absence: his distrust, coldness and harshness with others. The only attention he had ever received from his mother was the healing of wounds inflicted by his father that occasionally might be accompanied by a cursory hug or kiss. He suspected that small kindnesses followed violence had been an unhealthy association to make at a young age.

He had only ever really trusted and loved Lily Evans, whom he had adored more or less at first sight, when he'd watched her undeniable skill even as a child on those swings. He was even pleased that she was Muggle-born because he could teach her and there was no-one to compete with him for her attention until school. She would hold his hand or loop her arm through his, and sometimes even hug and lightly kiss him in that easy way of hers that would always lift his soul. Each and every touch of hers was like a small flame of hope to him: the only real physical kindness he had ever known. Each touch was burned onto his soul because they were so unusual to him. But even Lily never seemed to be able to penetrate his deep mistrust of anyone other than herself although she used to try. Eventually, he had driven her away and into the arms of another. He prayed he wouldn't do anything so stupid this time.

Of course, Lily had never been his lover. They had been very young as friends, but he never doubted that had she ever desired him as they had got older, he would have worshipped at her feet. But no, his only sexual experiences as a young man were unpleasant, coerced or tawdry. As he got older, he had only ever sought sexual release rarely and never of the type of joyous abandonment he enjoyed so fully with Lupin. Then again, he'd never experienced it before, so how could he miss it? But if he lost it now, he couldn't comprehend how he would stand it and his stomach roiled at the prospect. No, he didn't intend to lose Lupin.

A great roar interrupted his private thoughts and his attention returned to the match in time to see Potter and Miss Chang diving for the snitch then Potter veering upwards sharply and Miss Chang following in his wake. A quick look at Lupin and he saw Lupin cheering for Potter wildly and still Snape was irritated by it. He shouldn't be but he was. Then, he heard a scream, and turning quickly back to the pitch saw Potter conjure a huge corporeal Patronus. A stag. He took a sharp intake of breath, following it as it charged down ... Malfoy and his cronies dressed as Dementors! That stupid boy! Snape was furious. He hit the barrier in front of him and moved to leave the stand to take charge of the miscreants before Minerva murdered them, which, by the look on her face, would be imminently if he didn't get a move on. He heard the whistle sound and, to make matters worse, the match was over and bloody Potter had caught the snitch.

As he charged towards the pitch, he saw Lupin had already got there and was leaning forward to say something confidential to Potter. Lupin looked pleased, but also shaken. He watched with mounting unease as Lupin led Potter to the edge of the pitch to laugh at Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Flint. His intervention would now be too late. Minerva had them now and was shouting at them. Dumbledore also approached the scene, so Snape hung back and then walked away to wait for Lupin in his chambers. He could have joined him to walk back, but he found himself too cross to speak.

Seeing Lupin so interested in, and happy with, the boy who looked so much like Lupin's childhood best friend had made Snape angry and, if he were honest, jealous. Jealous of nothing more than a memory of a friend. Jealous of something about which he could do absolutely nothing. With that jealousy came all sorts of unbidden memories of those friends tormenting him and imaginings of what those same friends would say to Lupin if they knew who his lover was now: Snivellus. He'd already lost one person he loved to Potter; he be damned if he'd lose another. He burned inside with remembered and imagined slights and wounds as he stalked back to his rooms, pacing them until Lupin returned.

Lupin followed shortly after. He took off his cloak and sat down heavily, his faced wreathed in a huge smile which undid some of Snape's anger and he reached for Snape's hand and held it tightly. "Did you see it Severus? Did you see Harry's Patronus? Fourteen years old! Can you believe it? I mean his father was talented at school, but that was some Patronus!" Lupin gushed.

Snape twisted his mouth to sneer a response but stopped himself when he noticed that Lupin was pale and a sheen of perspiration covered his face. Why did he hold his stomach like that? Why did he look so pale? Did his hand have a slight tremor?

"What's the matter Remus? You look unwell." He strode over to Lupin, knelt on the floor in front of him, and snatched up his wrist to take his pulse.

"Well ... um ... I started feeling somewhat unwell after the match. I'm sure it will pass, Severus," Lupin said, looking at Snape fondly.

"Tell me what you feel. I need to know," Snape said urgently, holding Lupin's chin gently. "I saw you after the match talking to Potter. You looked shaken. Why?"

"I ... I was shocked by his Patronus," Lupin said.

"Yes, yes, but why would that shake you?" Snape said impatiently.

"It was a stag, like James's ... um ...like James's Patronus." Lupin seemed hesitant. Snape searched Lupin's face. He was keeping something from him. What? Was it important? Lupin had never dissembled with him before, but he was certain he was dissembling now.

"What are you hiding from me, Remus?" Snape drew back from Lupin.

"This is not something you need to know, Severus. Please don't ask me. Believe me that it doesn't matter to you ... to us. Please." Lupin's eyes pleaded and Snape found himself confused and conflicted. He wanted to press for the truth because there _was_ a truth to be revealed, but Lupin had never asked something like this from him before. He should trust him. It was hard. He sat back down on the floor, in front of Lupin.

"Go on then," Snape said quietly. "Then, what did you feel?"

"Then, I suppose it was a bit like a cold sweat and palpitations and cramps in my stomach hit at once. Not terrible, but it's very unpleasant. I thought I'd just come back and ... I don't know ... sleep it off." Lupin was regarding Snape with worry.

Realisation hit Snape like a boulder. Since he saw Lupin with Potter, he had been cross and jealous and he was relatively certain his emotions had just activated a punishment boundary for Lupin. He picked up Lupin's hands again and pressed his forehead against them, breathing deeply to try to calm himself. He heard Lupin call his name, but he shook his head and didn't answer until he felt himself calm down. He carried on breathing deeply until he could feel his anger and jealousy pushed safely down into his Occluded mind.

When he looked up, Lupin had moved onto the floor and was sitting in front of him, his face drawn with concern. Looking again, he could see Lupin's colour had improved and he no longer looked clammy.

"How do you feel now, Remus," Snape asked.

Lupin looked confused momentarily, then his expression brightened. "It's all gone. Whatever it was, it's gone. Did you do that?" Lupin asked excitedly.

"I think I caused it," Snape's voice was small and a flush of shame rose from his collar up his cheeks. "So I've taken it away."

Lupin's mouth dropped slightly and then he said, a small choke in his voice, "But why Severus? What have I done?" He took his hands from Snape's and the look of sadness that now crossed Lupin's face upset Snape even more, but it was no more than he deserved.

"I was angry, jealous. I don't know what to say to say to you. I'm sorry. It didn't cross my mind that you would feel this ... reaction ... to my own stupidity." Snape felt wretched and ridiculous.

"I don't understand, Severus. Jealous of whom? Angry about what?" Snape could see Lupin was searching his memory for something to fit the reaction. "Not because I spoke to Harry, surely?"

Snape looked away. "It just reminded me of his father and your friends." He sighed heavily, knowing how irrational it made him sound, but he just couldn't help himself. Seeing that hated reminder of that bullying every day, in conjunction with Lupin, now his lover, he found he just had no resilience.

"Severus," Lupin whispered, "that's not rational. Please, we've discussed this before. Harry is not his father. His father is dead; you must let it go. I'm the only Marauder left and you don't hate me this way. Please, Severus, be reasonable."

"I am not a reasonable man, Remus. You know this!" Snape barked with frustration and wanted to say more but stopped himself, seeing a small reflex flinch in Lupin as if hurt. He pinched the bridge of his nose to try to focus. "I have just had to confess something to you that exposes me as an irrational fool. I have done this because I know my lack of control has just harmed you. Please don't make me feel worse than I do already." Snape was weary and sad. What must Lupin think of him? Snape flexed his legs out, then bent them at the knees and rested his arms across them, placing his head on his arms in misery.

Lupin stood and walked over to Snape's fireplace, looking more reserved that Snape had seen him these past two months. He turned to look at Snape and when he spoke, his voice was calm and measured.

"We know you have a temper, and you've told me are a jealous man, Severus. I will do my best to help you with this. But I cannot countenance you dredging up ancient history that cannot hurt you anymore, cannot hurt us and has nothing to do with us. And using it as a basis for a grudge against a child, Severus, really is beneath you. I believe you to be a better man than that."

"Aren't you concerned that I made you unwell?" Snape looked up at Lupin from his crossed arms.

"Of course I am," Lupin's voice rose, but then he visibly controlled himself once more. "But there's nothing _I_ can do to control it, Severus. But it is within your control if you're prepared become the master of your temper." Lupin was breathing slightly harder.

Snape stood and went over to Lupin and hung his arms loosely around Lupin's waist. "Please forgive me, Remus," he whispered.

Lupin stroked Snape's cheek gently and kissed him. "Even without the Thrall, Severus, I would still find this anger and jealousy very hard to handle. But without the Thrall, at least I could walk away until you calmed down."

"Do you want to walk away?" Snape asked, a catch in his voice betraying his fear, his heart pounding nervously. He was too new at this. He thought he was losing him.

Lupin shook his head sadly. "No, Severus. That's not what I meant. I meant, I could give you distance to calm down and then we would try to patch things up. It's what couples who care for each other do when they have problems." He stroked Snape's face reassuringly again. "I don't understand how you can be jealous when you have me so totally."

Snape stared at Lupin and relished all of those words. He supposed when he thought about the time they spent together, he did have him totally, but that was not his fear. His fear was losing him to others, real or imagined. _Or killing him_ , he added to himself. He kissed him longingly.

"Can we sit down and try this evening again?" Snape asked nervously. Lupin nodded and they sat down together.

oooOOOooo

It was late into the night, having enjoyed a private meal together and into their third game of chess and third glass of Firewhiskey when suddenly a cat Patronus entered the drawing room, and Minerva's voice sounded. "Sirius Black broke into Gryffindor Tower with a knife. He has escaped. We need to scour the castle. Come to my office now."

The two men Floo'd straight Minerva's office one after the other, followed by the other professors at various intervals. They all fanned out where Dumbledore directed them, separately searching by eye, ear and spell for Sirius Black.

As Snape prowled the corridors, he thought he would very much like to be the one to find Sirius Black. He clenched his wand tightly as he searched. As he scoured the corridors and passageways and classrooms on his designated route, he imagined finding him. Would he be able to stop himself torturing him? He thought he might not. It was no surprise to Snape that Black had broken the Fidelius charm so the Dark Lord could murder Lily. As far as Snape was concerned, Black had as good as cast the curse himself. Black came from a long line of demented pureblood maniacs. It should have been no surprise to anyone that his cruelty would escalate to murder. After all, he's so nearly accomplished it when they were sixteen, even stooping to using a supposed best friend to do the deed. He imagined all the curses he could cast on him and then producing the convict for the Dementor's Kiss. He breathed deeply as he searched, extra oxygen fuelling his search and his long-standing rage against the man himself. He searched extensively but could find nothing.

Disappointed, he made his way along the third floor corridor, when he heard a quiet voice. "Sirius? Sirius? Are you there?" He recognised Lupin's voice.

His whole body went cold as he rounded the corner slowly to see Lupin by the statue of the one-eyed witch looking around, with his lit wand held high. No defensive posture at all: a man looking for a lost friend.

In that moment, Snape felt as if his mind cracked in two and his fury exploded as he strode towards Lupin raging, "You were calling for Black! I heard you! I was right all along. You've been letting him into the castle to kill the boy." He heard Lupin say "No Severus, please, no," but the sound was very distant and not really heard above the roar of Snape's blood pounding through his veins and his own rising voice.

"Your supposed best friend's child! Why would you do that for Black? Why? Was he your lover before? Is that it? Have you been duping me all along? TELL ME LUPIN!" he roared, quite out of his wits, not even seeing in his blind rage that Lupin was collapsing before him and his body starting to convulse and his eyes rolling back as Snape grabbed his robes in his fists. It was only when Lupin began to scream that Snape became aware of what had happened and released his hands as if burnt and moved away in shock, his eyes widening as Lupin's body twisted as it rose into the air. "Remus," he gasped as he started to come to his wits.

In a blinding white light that Snape had seen once before on a hilltop nearby, Snape was Disarmed and a full shield charm was cast around Lupin's body in one movement.

"Get away from him, Severus!" Dumbledore hissed out of nowhere, and Snape moved backwards, wandless, and utterly terrified.

"You dare to use Dark magic under this roof," Dumbledore spoke, his voice deep with menace and his wand raised against Snape as he glided towards him, holding Snape's own wand in his left hand.

Lupin had stopped writhing and screaming, but was still convulsing as if Snape had cast the Cruciatus. But he hadn't. Dumbledore must surely know he hadn't.

"No, Albus, please," Snape whispered. "I didn't ... it's not..."

"Silence!" Dumbledore's powerfully resonant voice sliced through Snape's feeble protestations. Snape felt the thrum of Dumbledore's restrained magic. "Go to your quarters now. I will deal with you there. Go!"

oooOOOooo

Snape arrived at his quarters, his ragged breath tearing at his lungs as he fell through the door. He went straight to the Firewhiskey bottle he and Lupin had left hours earlier, and poured himself a glass. A fair amount ended up around the glass and on the floor his hands shook so badly. The sight of Lupin twisting and screaming before him replayed over and over in his mind's eye and he slid to the floor, his breath hitching as he started to weep. Lupin would never forgive him. Never, and nor could he even expect it. He covered his face with his hands.

The punishment threshold for his anger was the Cruciatus curse. A Dark enchantment with an Unforgiveable curse as its punishment. That bastard Malfoy certainly had enjoyed himself with this enchantment. He hoped he survived this to give Malfoy a dose of this back with interest for his and Lupin's sake. He downed the glass in one, and poured another. Dumbledore would have him in Azkaban by morning if Snape couldn't convince him he hadn't been the caster of either. He downed the second.

He managed to stand shakily, poured a third and went to sit at his desk with the bottle so he could help himself liberally. Dumbledore would have taken Lupin to the hospital wing. Poppy would give Lupin the Potion Snape himself had created and perfected when he was in the service of the Dark Lord. He had received the Cruciatus often and had used all his Potions skill to invent a potion that could repair the nerve endings that would be torn and shorn by this most cruel of curses. It would work eventually, but Lupin would suffer the excruciating after-effects for a day or so to come.

Would Dumbledore tell Poppy that Snape had cast Dark magic against Lupin? And Minerva and Filius? He leant his head on the desk and laced his fingers over the back of his hair, keening in his distress.

His breath eventually calmed, and his tears dried on his face. Soon Dumbledore would come. Snape's mind was in disarray and he didn't know what he would say. Yesterday, he had been happy. Now, he had tortured and lost Lupin through his own ridiculous rage and jealousy, Dumbledore would never listen to or trust him again, and he had no-one; he was utterly alone.

 


	14. Confessions

It was many hours before Dumbledore came to Snape's quarters. In that time, Snape had drunk himself into a state of worn out desolation then onto mindless oblivion.

Snape became dimly aware through the hammering in his head of his name being called sharply. His eyes were sore and puffy, and his neck and back were stiff and painful. He realised he'd passed out drunk on his desk where he'd sat drinking. He felt slight pressure on his shoulder. His eyes fluttered open and focused on Dumbledore standing before him. He tried to sit up straight quickly, but ended up with his head in his hands to try to stop the pressure cracking his skull open. A small phial was placed on the desk in front of him.

"Drink it," Dumbledore said curtly. "Shower, and get dressed."

Snape drank the Sober-Up Potion and then stood gingerly, testing each step against his ferocious headache and aching limbs. He snatched a quick look at Dumbledore's face. The expression was closed, the mouth thin and his eyes were appraising. It had been many, many years since Dumbledore had looked upon him in that mistrusting and calculating manner and it made his guts churn.

As he showered, practically scrubbing himself raw in his agitation, the Potion quickly got to work dispelling the after effects of his excessive drinking bout, but it didn't help with the incessant churning in his gut or the trembling in his limbs that were the result of his fear, not his hangover. His small window in his bathroom told him it was after dawn, he assumed on the Sunday. At least Dumbledore hadn't hexed him into the arms of waiting Aurors, which was what he had expected, so perhaps he would have the chance to plead his case. Even so, he knew how the man despised Dark magic. Used on one of his golden Gryffindors, he would no doubt be beyond fury.

Snape knew the power of the man. He had served both Dumbledore and the Dark Lord. He had feared the limitless cruelty of the Dark Lord, without doubt, but he feared Dumbledore more. Yes, the Dark Lord had been powerful but he was dismissive of that which he did not value or understand. Dumbledore was powerful, but tempered his own power with his compassion and vast knowledge; he understood the soul and the ancient and natural magics that interwove through all living things. Dumbledore had taught him to see through the vanity of power and had shown Snape how to re-connect with his own soul. It had been heart-rending but, for the first time in his life after Lily's murder, he had felt he could earn some degree of redemption, even if it was a long and painful process. He needed and wanted that so greatly that the thought of losing that long-term goal, with everything else he had lost last night, physically pained him and found himself now devastated.

Clean now, shaven and dressed, he entered his own drawing room like a penitent to confession.

Dumbledore stood, straight-backed in front of the fireplace, looking nothing like 114 years of age, except in wisdom. Snape knew his dotty grandfather act concealed an incisive and brilliant mind, that only gained acuity with each passing year, and magical power, still accreting to itself, beyond most wizards' wildest imaginings.

The time of reckoning had come, just as it had done before. There could be no dissembling from Albus Dumbledore. Snape stood before him feeling every one of the eighty years difference in their ages, feeling sorrowful, shamed and worthless.

"You are riddled with Dark magic Severus, even as you stand here before me," Dumbledore stated coldly. "The stain of it covers Remus in the hospital wing. The feel of it disgusts me," Dumbledore exhaled heavily.

"Please do not condemn me without hearing me, Albus," he stated quietly. Unlike the last time when he had pleaded with Dumbledore, only his life was now at stake. This time, he did not grovel. He was calm, although infinitely weary.

Dumbledore would be angry, he knew, but he knew Snape now. Surely, he would give him the benefit of the doubt. "I did not cast the Cruciatus curse on Remus. It is not what it looked like. It is a complicated matter: there _is_ a Dark enchantment, but I swear to you I did not cast it. Will you allow me to explain it to you?"

"Remus has spoken for you but I need to find out for myself from you before I decide on a course of action. He has told me you did not weave it. I know Remus is in your Thrall, Severus. You know as well as I that I cannot take his word on it: he is your bondsman now and cannot act other than your physical compulsion of him allows," Dumbledore said, his disgust passing unguarded on his features.

 _My bondsman,_ Severus thought with horror, _he is no longer is own man to give evidence for himself because his existence is dependent on me in the eyes of the wizarding world and by this magical bond._

"However, he has told me of your outburst and what caused it and I will make it very plain, Severus, that I trust Remus on this and I do not believe he is helping Sirius Black into this castle. Do you understand me? I do not wish to have this conversation with you again," Dumbledore said in tone of finality. Snape did not argue; he was too guilty about the outcome to examine those events again.

"How is Remus?" Snape almost whispered, fearing Dumbledore's reaction.

"Recovering," was all Dumbledore would say to him, his gaze guarded once more.

Dumbledore indicated that Snape should sit on one of the chairs at the table, and a tray of water and soft drinks appeared. Dumbledore clearly appreciated that a lot of explanation would be thirsty work. He took a seat opposite Snape and gestured for him to begin.

As intensely private as Snape was, he knew this would be difficult for him to tell. Part of him was immensely grateful that Lupin had broken the back of the story by telling it first. The telling of it would be mortifying nonetheless and he braced himself for the shame, justified or otherwise, he would feel. He spoke haltingly and impassively, but truthfully, but gave no private details of his and Lupin's liaisons.

He told Dumbledore of how his feelings had started to alter towards Lupin in November; of the first night of the Call and how it was irresistible; how he thought it was past; but how it then appeared cyclical with the moon; of Lupin's discovery of the Thrall; of their workings towards a counter-enchantment and ritual; he briefly outlined the wolf's splitting from Remus (but did not detail the assault); he set out as much detail as he could remember of the effect on Lupin's transformation. He told Dumbledore that they had carried on their physical relationship even though they knew it was part of a Dark enchantment and had believed they could break the enchantment themselves. He then told him of the conversation with Borgin and his revelations of the proposed target. Then he told of the revelations of the additional curse to appropriate Lupin's magical core that the werewolf itself had told Snape, and their eventual successful vanquishing of that curse.

He told Dumbledore that they knew there were punishment thresholds to the Thrall, which they had thought were limited to how unwell and sleepless Lupin had been when he ignored the Call and his bad transformation, but how this changed when the Thrall had been perfected. Finally, he told him how the first they had realised of the shocking nature of those thresholds was yesterday and he told Dumbledore about the Quidditch match and its aftermath right up to when Dumbledore had discovered them in the third floor corridor. He was honest about his anger and jealousy. Merlin knew, Dumbledore knew all about Snape's anger and jealousy of old.

After two hours, he finished. He waited.

Throughout this lengthy dissertation, Dumbledore had said nothing and had barely moved but had watched Snape intently and listened to every word and every nuance. In addition to his many years of accrued wisdom, his many years of sitting on the Wizengamot had helped to train his ear for mendacity. He regarded Snape steadily over his crescent glasses.

"You know what I must ask of you to test your veracity, Severus. Do you consent?" Dumbledore asked, his gaze like ice, indicating there could be no choice.

"I understand Albus," Snape said wearily. "I ask you to respect our privacy."

"I have only one purpose in ths, Severus," Albus clipped in a dangerous tone.

"I apologise," Snape said quickly, squeezing his eyes shut. Dumbledore had never intruded on his mind, unlike the Dark Lord, who counted it as one of his favourite forms of torture.

Snape breathed deeply and then nodded to Dumbledore, and then held his sharp, deep gaze.

_Legilimens._

He felt the gentlest of probing and brushing through knowledge, memories and snap-shots of magic performed. The only inspection was of his magic; no other aspects of his mind were touched. The man truly was the greatest Legilimens who ever lived. Dumbledore was thorough and he inspected Snape's magic for some time. Eventually, clearly having satisfied himself, Dumbledore withdrew gently from Snape's mind.

Dumbledore said nothing but drank some cordial, and then for a time regarded Snape coolly. Snape waited. He could be patient. After some time, Dumbledore's stance seemed to indicate an unspoken decision and he spoke.

"I had become aware in November that you and Remus seemed to have formed an attachment of sorts. Rather than being suspicious, I was delighted. Too much of a sentimental old fool, I suppose. Then, at Christmas, I became aware that there was something very wrong with the way you and Remus were behaving with each other and again on Christmas Day, I detected some inchoate Darkness – not quite formed, but immanent within you. I know you were aware I had. You've certainly being doing your best to avoid me. So, I will apologise to you in the same manner that I have already apologised to Remus. I should not have taken no for an answer from you, Severus. I should have recognised the Darkness for what it was and intervened, forcibly if required."

"It was private Albus, I did not want you to," Snape noted.

"Nevertheless, I will not tolerate Dark magic in this school. Also, the curse was intended for me and I feel responsible for the danger in which you have both been placed. Lethal danger, I may add."

"Certainly Remus was ..." Snape started.

"And you Severus. Remus has told me about the attack of the wolf which was the source and prompt for the violence," Dumbledore interjected, holding his index finger up to make the point.

Snape was thunderstruck. He would not have told Dumbledore that for both their sakes, but mainly for Remus's.

"It does you great credit Severus that you left that brutality out of your account and tells me more about your true feelings than you are possibly aware." Dumbledore gave him a small smile and there was the merest hint of a twinkle. Snape felt he might breathe again at last. "However, if you had come to me at that point, perhaps we could have prevented the perfection of the Thrall later. It's no small wonder the werewolf curse fractured Remus in that manner. Werewolves are notoriously dominant."

Snape shifted in his chair uncomfortably. This was too close to personal detail for him. "I am not well versed in the sexual proclivities of werewolves, or any other Dark creature, for that matter Albus," Snape scowled. "We had no idea of that, or that perfection would follow, or the hideous repercussions it would have for Remus," he declared defensively.

"You will forgive me if I disagree with you, Severus. Any charms, potions or curses to do with love and obsession are _always_ dangerous. And there is always a price to pay for the use of _any_ Dark magic." Dumbledore pinned Snape with his piercing blue eyes. "You," Dumbledore paused slightly, "of all people, know this. For you and Remus, the toll has been heavy." Snape averted his eyes and nodded abruptly, ashamed of his pride.

Dumbledore stood and walked over to the fireplace. He cast a complex revealing enchantment and inspected the privacy wards over the Floo. "That's extraordinary," he breathed. Snape went to stand next him looking at the magical threads his casting had revealed. Using his wand, Dumbledore picked out various strands that were blue, not silver. "You see, these are the wards that allow Remus entrance, no matter what. You see how they do not bear your casting signature? That is the direct effect of the Thrall. Quite extraordinary." He turned to Snape and smiled. "Remus told me your wards had been compromised and I was interested to see how your wards, of all people's, could have been tampered with." He waved the reveal away and the wards disappeared from view.

"I'm pleased to be such a worthwhile diversion," Snape drawled just for something to say, but inwardly pleased as it validated their claim of outside influences. Dumbledore took his seat again, and Snape followed suit.

They sat in silence for a while. Then Albus announced, "Ah, a late breakfast!" just before a house-elf appeared with an overflowing breakfast tray, which Albus set out on the table before them. Snape wasn't hungry, but knew this shared meal was the first step back from the precipice he had found himself on.

As he ate some egg and toast, he found his curiosity piqued. "Albus," Snape ventured. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement. "Do you know why the casting didn't take to you as the target?"

"Oh yes, dear boy," Dumbledore smiled, wiping the corners of his mouth with his napkin. "I have been the target of such curses, charms and potions for more years than I care to recall, but certainly since I sat on the Wizengamot and have been Headmaster of Hogwarts. There's always a Dark witch or wizard to hoping to either inveigle or blackmail their way to what they want. Voldemort tried several times in fact." Dumbledore shrugged his shoulders in a small chuckle. Snape was astounded. He'd had no idea.

"I was in love once when I was a youth, Severus. This love turned my head to the wrong path in many ways and it ended very badly for everyone, but for one person in particular, for which I can never forgive myself. I will speak no more of it. Suffice it to say, I took a Wizard's oath thereafter of celibacy, which I have not broken to this day. As I cannot break it myself, it cannot be broken by any other person. Not even Amortentia can breach the bastion of that vow."

Snape was reeling from this further astonishing confession. He had suspected he was celibate, assuming it would be due to his advanced age, but certainly not an oath as a young man. He would never know now as he knew Dumbledore would never speak of it again if he said so. He was always resolute when he made such declarations.

"In short, Severus, the Thrall was deflected by my vow. It apparently found another, I believe rather willing, target." He looked at Snape over his glasses with some amusement, which Snape found discomfiting.

"I don't know why you think I was willing ..." Snape blustered.

"Now, now, Severus," Dumbledore chided. "Without the Thrall, you just would have suppressed your feelings, as I've seen you do so often before. But I knew there was a spark, nonetheless at first. Do you deny it?"

"I don't know, truthfully."

"I believe I do. Remus told me that you shared many confidences with each other. I was impressed, Severus. There is no reason for the Thrall to make you unguarded with your innermost secrets.

"I was not the ... ah ... master of it at the time. I don't think it was functioning properly," Snape pointed out, rather embarrassed.

"Even so, such confidences were not necessary to the Thrall. But they _were_ necessary to the two of you trusting each other to work through what was happening to you. Also, look how you worked to find the counter-curse to prevent injury to Remus's magical core. The Thrall does not make the master _care_ for its object. The master has no need to care: he owns the object, no matter how badly he treats it. That you have come to care for Remus is your own doing, Severus. Your relationship can remain once we have unravelled the Thrall, _if you want it._ " Dumbledore glanced up from his breakfast plate, and looked knowingly at Snape.

 _He's twinkling, Merlin help me!_ Snape thought, rather hysterically as his fear was pushed to the very edge of his consciousness and his body relaxed. Snape coughed and continued eating. He desperately wanted to see Remus but thought it might be too soon to ask.

"What are your plans to unravel it, Albus," Snape asked instead.

"Remus filled me in on the work you've both been doing. It seems it's coming along. If I may say so, Severus, I have some not inconsiderable skill at casting and arithmancy which I will be happy to lend to your endeavours and I hope you will allow me the honour of be the third person to unravel the Thrall. May I see you current workings after breakfast?"

"Of course, Albus," Snape nodded. They finished eating and called for the house elves to clear away.

Snape retrieved all their papers, workings and books from his locked desk and spread them all before Dumbledore, taking him painstakingly through all the relevant material. Dumbledore found Snape's separate notes on the werewolf's blood lust and pain bindings. Snape explained what he hoped he would be able to do with this, once they had unravelled the Thrall. "Very impressive," Dumbledore said as he perused the final version of the counter-curse for the appropriation curse. Dumbledore cast a copying charm over many of the notes to take for his own use. He also asked to borrow two of the books they had.

"I have given this a great deal of thought Albus," Snape ventured. "I believe that the best time to perform ritual to unravel would be when Remus is at his most strong in the lunar cycle, when the moon begins to wax." Dumbledore nodded and smiled, his smile fully paternal once more. "I think it's realistic for us to aim to remove the Thrall after the next full moon," Dumbledore said with finality.

"Now," Dumbledore said firmly "there is a man who is anxious to see you as I can tell you are to see him." Snape's stomach flipped and the tightening around his heart seemed to ease when Dumbledore said this. _Remus is anxious to see me? Could that be true?_

"However," Dumbledore raised a finger, "we still have the issue of the Dark magic that is constantly at work. Even as we have been speaking, I see its emanations issuing from your core, Severus. It's a very active curse."

"I'm certainly more than aware of how active this curse is, Albus," Snape snapped, instantly regretting it, even though Dumbledore affected not to notice.

"I have bound the Thrall in Remus. I need do the same to you. Do you consent?" Snape murmured his assent. "This way, you cannot, even unwittingly, activate any of the punishment thresholds on Remus should someone look at either of you in a funny way."

Snape stiffened with offence. He knew he was temperamental, but surely he didn't deserve that. Dumbledore ignored Snape's affront. "It will not affect the ... ah ..." Dumbledore searched for a diplomatic turn of phrase, watching as his Potions Master started to flush as he understood Dumbledore's meaning, "more beneficial effects of the Thrall." _Surely Remus didn't tell him that – oh Merlin!_ Snape thought as he screwed his eyes shut.

Snape stood before Dumbledore as he drew his wand and cast an incantation that Snape felt working its many silky tendrils through his stomach and up into his chest, slightly constricting his breathing and then that feeling eased. He immediately committed the incantation and wand movements to his memory for future research and use.

"Right then, let's be off," Dumbledore said. "Oh Severus," he said lightly as he turned to Snape. "You'll need this." He passed Snape's wand into his hand and patted his shoulder. Snape's eyes shone with gratitude and relief that he could not express. _Forgiven._

oooOOOooo

He arrived at the infirmary wing with Dumbledore. He didn't see Lupin on the ward, but followed Dumbledore to one of the isolation rooms.

Lupin lay in bed in a hospital gown, propped up on many pillows, eyes closed. He looked truly shocking. His skin was practically transparent, with deep purple shadows under his eyes. There were still just perceptible tremors running over his body. Snape's head swam with recollections of just how much pain Lupin would now be feeling. Dumbledore moved in front of him, obscuring his view and went to Lupin's side.

Dumbledore picked up one of his hands gently and patted it. "Remus, dear boy. I've brought Severus with me. Do you still want to see him?"

 _Still?_ Snape thought _. I thought he'd never want to set eyes on me again. Perhaps he wants to hex me. Well, I'll let him._

He heard Lupin's hoarse affirmative. Snape noted the roughness in his voice, no doubt due to the screaming. Snape's stomach turned over in misery as he moved forward.

"I'll leave you two to talk," Dumbledore said quietly and closed the door behind him.

Snape stood before Lupin. For the second time today, it was time for a reckoning. He looked at the man in pain before him, his heart so full of sorrow, he couldn't bring any words to mind.

"Remus, I ... I ... oh Merlin, Remus, I'm so sorry," he burst out and took a step forward and then stopped himself. He had no idea what Lupin was thinking at this time.

"You must listen to me, Severus" Lupin said weakly. "I'm not very strong at the moment so please don't make things difficult for me. Sit on the bed, so I can talk to you."

Snape sat on the bed, facing Lupin. Lupin took one of Snape's hands lightly in his own. It startled Snape who had expected no such intimacy, but he stroked the hand with his free hand in wonder.

"Do you recall our conversation on Christmas Day?" Lupin started.

"This is hardly the same," Snape protested.

"Isn't it, Severus? Now please don't interrupt me." Lupin spoke with effort, taking many breaths in each sentence, a clear sign of the Cruciatus. "You forgave me for something ... I considered unforgiveable. If you hadn't, I know how much ... I would have despaired to have lost you in that way. I couldn't ... control what the wolf did to you, but as I said to you at the time, ... it was my body that did it. But you understood my affliction ... that was aggravated by the Thrall ... and you forgave me. Now, tell me why ... this is different." Lupin fell back into his pillows, clearly exhausted.

"I was stupid to react that way last night," Snape said, searching Lupin's blue eyes for hatred, but not finding it. "I just should have asked you why you were calling Black in that way. I jumped to conclusions and my temperamental nature betrayed you. My uncontrollable temper tortured you Remus." He shook his head, as if trying to dislodge the memory.

"We'll talk about Sirius ... another time. That's not important now," Lupin wheezed. "We no more knew that this Thrall had the Cruciatus woven in ... than I knew my wolf would take me over on Christmas Eve. ... Don't you see it is the same?" Snape stared at Lupin, desperately hoping that Lupin meant what he was saying, although he could barely believe it.

Lupin took another deep breath, and continued doggedly, never taking his eyes from Snape's. "If there were no Thrall with its punishment curse, ... you would have charged me down, we would have rowed, ... perhaps, we would even have duelled." Lupin smiled his small smile. "Who knows? But I am certain, Severus, ... that you would not have cursed me with the Cruciatus. Certain, ... do you understand me?" He leant forward as far as his weakened body would allow. "Your affliction is your anger and your jealousy ... and mine is Lycanthropy. Both were aggravated ... and changed by the Thrall." He pushed himself back into his pillows, slightly panting. "Allow me to forgive you Severus."

Snape moved up the bed and leant forward to kiss Lupin as gently as he could on the lips. "I don't deserve it," he said stubbornly.

"Albus bound the Thrall's punishments. Perhaps ... when I feel better, we should have a good row to clear the air. Then we can throw insults at each other to our hearts' content ... maybe the odd punch or hex. How does that sound?" Lupin smiled and kissed him back.

"You are a better man than I," Snape said, feeling still so terribly humble.

"I don't have the strength to give you ... the same kind of stirring speech you gave to me ... on Christmas Day, Severus," Lupin said gently, kissing Snape's forehead. "So I will just ask you to come to bed."

Snape visibly started and his eyes widened. "Here? In the hospital wing? With Poppy in her office?" he hissed, utterly scandalised.

Lupin smiled. "Private room. Can be warded, if necessary."

"Albus will probably think I'm drinking your blood if I ward the room," Snape said wryly.

"Albus knows why we need this room," Lupin said slyly.

"Oh Merlin's beard," Snape groaned. "You _did_ tell him. I thought you had. Oh my..." Snape flushed so completely, his face was burning.

"It is rather relevant ... to my predicament Severus. I can't afford to be shy," Lupin said frankly. Snape stared at him. _Self-absorbed idiot,_ he thought, wanting to hex himself.

"I'm sorry, Remus. I didn't even think. But I can't pretend that I'm comfortable with this. Poppy doesn't know, though, surely," he said, his eyes widening again.

"Of course not, Severus," Lupin smiled more broadly. "You are a revelation when you are embarrassed. ... It's really very attractive. Did you never sneak around to ... have sex somewhere you shouldn't? It's quite exciting."

"One more missed joy, I'm sure," Snape scowled. "All right, I give in." His hands flew up in mock resignation. He cast privacy wards on the small room and removed his clothes, and transfigured his shirt and trousers into cotton pyjama trousers and a tee shirt for later.

"Poppy really does worry you, doesn't she," Lupin chuckled.

"You have no idea," Snape smirked.

He helped Lupin to move slightly to one side and then slipped into the small bed beside him, his whole body flooding with relief, pleasure but also desire.

He gently pulled Remus into his arms and kissed him as lightly as possible, feeling the small tremors in his body.

"Are you sure Remus?" Snape asked, worried by the tremors.

"I'm certain, Severus," Lupin said, returning the gentle kisses. "It will strengthen me."

Lupin turned and pushed his back to Snape's chest. Snape had never been so gentle with another human being as he was then with Lupin. He chanted to Lupin, and his touch was the lightest he could muster. The Thrall responded, and the vortex took the men more or less as soon as Snape had entered Lupin exquisitely tight muscles. It calmed them, soothed them and healed them in their ecstasy. When the vortex ebbed, Snape noted with happiness that Lupin's tremors had ceased and his breathing became easier. He donned his sleep wear and took the wards from the room and replaced his arms around Lupin's chest, tucking his legs behind Lupin's and just started to feel himself drift off when he heard two sets of footsteps walking down the main ward.

The door to the little side ward opened and Snape heard Poppy say quietly, "They're both sleeping. Taking Wolfsbane notes, indeed! Ha! Everybody thinks they can hoodwink me." Poppy snorted. "Look Albus, they're just like kittens in a basket." Then the door closed quietly.

"Did you hear that, Remus? Kittens in blasted basket!" Snape whispered, outraged. Lupin chuckled deeply.

"I need to hex her," Snape growled.

"No Severus, you don't," Lupin said firmly. Still chuckling, Lupin pulled Snape's arm closer, squeezing it gently, and then fell quickly to sleep. _Forgiven_ , thought Snape, in wonder.

 


	15. Map-Reading

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains some violence.
> 
> This chapter does have the reveal of the map quoted from Chapter 14 and altered because why pretend I can write it better than Jo Rowling? It is only a small part of this chapter though.
> 
> Direct quotes from PoA are in bold and © J.K. Rowling

Lupin had been allowed out of the hospital wing the next day, a speedier recovery than usual undoubtedly due to the Thrall. It was Snape's turn to be absurdly attentive, his own guilt weighing very heavily on his mind. Lupin slept with Snape each night and, as before, they renewed the Thrall each morning. Being the waning of the moon and as Lupin was somewhat weakened in those first few days, their morning exertions were enough. The next weekend came around soon enough.

Since Black's successful incursion into Gryffindor Tower, the staff now patrolled regularly during the weekends. Lupin was excused this weekend. Snape had finished the fourth floor and was making his way through the third floor corridor when he came across Potter and Longbottom, the other third years having gone to Hogsmeade. He noted, with some concern, that Potter was by the same statue of the one-eyed witch at which he had discovered Lupin calling for Black. This was suspicious. He chivvied the children away and then ran his hands over the head of the witch wondering if it contained a secret passageway. Finding nothing, he made his way back to his office to do some marking.

It wasn't until later in the day that he had a visit from Draco Malfoy who regaled him with a story of his being attacked by an invisible being throwing mud, which later revealed itself have Harry Potter's head. Snape thanked Malfoy for the information and sent him on his way.

 _So,_ he thought, _the boy's acquired an invisibility cloak. Stupid, arrogant idiot. Never mind all the trouble that the staff go to to protect him; that he himself has vowed to protect him; Harry Potter has to go to Hogsmeade._ Well, Severus Snape was not a stupid man, no indeed. He had a fairly astute idea where Mr. Potter might be heading for now, and he intended to catch him at it. He set out for the third floor.

As he arrived, he heard something from the direction of that statue. He picked up the pace and walked swiftly towards it and ... _well, well, Harry Potter_. He did his best to suppress his triumph at catching the brat out and ordered him to his office.

The boy followed to his office, and Snape saw him trying to clean his muddy hands on his robes surreptitiously until they reached Snape's office.

" **Mr Malfoy has just been to see me with a strange story, Potter," said Snape.**

The boy did not respond.

" **He tells me that he was up by the Shrieking Shack when he ran into Weasley — apparently alone."** Still, the boy said nothing.

" **Mr Malfoy states that he was standing talking to Weasley, when a large amount of mud hit him in the back of the head. How do you think that could have happened?"**

The boy made a ridiculous face that was supposed to approximate surprise and had the nerve to say, " **I don't know, Professor."**

The boy looked at him unstintingly. _Just like his father._

" **Mr Malfoy then saw an extraordinary apparition. Can you imagine what it might have been, Potter? It was your head, Potter. Floating in mid-air."**

**There was a long silence.**

" **Maybe he'd better go to Madam Pomfrey," said** the boy **. "If he's seeing things like —"**

" **What would your head have been doing in Hogsmeade, Potter?" said Snape softly.** " **Your head is not allowed in Hogsmeade. No part of your body has permission to be in Hogsmeade."**

" **I know that," said** the boy **. "It sounds like Malfoy's having hallucin —"**

" **Malfoy is not having hallucinations," snarled Snape, and he bent down, a hand on each arm of Harry's chair, so that their faces were a foot apart.**

" **If your head was in Hogsmeade, so was the rest of you."**

Of course, the boy either denied it or said nothing.

" **So," he said, straightening up again.** " **Everyone from the Minister of Magic downward has been trying to keep famous Harry Potter safe from Sirius Black. But famous Harry Potter is a law unto himself. Let the ordinary people worry about his safety! Famous Harry Potter goes where he wants to, with no thought for the consequences."**

The brat still said nothing, no remorse for putting everyone to the trouble of looking after him, when he couldn't be bothered to look after himself. He didn't know why he was even surprised, given his lineage.

" **How extraordinarily like your father you are, Potter," Snape said suddenly, his eyes glinting. "He too was exceedingly arrogant. A small amount of talent on the Quidditch field made him think he was a cut above the rest of us too. Strutting around the place with his friends and admirers… The resemblance between you is uncanny."**

" **My dad didn't _strut_ ," **the boy whined **. "And nor do I."**

" **Your father didn't set much store by rules either," Snape went on. "Rules were for lesser mortals, not Quidditch Cup-winners. His head was so swollen —"**

" **SHUT UP!"** the brat had the temerity to shout, jumping to his feet.

Snape went rigid and his eyes flashed.

" ** _What did you say to me, Potter?_ " **

" **I told you to shut up about my dad!"** he **yelled. "I know the truth, all right? He saved your life! Dumbledore told me! You wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for my dad!"**

 _Well, that really is the limit!_ Snape thought. _What was Dumbledore thinking telling this brat about that? Did he have no respect for me at all?_

" **And did the headmaster tell you the circumstances in which your father saved my life?" he whispered. "Or did he consider the details too unpleasant for precious Potter's delicate ears?"**

_Of course not, look at Potter biting his lip. He has no idea._

" **I would hate for you to run away with a false idea of your father, Potter," he said,** smiling. **"Have you been imagining some act of glorious heroism? Then let me correct you — your saintly father and his friends played a highly amusing joke on me that would have resulted in my death if your father hadn't got cold feet at the last moment. There was nothing brave about what he did. He was saving his own skin as much as mine. Had their joke succeeded, he would have been expelled from Hogwarts."**

" **Turn out your pockets, Potter!" he spat suddenly.**

The boy didn't comply.

" **Turn out your pockets, or we go straight to the headmaster! Pull them out, Potter!"**

The boy pulled out a bag of Zonko's tricks, which Snape picked up, and a piece of parchment **.**

" **Ron gave them to me,"** the boy lied. **"He brought them back from Hogsmeade last time —"**

" **Indeed? And you've been carrying them around ever since? How very touching… and what is this?"** Snape picked up the parchment.

" **Spare bit of parchment," he said with a shrug.**

 **Snape turned it over, his eyes on** the boy, knowing a lie when he heard one **.**

" **Surely you don't need such a very _old_ piece of parchment?" he said. "Why don't I just — throw this away?" **

**His hand moved toward the fire.**

" **No!"**

" **So!" said Snape, his long nostrils quivering.** " **Is this another treasured gift from Mr Weasley? Or is it — something else? A letter, perhaps, written in invisible ink? Or — instructions to get into Hogsmeade without passing the Dementors?"**

The boy blinked. _I have him!_

" **Let me see, let me see…" he muttered, taking out his wand and smoothing the map out on his desk. "Reveal your secret!" he said, touching the wand to the parchment.**

 **Nothing happened.** He saw the boy's hands clench.

" **Show yourself!" Snape said, tapping the map sharply. It stayed blank.**

" **Professor Severus Snape, master of this school, commands you to yield the information you conceal!" Snape said, hitting the map with his wand.**

**As though an invisible hand were writing upon it, words appeared on the smooth surface of the map.**

" ** _Mr Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business."_**

 **Snape froze.** He knew damn well who Moony was. Is this what Lupin thought of him? His stomach churned with growing misery.

" ** _Mr Prongs agrees with Mr Moony and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git."_**

" ** _Mr Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a professor."_**

And finally...

" ** _Mr Wormtail bids Professor Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slime ball."_**

" **So…" said Snape softly. "We'll see about this…"**

 **He strode across to his fire.** " **Lupin!" Snape called into the fire. "I want a word!"**

**Seconds later, Lupin was clambering out of the fireplace, brushing ash off his robes.**

" **You called, Severus?" said Lupin mildly.**

" **I certainly did," said Snape, his face contorted with fury as he strode back to his desk.**

**"I have just asked Potter to empty his pockets. He was carrying this."**

**Snape pointed at the parchment, on which the words of Messrs' Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs were still shining.**

**An odd, closed expression appeared on Lupin's face.** _Well now, what will you say, Remus. I know full well who these four are. What will you say?_ Snape was furious.

" **Well?" said Snape.**

 **Lupin continued to stare at the** parchment **.**

" ** _Well_?" said Snape again. ** He wasn't going to let Lupin get away with saying nothing or deny the parchment's provenance. **"This parchment is plainly full of Dark Magic. This is supposed to be your area of expertise, Lupin. Where do you imagine Potter got such a thing?"**

 **Lupin looked up and** Snape was convinced some signal passed between Lupin and the boy.

" **Full of Dark Magic?" he repeated mildly. "Do you really think so, Severus? It looks to me as though it is merely a piece of parchment that insults anybody who reads it. Childish, but surely not dangerous? I imagine Harry got it from a joke shop —"**

" **Indeed?" said Snape. His jaw had gone rigid with anger.**

" **You think a joke shop could supply him with such a thing? You don't think it more likely that he got it _directly from the manufacturers_?" **

Lupin pretended not to understand and said, " **You mean, by Mr Wormtail or one of these people?" he said. "Harry, do you know any of these men?"**

The boy denied it, of course.

" **You see, Severus?" said Lupin, turning back to Snape. "It looks like a Zonko's product to me —"**

At this point, Weasley came bursting into the office and confirmed Potter's story.

" **Well!" said Lupin, clapping his hands together and looking around cheerfully. "That seems to clear that up! Severus, I'll take this back, shall I?" He folded the** parchment **and tucked it inside his robes. "Harry, Ron, come with me, I need a word about my vampire essay — excuse us, Severus —"**

The three of them left Snape's office, leaving Snape floundering in his fury at Lupin's lies and insults. So there is an enchanted parchment cast by the Marauders – well, there was no surprise who had given Potter that and probably the invisibility cloak as well.

Snape slammed his own fist onto his desk. How the hell was he ever supposed to have a chance of keeping that brat safe if he, his friends and his cursed father's school friend conspired to place him in danger?

Why had he ever agreed to this stupid vow for the benefit of a child he loathed and who loathed him equally. Especially when all it did was to rekindle such painful memories for him? He owed it to Lily, but it was so painful.

Why the hell had he ever trusted Lupin in the first place? He would always be a Marauder. He would always put Potter first, just as he had just now. And he would lie right to Snape's face, even if that face were in his own bed! How had he been so blind and so stupid! He felt so wretched.

His fire flared green and Lupin stepped through the Floo back into Snape's office, holding the parchment in his hand, looking anxiously at Snape.

Snape was gripping the back of his chair, his knuckles white, his mouth a thin line and his jaw clenched as he stared angrily at Lupin, his temper already spiralling out of control.

"That is what you think of me?" he said, dangerously, pointing to the parchment. "An ugly, greasy idiot?" he hissed.

Lupin moved over to him slowly, placed the parchment on Snape's desk and placed his hands over Snape's clenched hands. "No, Severus. It is not," he said firmly. "All you read here are just echoes of four teenage boys, juvenile and careless."

Snape shook Lupin's hands off as if they had burnt him. "Let's not dress up what you all were. Callous and cruel. Four boys who considered each and every other student a butt for their own cruelty," he spat, his eyes glittering with renewed humiliation.

"No Severus," Lupin repeated firmly, moving towards him again, this time keeping his hands to his sides. "I did not. I never did that. I played jokes – I pranked. Transfigured people's hair; their clothers; their food, anything that was funny. I was never cruel to you." His voice was calm, his gaze never left Snape's, as if trying to pacify a wounded animal.

"You allowed it to happen. I was so beneath your consideration, even as a prefect you allowed your friends to bully me in front of the whole school. You can't deny it!" Snape's voice was rising.

"Where is this coming from Severus? I thought we understood each other better. I thought we'd moved on." Lupin said, almost inaudibly, to make Snape try to listen.

Snape strode forward and pushed both hands against Lupin's chest hard, surprising him and he moved back a step.

"Coming from?" Snape punched his own chest once. "In here. It's never left!" He was nose to nose with Lupin now. "You think I don't remember your nicknames at school Moony? Where did that blasted parchment come from? How did Potter get it! Did you give to him? Did you have a good laugh at my expense, Lupin? You even have to humiliate me in front of Potter's son!" Snape yelled.

Lupin's brow furrowed. "No, Severus!" Lupin cried. "How could ... why would you even think it? I've no idea how Harry got our old parchment, but that's of no matter. Why would I laugh with a child about you? Why would I humiliate you?" Snape was breathing hard, his eyes wide and wild. Lupin reached out his hands again, but firmly this time and grabbed Snape's wrists. "Listen to me," he pleaded.

Snape struggled against Lupin's grasp, but he was not strong enough to break it which enraged him even more. Lupin suddenly let go with a gasp as Snape sent a wordless stinging hex to his hands and Lupin backed away. Snape whirled away from him, raking his hand through his hair, still breathing heavily.

"Do you remember that day by the lake in the fifth year?" Snape spat, riding his own anger and righteous rage now.

"Yes, I remember," Lupin whispered, distress visible on his features.

"And would you consider that was a prank?" Snape spun around, advancing on Lupin. "A jape?" Another stride. "A jest?" He was back, nose to nose with Lupin, who calmly faced him, still rubbing his stung hands against each other reflexively.

"No, I didn't. It was the worst James and Sirius ever were with you."

"Had nothing to say about it at the time though did you?" Snape's eyes narrowed spitefully. "Did you enjoy your friends humiliating me in front of all those people?" His voice rose again. "Shaming me that way?" His voice choked and he backed away one step and looked around the floor, unable to say what he wanted to say about Lily. "Every reminder of those ... _friends_ ... of yours brings that recollection back to me. I hear the laughter in my dreams. I feel the shame still."

His voice became quiet and deadly. "How different were they really to Malfoy and Lestrange? They stripped me, Lupin, and laughed, your friends did that, in front of all those people." He spread his hand expansively. "And when they'd done with me; when they'd had their laugh at my very personal expense, I was left to face those sneers on my own, _collecting my clothes_ ," he sneered in Lupin's face, emphasising that final phrase and its inherent shamefulness.

He heard a small moan. He looked into Lupin's eyes, and saw the shining of unshed tears in them. He usually adored those eyes, but right now he hated them. Hated the pity in them; the pity for the humiliation that he had been part of, even passively, and that felt as raw as ever and still his rage was boiling.

"Have you any idea what it's like to be humiliated like that Lupin?" Snape voice became quiet and deadly again, as he pushed at Lupin's chest again, bunching his robes in his fists, pushing him backwards.

Then he shoved Lupin harshly so that he almost lost his balance as he said, "Deliberately," and then, snarling "Maliciously," he punched Lupin in the mouth.

Reflexively, Lupin backhanded his fist to Snape's face, sending him flat to the floor, and then lurched a couple of steps backwards and slumped on the edge of Snape's desk holding his palm to his bloody mouth as he cast a shield charm between them, looking completely shocked.

Snape staggered up from the floor, rubbing his cheek-bone, breathing sharply and then bent over, leaning his hands against his knees whilst he caught his breath. He was starting to feel calmer now that he had lashed out. With the coming calm came the slow realisation of what he had just done to the man he cared for. He fleetingly blessed Dumbledore for having bound the Thrall. He dreaded to think what he would be facing now otherwise. He carried on breathing deeply, hands still bracing his knees. Then he heard Lupin speak again.

"You must stop this Severus. I will not fight with you. There is too much violence in my life for this," Lupin ground out through clenched and bloodied teeth. Then his hands fell loosely at his side and his shoulders drooped as he sighed heavily.

"I won't trade blows with you. I won't swap insults with you. I won't even trade humiliation stories with you. I _am_ a werewolf after all Severus. I've had plenty of proverbial pitchforks chase me away, ever since I was a child. Don't preach to me about humiliation and then seek to humiliate me." His voice fell and he ran his hand through his hair again. "I chose not to live in those memories precisely because they hurt so much. I put them away from me. I - do - not - want – them," he said very deliberately. "Why do you seek to revive yours?" he sounded defeated and Snape saw a tear roll down Lupin's cheek and started to feel the familiar crawl of shame on his flesh. He always ignored to his own peril the fact that Remus Lupin's life was imbued with its own continuing tragedy, of pain and social ostracism. Perhaps there was no better person to see the tragedy in his own life. He stood gazing at the man, who spoke again.

"I'd apologise to you until the day I die if it would help but it won't. I've told you why I didn't stick up for you. I know I should have. I was weak. You accuse me of it and you are right. I still can't change that day by the lake or any other day James and Sirius picked on you." Lupin brushed that lone tear away, and held Snape's gaze again.

"But I would never allow anyone or anything to hurt you now. I'm no longer that weak boy who was so afraid of losing his friends that I wouldn't stand up to them in front of others. I wouldn't joke with Harry or with anyone else about you. You are so very dear to me now, Severus. Please. Listen to me." He looked candidly at Snape, although his voice had the edge of pleading to it.

Snape stood straight. "Take it down, Remus," he said evenly indicating the shield charm. Lupin did so and Snape went to Lupin wearily. He Summoned the dittany and went to dab it on Lupin's split lip. Lupin flinched, moving his hand up between himself and Snape, and Snape stopped mid-action, appalled. "Please let me heal it," he said softly. Lupin's hand dropped and Snape tended the cut. "I'm sorry I hit you," he muttered. "I was out of control." Lupin nodded.

Snape put the dittany down on his desk then moved one step back and hung his head. "I shouldn't have brought up those incidents. I couldn't help it. They rush back at me ... I ... I ... get so angry," Snape murmured and reached one hand out tentatively to touch Lupin's hand. Lupin caught it and held it and reassured him with a small, sad smile.

"But how can I believe you? That was your voice on that parchment. Sealed in for nearly twenty years – what you really think of me," Snape sounded defeated. "and my abnormally large nose .." Snape flushed.

Lupin pulled Snape to him, and placed his chin on Snape's head. "Only old echoes, Severus. None of those boys exists anymore." Snape heard a suppressed choke in Lupin's voice and then it took on a soothing tone. "It is just a charm we cast to insult any reader of the parchment. It would insult anyone, Severus. Anyone at all – Minerva, Filius, Albus, Filch. No-one would be respected if they didn't have the charmed words to read it. Imagine what it would say about Albus's nose! Or Filch, for heaven's sake. Just a juvenile embellishment charm, I promise you. It isn't what I think of you. You _know_ it isn't, Severus. You've _seen_."

Snape held himself stiff and unyielding against Lupin, his mind swimming. Lupin held him in his arms, and stroked his hair despite Snape's refusal to yield to him.

"How is it you can still wound me?" Snape asked in a hollow whisper.

"How can you still _be_ wounded?" Lupin asked, pushing Snape gently away so he could look into Snape's eyes. "You, whose bed I share every night. How can you believe I think you ugly when I never take my eyes from you when I take you? How else can I show you, Severus?"

"But it still hurts me. All these things that remind me how unhappy I was and make me unhappy again. Seeing that," he pointed to the parchment, "and seeing Potter with you, I can hear Potter's father and Black, tormenting me. It all comes back, as fresh as if it were yesterday. I just can't deal with those memories well." His stance softened in Lupin's arms.

"I can't take it back, Severus. I can only move it forward. Please don't hate me." He cupped Snape's face in his hands. "Love me instead."

"I want to," Snape gasped. He looked into those blue eyes he so admired and Lupin picked up the parchment and turned to go through the Floo back to Snape's quarters and Snape followed him through.

As he came through, Lupin warded the fireplace, placed the parchment on Snape's table and pulled Snape through to the bedroom. They undressed themselves silently, never taking their eyes off each other and fell onto the bed kissing fervently. Lupin suddenly straddled Snape and looked at him.

"I will tell you what I see, Severus," he said, his eyes dilated and heavy with lust. "You are slim and perfectly proportioned for me. Beautiful slim waist." He stroked his hands up and down Snape's sides, in the way that made Snape's back arch with pleasure. He then held and fingered Snape's hands. "You have exquisite hands, slender fingers, capable and talented." He picked up one hand and put the fingers into his mouth, brushing his tongue over them. "These fingers that have touched me as no-one else has ever touched me." Snape blood pounded harder through him with desire as Lupin said this.

He moved back to cup Snape's face in his hands. "You have the darkest, most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. I could drown in your eyes when we make love, Severus." Lupin leant forward to kiss each eyelid. "You have a beautiful mouth, which is also," he smiled impishly, "very talented. I love the feel of your hair, and the darkness of it against your beautiful skin. And this nose," he stroked Snape's nose from bridge to tip, "is a handsome nose, a man's nose." He moved his face down Snape's neck to suck at his adam's apple and whispered breathily, "I love to feel it pressing against me here." Lupin pressed just above Snape's pubic bone, making him gasp picturing himself sucking Lupin's cock as his own nose would press there. "It excites me even more. And here." He pressed against Snape's neck and clavicle. Then he kissed Snape's nose. "I love your nose, Severus. You are my handsome man."

"I have a mirror you know," he croaked, trying to be dismissive, although all he could feel at the moment was a deep hot desire.

"You do not see yourself though my eyes," Lupin said simply, kissing Snape again.

"You are in my Thrall," Snape said, as if that might be determinative of the issue, even though he was fast becoming breathless as Lupin carried on kissing him.

"Your object doesn't need to find you attractive; it just needs to obey you. Give up, Severus. I have you over a barrel." Lupin smiled. "Or at least, I'd like to." Lupin's hands were slowly moving downwards over his chest and stomach.

A low moan escaped Snape's throat and Lupin palmed Snape's erection whilst his other hand moved underneath to stroke around his perineum, spreading his legs wide and then working him with his fingers to make him groan, pacing them in and out harder and faster until Snape's breath was ragged and he was sweating and grasping at the bed covers next to him.

"Ask me, Severus," Lupin breathed to him. "Ask me for it."

"Please, Remus, fuck me, just do it," he growled, grasping Lupin's butt hard. At this time, as overwrought as he was emotionally, he didn't think he had ever wanted to be shafted hard so much in his life and he was pretty sure Lupin was feeling the same. Lupin's pupils were dilated and his chest red and he reeked of sex at that instant. Snape knew and was thrilled by the knowledge that Lupin intended to take him hard. Lupin lined himself up and slid in with one long, deep push, Snape was so ready for him. Lupin gasped loudly at the feel of Snape, so hot and slick, canted Snape's hips higher and pulled one of Snape's thighs over his arm and placed the other around his waist to allow him deeper still.

He plunged in, and Snape cried out, it was deep enough to hit his prostrate first time, and then Lupin plunged again, each time leaving a little too much time between each thrust so that Snape would beg him to thrust again and again. His head was just muzzy with hot, all-consuming passion. All he wanted was Lupin plunging into him, making those waves of raw nerve-shredding bliss rush over him every time he entered him, and Snape was more than happy to beg for it. Lupin plunged as hard and as deep as he could, his fingers buried into Snape's hips to anchor them for more friction as Snape cried out for more. He was building towards his orgasm now, and it was intense and hot and felt so much larger than his own body, even though his cock was untouched, too hard and leaked but his body's nerve endings were too stretched by incredible sensations to be denied.

He cried out to Remus to give him more and Lupin thrust into him as fast and hard as Snape could ever remember, and harder than his hips would allow. Lupin was almost growling, "Severus. You are mine." Harder and harder, until his orgasm could be held onto no longer and broke out of him and crashed over him, colours bursting and blossoming out behind his tightly shut eyes, and he almost screamed Remus's name as Lupin cried out his. The thrusting slowed and slowed some more, as Lupin gradually lowered Snape back to the bed, his own legs trembling and moved onto his body to try to catch their breath and then to kiss as soon as they could breath more easily.

He kissed Snape, his tongue searching deeply and then broke the kiss to repeat into Snape's mouth, "You are mine." Snape lay under Lupin, his throat and chest constricted, not believing his ears. Yes, that was what he wanted, he thought as they both drifted into a sated sleep.

He awoke a couple of hours later to Lupin sitting on the edge of the bed, stroking Snape's hair from his face. He'd got some tea and was pouring it for them. Lupin looked dishevelled and a little grubby from their demanding sex. Snape rather liked it as a reminder. He ached very profoundly and found he liked that too. That deep ache made him feel as owned as Lupin had told him he was. He wanted Lupin to own him. It made him content in a way that was new and exciting.

Lupin smiled broadly at him and kissed him. "I'm thirsty, not surprisingly I suppose," he said. "Do you want some?" Snape nodded and went to sit up, before realising that his hips were more sore than he could possibly imagine. He liked that too. Lupin noticed his discomfort and apologised.

"Not a bit of it," Snape smiled, although he blushed a little. "I am ... quite fulfilled."

Lupin smiled again and kissed Snape's nose. "'Quite' doesn't cover it, Severus." He nuzzled Snape's neck. "It was magnificent." A hot buzz ran through Snape's guts and made his throat dry. "But next time: perhaps no fist fight?" Lupin said, raising one eyebrow.

Lupin stood and put on his trousers. "Come Severus, I want to show you something," he said, holding out his hands to help a somewhat stiff Snape out of bed.

Snape got up and made to dress fully, when Lupin held his hand. "Don't be so buttoned up Severus. Not when it's just us," he admonished gently, taking the cravat and many-buttoned jacket out of Snape's hands. Snape put his trousers on, as Lupin had done and followed him into his own drawing room.

Lupin had the parchment spread on the table and had obviously already used the revealing charm as Snape watched in wonder as the whole castle and some of its grounds revealed themselves. It was layer upon layer of extraordinary magic. He traced some of the lines with his fingers and watched the labelled dots moving about the castle.

"You did this at school?" he said admiringly.

"We did; the four of us," Lupin said, watching Snape's reaction.

"But you did most of the charms, I think, I remember you were remarkable at charms," Snape said, feeling boastful about his lover. He sat in the chair, although it made him wince, to look at the map, whilst Lupin stood next to him. Snape draped his hand around Lupin's thigh proprietorially.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, most of the charms were my idea but we all worked on them and each of us had different things to do that played to our individual strengths ..." and off Lupin went, describing how the map was first conceived and all the different castings that had had to be layered into it and where each boy's speciality had played its part. Snape couldn't deny that it was marvellous magic and surprisingly found himself interested in the story of its execution. Here he was listening to Lupin telling stories about Potter, Black and Pettigrew and he didn't care, because he belonged to Lupin and they didn't matter to him now.

"I think it was a good idea you confiscated it from Potter," Snape said.

Lupin nodded. "We've already had Sirius break in using a list of passwords. Imagine if this fell into his hands." Lupin shook his head at the thought.

"Remus," Snape tilted his up to look at Lupin. "What ... um ... will that map show if you and I were to ..." he wiggled two of his fingers.

Lupin laughed and wiggled two of his fingers as well. "Now, I created a charm. It's quite simple but effective. This map does not lie about who is where and it cannot be fooled by invisibility cloaks or Polyjuice Potion," Lupin explained.

"Extraordinary," Snape whispered, looking at the map anew, and at his own drawing room which currently had two dots side by side with their names.

"The charm I created was just for the four of us. A discretion charm," he smiled at Snape, who started to smile back. "It was rather necessary at that time of life," he recalled fondly. "In fairness, it wasn't really necessary to know which girl or boy Sirius had in which broom closet at any one time. Well, frankly it would have been distracting!" Lupin laughed. "It would show the marauder and whoever but very ... very separate."

"So," Snape smirked, squeezing Lupin's thigh, "if I were to do this," and he undid the cord of Lupin's trousers, eliciting a gasp of surprise from him as he pushed them down and trailed his tongue on Lupin's cock which responded quickly. Lupin grasped Snape's head to him, utterly taken by surprise as Snape took Lupin's enlarging erection into his mouth hungrily and his tongue played in the slit in the top, making Lupin's breath hitch. Snape sucked on it and then moved his mouth up and down it, flicking his tongue and humming against it as he went, listening to Lupin groan in pleasure whilst raking his hands through Snape's hair.

He moved his hand around behind Lupin's back and traced in down between his cheeks, and then started to work one finger inside Lupin. The effect was electric. Lupin started and let out a startled cry of pleasure and his cock twitched in Snape's mouth. He added a second and, after a few more pulses, a third. Lupin was moaning his name more or less incessantly now. Keeping his fingers moving in and out, he slowly released Lupin's cock from his mouth and looked up at Lupin.

"I want to take you here, Remus, over this table," he breathed, his own cock straining painfully at his trousers.

"Merlin, yes, Severus," Lupin gasped as he shakily pushed the parchment and other papers off the desk, stepped out of the trousers that had pooled at his feet, and moved in front of it so that Snape could move behind him and then braced himself with his hands on the edge of the table. Snape removed his own trousers quickly, pleased he did not have his many-buttoned jacket, and quickly reinserted his fingers into Lupin. He didn't need any more preparation. He was deliciously hot and wet, but Snape just wanted to look remembering what Lupin had said earlier about his own hands and it made his own cock throb with pleasure.

He held one hip whilst he placed his cock against Lupin's opening and pushed in slowly and firmly, savouring every tight, hot inch of the man. He held both hips and began to roll his thrusts, steadily in and out and around, just to savour the feel and listen to Lupin's soft moans. He slowly built his thrusts, stroking Lupin's erection and trying to be as slow and deep as he could to drive Lupin crazy, listening to and delighting in Lupin's increasing groans until Lupin pleaded with him hoarsely. "Severus, please, deep as you can. I want you. I want you."

His own mind started to unravel to Lupin's pleas and he thrust harder and deeper, then hearing the responding cries that told him he had found what Lupin craved. He thrust there over and over, almost mesmerised by Lupin's cries of pleasure, becoming faster with each thrust, his own abused hips complaining with each fervent snap, which he ignored until, delighting in Lupin's increasing volume, he came fiercely and heard Lupin do the same. Having taken Lupin for the second time that day, their vortex took them both again at the point of their orgasms, whipping and binding their orgasms together in its amazing dance of ecstasy as Snape leant over Lupin's prone body. As it ebbed, Snape whispered to Lupin's ear, "You are mine," and heard "yes," in answer.

On the floor, the parchment showed the two dots at opposite ends of Snape's drawing room, but they didn't care to look.

 


	16. Compulsion

Since the day of their fight and the following rapprochement, Snape had become quite obsessed with Lupin. He found he could barely think of anything but him. It was just like the first days of the Thrall, except that he now welcomed all his thoughts of the man. The only way he could get through his classes and duties was to Occlude his mind to block out his obsession, but would lift it fully as soon as he was alone with the man. Lupin was his usual open and passionate self, and Snape indulged himself fully in every attention the man wanted to lavish on him. As tender and loving as Lupin could be, there was no doubt that since their fight, Lupin was exerting more sexual dominance over him than before. Snape surrendered himself to it utterly and found consolation and release in it.

Today, they had received an invitation to Dumbledore's office.

They met with Dumbledore in the ante room to his office. He had their copy workings, together with his own, and various runic and arithmantic charts spread out on a large table. He also had various books from his own restricted library. Snape would give a great deal to have access to that library. Snape noted some of those delicate silver instruments that were usually displayed in his office were spread out on the runic charts and had clearly been used for measurements. _A-ha,_ he thought, _I knew they were not trinkets._

Dumbledore was working towards unravelling the Thrall at the next new moon when Lupin would be strongest and which happily fell over the Easter holidays so there would be few children in the school.

The three men congregated around the table and Dumbledore explained some of his workings to them and then drew out a large parchment with his re-worked counter-enchantment. "I have put in some work on the counter-enchantment, particularly paying regard to the interwoven Cruciatus curse." Snape could see that "some work" was an understatement. Dumbledore had thoroughly revised their workings and the ritual. He wondered when the man had had the time.

"We have to be particularly careful when that is removed due to its interweaving. If we remove the Thrall without removing that curse at the correct time, it will be re-cast and we will not be able to stop it," Dumbledore continued in measured tones.

"So," Snape stared at Dumbledore, "Remus would be hit with the Cruciatus until..." he mumbled in horror, then staring at Lupin, who had drained of colour.

"Until it killed him, yes," Dumbledore nodded, his blue eyes sharp and hard. "It is a common feature of Dark magic to trick any practitioners of the Light into compounding the Darkness of the curse unwittingly. Once one is aware of their trickery, one is looking for the signature." Dumbledore turned back to the documents and pointed to one place in the ritual and then one place on the counter-enchantment. "The working here calls for something additional – I believe this is where the Cruciatus counter-enchantment needs to be worked. It is the natural place for it."

The horror Snape was feeling lurched as he realised what else might be worked into this curse.

"Albus, Remus," he said quietly, shamed to speak of what he was about to admit. "We know that Remus was the tool for this enchantment. We need to remember that you, Albus, were the target. Such an important target." He was struggling now, but needed to press on. "Thinking as a Death Easter, Albus, I suspect there will be more trickery worked in to attempt to ensnare you further, or even to maim or kill you."

Both Dumbledore and Lupin were looking at him expectantly.

"I created an enchantment for the Dark Lord many years ago, similar to the trickery you mention, but it is Dark magic of the highest order. I designed it so it couldn't be defeated by a Master Caster such as you working out where the counter-charm should be in the ritual. I designed it to be infallible and unbreakable because it is a blood ritual."

He heard Lupin's sharp intake of breath.

"What was the enchantment Severus?" Dumbledore's voice was quiet and cold.

"I called it the Insidiae," Snape looked at the wall opposite, too shamed to look at either of the other men.

Lupin translated, "The ambush? The trap?"

Snape nodded.

"And we would need the Master Caster's blood to remove it?" Dumbledore's voice was ominously low.

"At the minimum and, even then, that may not be enough," Snape muttered, his hand finding Lupin's and grasping it tightly.

"If I have the Caster's blood, it _will_ be enough, I assure you," Dumbledore said confidently, casting a quick look at Snape and Lupin's entwined hands. "But we need to know who it is, and all elements of this enchantment. I will not risk either of you because we do not have all the information.

"Severus, you need to see Mr. Malfoy, and obtain the information from him by whatever means are expedient," Dumbledore stated, and looked intently at a stricken Snape over his glasses.

* * *

Three days had passed since Snape had owled Malfoy to request a meeting to discuss school business privately. He had now received a response:

_My dearest Severus,_

_How delightful to receive your letter requesting a private meeting with me. It has been a long time since we've been alone together. I must confess to a frisson of pleasure to have your company to myself. Let us hope it will not just be business, dear heart._

_I suggest you call upon me at home this Friday evening at 7. We shall be quite alone, I assure you._

_Fondest always, Lucius._

Tonight was Friday night.

Lupin screwed up the expensive parchment in his fist and threw it on the fire.

"What is that?" he demanded of Snape, who was standing by the mantel of the fireplace, one elbow resting upon it. "Why would he speak to you like you're lovers? You're not lovers, are you?" he peered intently up at Snape from the chair facing him.

"No, I told you what we were. A man like Malfoy, who takes his pleasures if he can, suffers certain delusions that his attentions are wanted, desired even. I haven't let him touch me since he was at school. And yet, this is how he has always addressed me, as if I am in some way desirous of his attention. I can assure you I am not," Snape said calmly, although he could see Lupin was not satisfied.

Lupin stood and went to him and stood as close to Snape so no more than a hair's breadth divided them and braced his hands on the mantel on either side of Snape. The smell of him excited Snape immediately.

"Do you understand Severus that I have Claimed you now?" Lupin purred. Snape had realised the day after their fight that something very fundamental had changed between them. Practically all considerations had become secondary to him now: his head was full of thoughts of Lupin and his body longed for Lupin constantly. He didn't know if this was just lust, love or because Lupin had Claimed him or a coalescing of the three. All he knew was that he was Lupin's, body and soul, and that it was what he wanted.

"I understand," Snape said softly, resting his head against Lupin's shoulders and inhaling his scent deeply.

"You understand that if another man touches you, I will know and I will not be forgiving. To either of you," Lupin's voice sounded hoarse, but his head in turn rested on Snape's own and his arms embraced him firmly.

"No-one will touch me at my bidding," Snape said. He chuckled, "I don't think you have anything to worry about. There isn't exactly a gaggle of suitors beating a path to my door."

Lupin rubbed his head across Snape's own, squeezing his embrace harder so that Snape could feel that Lupin was again aroused. "Well, you're off to see one such suitor shortly, aren't you? You don't understand who you are, Severus. What type of man you are or the power you have."

"You are in my Thrall, Remus," Snape dismissed again, sighing as Lupin lifted his chin to kiss him deeply, his tongue searching his mouth and sucking at his tongue and lips. Snape felt Lupin use his wand to unbutton his robe.

"So many buttons, Severus. So buttoned up and so many layers. You must be unbuttoned and we must get through all your layers," Lupin breathed into his ear as he unwound Snape's cravat and pushed his robe to his feet and then brought him into the centre of the room between the chairs. They knelt down together, both becoming breathless as they undressed each other, Snape's hands slightly trembling with anticipation. Every sexual encounter they had seemed to thrill him more and he was sure he would soon lose his mind to it all.

Lupin knelt forward and kissed Snape passionately, whilst he placed his hands firmly on his waist, clasping his waist so that he gasped and arched and pushing them up his sides and chest as Snape traced Lupin's back with his fingers, letting them rove down Lupin's sensitive spine. Lupin moved Snape's head to one side and kissed and bit the length of his neck and shoulder line, drawing blood to the surface with each small sucking bite, making Snape moan, then moving to repeat the process to the other side of this neck and shoulder.

Then, moving his hands behind Snape, he lowered him to the floor gently and carried on kissing and biting down his chest and stomach until he reached Snape's erection, which he licked lengthways whilst running his fingers down its shaft simultaneously whilst the other hand stroked under his balls, then taking it in fully, moving to the time set by Snape's moans and fisting in his hair and delirious arching of his back.

He spread Snape's legs with his hands and lifted his hips high and then moved his tongue around his balls, flicking it along his perineum and, finally using his hands to part Snape's cheeks, licking around and then plunging into his opening over and over again, making Snape cry out between his ragged breaths, making his opening pucker, clench, slick and ready. It was an amazing feeling but now Snape needed Lupin to fill him. The more ready Lupin made him, the more desperate he became until he begged him to fill him up.

Lupin move his hands away along Snape's thighs to keep them wide and high and then moved himself forward and into Snape in one fluid thrust, making himself grunt loudly and then begin to thrust in time to Snape's vocal pleas and Snape's own bucking hips. Lupin moved in lower and Snape moved his torso forward and flung one arm around Lupin's neck so they could kiss passionately and furiously, their groans and sighs interspersing their hungry kisses, and Lupin fumbled for and then found Snape's cock to stroke him to time with their thrusts. They thrust and rolled against each other punishingly until they came together loudly, with each others' names upon their lips and gradually subsided to the floor, panting and spent, and lay quietly together.

Eventually, Snape knew he had to get ready. Lupin was reluctant to release him from his embrace.

"It is for us," Snape reminded him softly and got up and showered.

In the mirror, Snape surveyed his thoroughly bitten neck, shoulders and chest and smiled a small smile at Lupin who was watching him at the bathroom door. "Territory marking, Mr. Wolf?" he asked lightly. Lupin moved behind Snape and placed his arms around his waist and started kissing the bites lightly. "You are mine, Severus," he whispered. "I don't want you to go to that molester of children."

"I go as a man, not a child, Remus. I have no intention of having any kind of sex with Malfoy and I'm more than capable of defending myself if need be," Snape said gently, turning his face upwards into Lupin's. "We need this information – you and I."

"These are your best clothes," Lupin nodded to the pile of fresh clothes, as Snape picked up his dress shirt.

"Death Eaters always dress well. It's a pureblood mania," Snape said dismissively. Lupin looked disbelieving but said nothing.

Suddenly, Lupin stroked his hand down the length of the Dark Mark visible on Snape's naked arm. "I believe it's darker than when I first saw it" he commented.

Snape nodded, although he was surprised as he had never seen Lupin look directly at it. "Nothing dramatic, but I agree. When the Dark Lord disappeared that night, the Mark became only just discernible. For the last two years it has darkened just slightly. There's no squinting to see it now. It darkens." Snape swallowed audibly. He feared with all his being receiving that call again and what that would mean for his life, especially now, now that he had Lupin. He would need to discuss it with Dumbledore – sooner or later.

Snape continued dressing, Lupin watching him intently and unhappily, although Lupin tied and straightened his cravat from behind, helped him on with his robe and brushed the shoulders straight, watching the effect in the mirror.

"Do you get angry with Malfoy about past injustices as you get angry with me? Do you want strike him as you struck me?" he asked suddenly. Snape was astonished. Of course, he should have seen this. How this must look to Lupin after the torrent of bitterness to which he'd subjected Lupin for his inaction and carelessness compared with Malfoy's calculated viciousness and cruelty.

"I don't care about Malfoy to get angry with him. I care about you so you are able to wound me, even unwittingly," he shut his eyes at this admission hoping Lupin understood the cost of it. He opened his eyes and looked at Lupin in the mirror, and knew he understood. "I know exactly what Lucius Malfoy is. He can't hurt me as you could." Snape turned to Lupin and kissed his lips gently and stroked his cheek. Then he turned back to the mirror to comb his hair for the final time.

"What he did to me in the past, he has paid for more times than he realises with things I have done to him. From my first refusal when we duelled over it, which of course I won, to small tortures I've inflicted on him, disgraces at the feet of the Dark Lord, insults, so on, some of which he has been just too stupid to understand," Snape smirked at Lupin. "I'm not the pushover he thinks I am."

"I have no doubt, Severus," Lupin said quietly into Snape's ear as he kissed it gently. "When you go to meet that child molester, you carry me inside you, don't you forget that," Lupin murmured into his ear as he passed Snape his travelling cloak.

* * *

Malfoy Manor: as vulgar as it was imposing, Snape strode through the gates, impervious to the displayed grandeur and the white peacocks screeching their call. He had seen it all before and it was as perfectly pompous as it current incumbent. He marched to the great hall to meet with Malfoy at the appointed time.

Malfoy was lounging in his high backed Chesterfield before the grand fireplace, robed in black velvet with silver cording as usual to set off his coiffed platinum hair that was tied back in a black velvet ribbon, his right hand resting on his silver serpent topped cane that contained his concealed wand. _A ridiculous affectation that would only slow one down in an emergency_. Snape wondered if the man had any idea how perfectly preening and vain he looked. _Then again, he is preening and vain_ , he thought with a mental shrug. Undoubtedly, Lucius Malfoy was the most conceited man of his acquaintance. He was also indulged, entitled, malicious and cruel and Snape did not, for one moment, underestimate this man in his own home. He needed to play this game perfectly if he was to triumph in the man's own manor.

Snape divested himself of his travelling cloak, which he threw over a chair. He wore his best woollen trousers and robe and silk shirt and cravat for this meeting. Malfoy needed to believe that Snape wanted to impress him, that Snape desired his attentions, so that Malfoy would let down his guard. Snape knew that nothing could get past Malfoy's guard more quickly than the prospect of a sexual conquest.

"Severus," Malfoy said, in his false hail-fellow-well-met voice, so well honed at the Ministry. "Do come in and take a seat." He gestured to the other Chesterfield that was opposite to his. "A drink for you?" Malfoy offered, unashamedly openly appraising every inch of Snape's body.

Snape smiled tightly, nodded and sat, for all the world looking relaxed, composed and comfortable. He crossed his legs at the ankles, resting his elbows on the raised leather arm rests, and steepled his hands. This was his controlled Death Eater persona, the only side of Severus Snape that Malfoy had seen for many years. This persona kept his wand in a holster up his sleeve for ease and speed of access.

They conversed about Cissy's latest charity project and what was currently interesting Malfoy at the Ministry, his increasing influence on the board of governors of Hogwarts, moving on to Draco's school performance and the impending execution of the Hippogriff that had attacked Draco.

"You should be married, Severus," Malfoy said in an offhand manner, out of the blue. "A man should always have a wife and children for the look of the thing. It doesn't stop one having ... shall we say ... other interests, if that's your concern," Malfoy smiled, looking at Snape's body appreciatively once more and for longer than was necessary for Snape to get the point. Snape's flesh crawled, but he gave Malfoy a small smile to keep him interested.

"I'm sure Cissy could find you a decent pureblood. Might have to be down on her luck, but it would bolster your bloodline. We owe it to the wizarding world after all to ensure we keep as much purity and power as possible. Hmm? What do you say?" he asked lightly.

"I have no interest in a wife and certainly not in children," Snape said in a final tone of voice that made Malfoy chuckle.

"Would be dishonest to the little lady, eh Severus? How very _bourgeois_ of you." Malfoy sneered.

Snape would have married Lily like a shot. Indeed, when he was young, he used to day dream about it. No doubt, she would have lived to rue the day she had ever set eyes on Severus Snape. Imagine if his anger had exploded on her the way it had on Lupin. Imagine raising his fists to that delicate creature or any child she bore of his as his father had done to his mother and to him. How eventually he would have broken her wonderful spirit. He had no doubt he would have done it. He was his father's child, as intemperate and violent as that man had been, and he revolted himself. He was lucky to have Lupin to contain and restrain him physically and emotionally, he suddenly thought to himself.

Malfoy's expression had changed to one almost like hunger. "I was intrigued to receive your owl, Severus." Malfoy raised one pampered eye brow.

"Are we private Lucius? What I have to say is not for the ears of your wife or the house elves," Snape asked confidentially.

Malfoy smirked unpleasantly. "I'm sure it isn't and after our little chat, I may desire more time alone with you as well. It has certainly been a long time since I enjoyed the pleasure." He smiled in a way that Snape found nothing short of odious which no doubt Malfoy thought charming. "Cissy is out and I'll ward against the help." Lucius cast various warding charms. "I very rarely think about them frankly. They are bonded to me, after all," he said dismissively.

 _Which is precisely why I don't wish them to come to your aid, you pompous fool,_ Snape thought with derision.

"Now then, Severus, trouble at the school?" he chuckled, knowingly, and with a look of keen anticipation.

"Not so much trouble, as possibly a little problematic for people with ... ah ... let's say ... our chequered history," Snape said easily, his head tilted to one side.

"Not sure I follow you, old chap," Malfoy smirked. "After all, I was exonerated of all wrong-doing. I was under the Imperius curse, as you know, Severus," he smiled a smile that did not reach his glacial eyes.

"Yes indeed. But should some, say," Snape made a small dismissive gesture, "new evidence come to light, evidence of a ... let's see ... compelling nature, matters might be re-opened, I think. Many matters," Snape replied silkily, tapping his index finger briefly to his own temple.

"Go on," Malfoy said coolly, his eyes narrowing.

Without changing his relaxed posture, Snape sipped his brandy, savouring the flavour as well as Malfoy's impatient anticipation.

"It has come to my attention that an enchantment of a Dark nature has been cast upon the Headmaster and one of the professors, and that you are one of the perpetrators of it." He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows as if daring Malfoy to deny it, and received a sneer in return. "I require details of it to remove it," he stated simply.

"You require details of it to remove it," Malfoy mocked. "You require! No, no, my dear Severus, you never require anything from me, my little half blood friend. You _require_ nothing," Malfoy clipped.

"On the contrary," Snape drawled. "You will find we have a shared interest in relieving this enchantment from the Headmaster and his ... ah ... _object_ , I believe the term is," dropping in the term so Malfoy would understand that Snape comprehended the nature of the enchantment. "For you see, if the Headmaster is forced to leave Hogwarts under the shadow of a Dark bond enchantment, I lose my protector. I have no doubt, that a trial would follow for me and I would, of course, give them any and all information they require to ameliorate any sentence passed on me. I will, of course, supply them with evidence under Veritaserum and will happily comply with any requests for memories for the Pensieve as may be required.

"Why, you foul little half-blood traitor. How dare you threaten me?" Malfoy stood, regarding Snape as if he were a mountain troll sitting in his hall. He took the two steps to Snape's chair, leaving his cane behind, and rested his hands on the arm rests and leant in, his lip curling in disdain, unaware that this was precisely the unguarded and foolish reaction Snape had planned on.

"You may have ingratiated yourself to the Dark Lord in times past, but you will always be a filthy little half blood, fit only for stabling as far as I'm concerned," he sneered, squeezing Snape's thigh and moving is hand to cup his genitals roughly and then moving in to bite his ear.

As he bit, Snape's wand pressed into Malfoy's neck and sparked.

"Do. Not. Touch. What. Isn't. Yours," Snape snarled, the proximity of the man's breath an affront in his personal space.

"Oh, but it used to be mine whenever I wanted it, didn't it, my little half blood?" Malfoy hissed through gritted teeth, not releasing his grip, refusing to allow Snape any victory even if he himself was wandless. He was determined to make sure Snape knew his place. "Such a sweet little arse. How I used to enjoy you. Broke you in, did I not?" he said lightly, as if talking of training a puppy. "Such a shame you got above yourself ..."

Snape's moment had come, the man was entirely distracted so he silently cast Langlock and then froze him. _The man simply had no idea of his own inadequacy_ , _magical or sexual,_ Snape thought with amusement as he worked.

He smirked to think that Malfoy would pay good money (and probably did quite regularly) to a man to give him what Snape so enthusiastically gave to Lupin. He allowed himself a further small smile thinking how Lupin would not believe how calm Snape could be when his work required it. But then, this is what he excelled at: spying, subterfuge and sabotage - he had always been able to deliver. It was so easy when it didn't concern someone he cared for. And he certainly did _not_ care for Malfoy.

Whilst thinking, he levitated Malfoy out of his way and then partially unfroze his legs so Snape could place him back in his chair. He unfroze Malfoy's mouth and removed the tongue lock, simultaneously casting a silencing charm and then removed a small phial from his robe and administered the Veritaserum, ensuring all of Malfoy's limbs were frozen.

Casting Muffliato and removing the silencing charm, Snape sat back in his chair opposite a simply furious and foul-mouthed Lucius Malfoy.

"Silence," he commanded. "Now, you will talk, Lucius, and I will listen," Snape said softly. "You will tell me each component part of the enchantment cast on Albus Dumbledore, on the object and all elements to remove it safely from both parties."

Malfoy had no choice, and went through the components, Snape questioning him on each to ensure he had the full information.

There was the main bond enchantment with its usual pain enhancements plus an addition of MacNair's of an additional punishment that would activate the Cruciatus curse on the object if the master was angry. That additional component would need to be extinguished within the parameters of the counter-curse for the enchantment. He told Snape the additional wording.

There was an additional flourish of an appropriation charm to steal the object's magical core. "My own embellishment," Malfoy nodded with self-approbation. "Imagine the horror of the mixed bloods, blood traitors and mud-blood chattering classes to find out their precious Dumbledore used a sexual Thrall and milked a magical creature and one of his former students at that. It was a brilliant addition, if I say so myself," he chuckled. "The results would have been spectacular." Snape asked for the counter-curse so he would not alert Malfoy to the fact this part had already been unravelled, but also just in case there was extra to the removal of it that they had not accomplished. He was satisfied from Malfoy's answer that there was not.

"Any other embellishments?" Snape asked. "To the enchantment, no," was the response.

"Is there an Insidiae or more than one?" Snape asked abruptly.

"Of course," Malfoy looked vexed. Snape had asked so he was compelled to answer, but it was clear he had hoped to be able to omit this information. "If there is any attempt to lift the enchantment without lifting the Cruciatus within, the beast will die in the throes of that curse. There will be no way to lift it once the Thrall is unravelled.

If the whole curse is lifted, the second Insidiae is a Mind-Breaker curse on the master," Malfoy paused, seeing Snape's mouth drop slightly and then smiled broadly.

"We worked this enchantment intricately, Severus, so one way or another, Dumbledore will suffer. I doubt even you will be able to break it. Dumbledore might have been able to, but I expect he will be so sex-addled by now with that beast, he'll be less than useless. I hear those beasts are quite insatiable. Good way for the old goat to go, if you ask me."

"Who are "we", Lucius?" Snape clipped out, trying very hard to suppress his mounting rage at the threat to the lives of both Lupin and Dumbledore and to hear them spoken of in that manner. It was of small comfort to know that at least Dumbledore would not be affected. No, if they lifted the curse, it would be he whose mind would be broken.

"We had a full coven of twelve. After all, Dumbledore _is_ powerful."

"Name them," Snape said curtly.

"Me, McNair, Travers, Selwyn, Goyle, Crabbe, Nott, Yaxley, the Carrows, Rowle and Gibbon. Had we been sure of where you loyalties lie, of course we would have included you," Malfoy jeered. _So, they have an Unspeakable in their coven: that explains a great deal_ , Snape ruminated _._

"I shan't lose sleep over my exclusion, Lucius," Snape's lip curled. "My freedom rests with Albus Dumbledore. And when the Dark Lord returns," Malfoy made to scoff, but Snape made a silencing gesture with his hand " _and you can rest assured he will return_ , Lucius," he emphasised as if speaking to a very stupid student, "I will be _exactly_ where he wishes me to be," he said silkily.

He rolled up the sleeve of his robe, undid his cuff and rolled up his left shirt sleeve to brandish his Dark Mark in Malfoy's face. "Are you blind, Lucius? Do you not see what's happening before your own eyes. It darkens. Only a fool would deny it," he hissed into Malfoy's face and re-dressed.

"Have you left any room for manoeuvre to spare Dumbledore's mind in the lifting of the curse? Remember, my freedom is at stake, Lucius," Snape asked, in an as matter-of-fact voice as he could manage.

"We did not provide for that eventuality. Why should we?" Malfoy shrugged casually until he felt the tip of Snape's wand pressed into his throat once more and Snape hissed again, "Not good enough," through bared teeth.

"Just kill the beast."

Malfoy's bald statement hung in the air until Malfoy waved his head dismissively, looking quickly away from Snape. "Then the Thrall will just fall away. That would be the easiest and it would be no loss after all."

"Now," Snape continued, his voice deadly, "is there anything else that you have omitted to tell me about the release?" His rage was burning in his gut, but subdued by his Occluded mind. _When this interview is over, Malfoy, you will suffer,_ he promised his turbulent soul.

"The final element to release the enchantment is blood from the Master Caster of the Insidiae," Malfoy sneered. Snape thought there was an element of triumph in that sneer that he didn't understand.

"The enchantment was sealed by a blood ritual?" He had suspected as much but was still shocked. Malfoy nodded with barely suppressed glee. "And who was that?" Snape leaned forward in anticipation. Malfoy laughed a small strangulated laugh, as if the question were simply absurd.

"Why, it was you, my darling half-blood."

 


	17. Attractions of Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some physical and sexual violence.

Snape's thumb pressed the Adam's apple and simultaneously increased the pressure of the four corresponding fingers around Lucius Malfoy's throat, his wand trained to the man's chest, his face barely inches away.

"How," he snarled with bared teeth into Malfoy's now purpling face, "did you get my blood?"

All he received in response was a wheezing, which brought Snape somewhat to his senses and his loosened his grip to allow the man to breathe.

Malfoy emitted a few small coughs and then raised one eyebrow at Snape. "Rather sensitive about the Headmaster, aren't we, Severus?" he sneered and then coughed again.

"Do not toy with me, Lucius," Snape spat. "You have used my blood to implicate me in this Dark bond enchantment. I would have every justification in killing you now," Snape's voice fell to a dangerous whisper and he flexed his fingers and thumb around Malfoy's throat menacingly.

"Now you will tell me how you got my blood, and how you used it, and you will tell me _now!"_ Snape said slowly, his voice was barely audible, but his ebony eyes sparked with rage and Malfoy's false smile slipped from his face.

It was, of course, perfect justification for his rage, and Snape counted himself fortunate to have the presence of mind to think of it, when he knew his rage was for the phrase that was playing over and over in his mind: _Just kill the beast._ _Just kill the beast._

Of course, it would be easy for a Death Eater to cast a killing curse at Lupin to free himself of the Mind-Breaker curse, and a Death Eater would know that Dumbledore would never do such a thing; and now, neither would he. Would he have once? _Don't think on it! Not now. Just know you would not do it now – never_. But he had a light at the end of the tunnel, didn't he? If Malfoy was telling the truth, the blood was his and he would give it liberally and hopefully Dumbledore would know how to vanquish the Mind-Breaker.

Malfoy coughed to clear his throat and hiked his eyebrows as if in mild surprise. "I'm rather surprised you don't recall, Severus. You were always so very _eager_ to please the Dark Lord," he smirked unpleasantly. Snape flexed his hand around Malfoy's throat again, and Malfoy closed his eyes and gritted his teeth slightly.

"A veritable little bleeder, in fact," Malfoy opened his eyes again, glinting with malice.

Snape's outward demeanour didn't change, but he knew immediately to what Malfoy was referring. In his early days as a Death Eater, when his loyalty to the Dark Lord was fervent and pure, he always put himself forward for Dark rituals, partly to advance his own knowledge and power, but also to increase his ranking within the Dark Lord's service.

When he had created the Insidiae, the Dark Lord had promoted him to the inner circle. Snape remembered with disgust the perverted and twisted pride he had taken in such an accomplishment. It fell to Snape always to perform the Insidiae using his own blood whenever the Dark Lord required its use. He had obliged with gratitude. There had been many Insidiae casting parchments soaked with blood taken from the veins of his left arm. Could one or more of them have been stored? He'd cast many Insidiae, but had never as part of a Thrall.

"One of many Dark artefacts that were left in your safe-keeping Lucius? Do you think the Dark Lord will appreciate your continued flippant use of these?" Snape sneered. "Dear me, you are so very careless, are you not? Still, it is all to the good then. I am the Caster of the Insidiae so I may relieve it with my blood."

"You would give your blood to save a half-breed beast?" Malfoy snapped, clearly cross that his plan was to be thwarted.

"To save my own hide from Azkaban, Lucius, I should say I would. And you're hardly one to chide me for the misuse of my blood. The question seems to me to be: how many other blood parchments of mine do you have? Hmm?" He looked at Malfoy as if he were asking for no more than the time.

Malfoy smiled unpleasantly. "How many indeed."

"Veritaserum worn off, Lucius?" Snape said, rather lightly. His mood was lifting. He realised he had every justification for what he wanted to do, and what he wanted to do was to hurt Malfoy. Really rather badly.

"The parchment," he said acidly. "You still have it?"

"Used in the ritual, dear heart," Malfoy purred.

"Are there others?" Snape pressed his wand harder in Malfoy's neck, gripping his throat again just tight enough so Malfoy wouldn't lose consciousness.

Malfoy gritted his teeth, looking balefully at Snape.

"If there are, they are no longer yours!" he spat. "You gave them freely to the Dark Lord and he gave them to me for safe-keeping," he managed to grind out.

"You have no idea when to concede, have you, Lucius?" Snape shook his head.

Snape moved away from Malfoy, wondering why the simpering fool had no clue that Snape would not give up. He supposed being so indulged, Malfoy had simply never had to countenance the thought of retiring gracefully. Snape took his robe off, carefully laying it on his chair so as not to crease it, so he was in his shirt sleeves. He wondered if Malfoy recalled this little ritual from his days of service with the Dark Lord; his preparation ritual before he tortured someone of the Dark Lord's choosing.

Staring at Malfoy from a foot away, Snape nonchalantly raised his wand and saw a brief glimmer of fear in Malfoy's eyes. Snape smirked. _Just kill the beast, is it? You may count yourself blessed Lucius Malfoy that I love that beast and do not want to be parted from him by killing you and ending up in Azkaban._ His acknowledgement was a revelation to him. He knew it to be true.

Snape made an almost imperceptible slice with his wand and watched Malfoy's eyes widen as a small slash of blood appeared on Malfoy's neck. He flicked a slice in the opposite direction and the gash healed.

Snape cut again a little deeper, waited whilst the cut bled and then healed it again. His face was immobile but his dark gaze held Malfoy's. He cut again, deeper still and then healed it again. Malfoy's eyes were wide now and shining with fear and pain.

"You wouldn't dare," he croaked.

"And yet, here I am ... daring," Snape said, humourlessly, his onyx eyes, hard as the stone itself.

He slashed this time, he did not heal the slash. "Where are the parchments, Lucius?"

Malfoy gritted his teeth, his eyes were alight with powerless rage.

Snape healed the slash, then slashed on the same place. Malfoy's eyes became glassy with pain. _Well, well, who knew Malfoy had a backbone?_ Snape thought acidly. _My blood parchments certainly seem to be worthwhile._

He started to pace around Malfoy's chair impatiently as he slashed, questioned, healed and slashed again repeatedly. Still Malfoy wouldn't tell him.

Of course, Snape knew a more efficient way to get the information from Malfoy, but he could not deny that each cut and slash he administered salved him as he thought of what Lupin had suffered under this curse; indeed, what he had suffered and what he might suffer yet. He could heal this damage to Malfoy easily enough, but he wanted Malfoy to feel the pain first. Oh yes, indeed.

"I ask you for the final time, Lucius," Snape whispered dangerously, in front of Malfoy now and leaning his forearm against Malfoy's bleeding neck.

"No," Malfoy whispered, one fat tear of pain rolling down his cheek.

"Very well." Snape healed the last gash, scourgified Malfoy's shirt neck and then his own sleeve. He watched Malfoy for a couple of minutes as Malfoy steadied his own breath.

"Better?" Snape asked mildly.

"Look, old man, you understand. I can't just..."

 _The imbecile really thought I would just give up! Does he know me at all?_ Snape thought, wanting to laugh wildly, but then he heard the front door. Having watched Malfoy earlier, he undid the wards against intrusion by Narcissa, cast a silencing charm and full bind on Malfoy and then leaned into Malfoy, grabbed his collar in his fist and kissed him, prying Malfoy's mouth open and searching with his tongue.

Narcissa glided in, perfect, haughty and aloof. She took in the scene before her of Snape in his shirt sleeves, leaning in over her clearly bound husband and kissing him hard.

She gave a small, false cough. Snape disengaged from Malfoy very slowly and deliberately. He understood this couple very well indeed.

"Good evening, Narcissa," he said, with a small curt bow.

Narcissa nodded and turned to her husband. "Really, Lucius? You could not keep your nasty games outside the house? You know how I feel about them. How tacky," she drawled lazily. She turned to Snape. "Severus, I'm rather surprised at you. I had no idea your preferences had broadened so. And so dominant." She allowed her gaze to sweep over his body. "Well, I'm sure you will find Lucius accommodating."

One side of Narcissa's mouth quirked, together with one eyebrow. "Do you have a silencing charm on my husband?" she asked, clearly amused.

"I do," Snape said, standing straight and tall and placing one hand behind his back as he were the lord of this manor.

"Yes, I find it best," she smiled conspiratorially at Snape and eyed him with renewed interest. "Well, as long as you keep the noise down, I'll leave you to it. Good night." She glided away and up the sweeping staircase.

When she was out of sight, Snape turned back to Malfoy, with a crooked smirk and his eyebrow raised slowly as he considered just how much discomfort he could now put Malfoy through, right under Narcissa's nose. It made his pleasure all the more intense.

He cast Muffliato and straightened up and fixed Lucius's eyes with his own.

"Legilimens!" he cried.

He tore straight into Malfoy's mind, in the manner of the Dark Lord, with no pity, no mercy. He had re-cast a silencing charm on Malfoy so he didn't have to hear his screams, but he could hear those made by Malfoy's mind. Lupin was wrong when he said Snape didn't strike Malfoy the way he had struck Lupin; Snape had not been honest when he said he didn't care. He enjoyed every cut and slice on the man's skin, and revelled in every mental shriek as he sliced into Malfoy's mind as he found the vault beneath the floor, how to access it, and the horde of blood parchments the Dark Lord had left with him.

When Snape finished with him, he performed some mind healing on his way out of his mind. He retrieved the parchments and then patted Malfoy on the head in a way he knew would infuriate him and then donned his robe and travelling cloak, packing the blood parchments into an inside pocket.

"If I find out you have used me in such an enchantment again, Lucius. I will kill you," Snape promised darkly. He poured Malfoy a brandy then he lifted the bindings and left the man dishevelled and breathless in his chair.

* * *

Snape had gone straight to Dumbledore's office to recount what he had found out. Dumbledore sent a house elf to summon Lupin to listen also. When Lupin entered the office, without any compunction, he swept Snape into his arms. Snape was speechless, and blushed deeply. He heard Dumbledore chuckle then cough lightly. He was about to put his arms around Lupin in response when he suddenly felt Lupin stiffen and then disengage from him, frowning at Snape. Before Snape could question it, Dumbledore spoke.

"Severus, we've both been concerned about how this evening would go. What tidings?" Dumbledore gestured to both men to take a seat.

Snape recounted everything that Malfoy had disclosed about the enchantments. Dumbledore listened intently. He gave a small but visible start when Snape told them that the blood was his and explained about the blood parchments, and Snape saw Dumbledore's placid facade slip briefly when he told them about the Mind-Breaker Snape would suffer once the enchantment was lifted. Remus listened intently throughout, but said nothing.

"Well they do the thing thoroughly, don't they?" Dumbledore murmured. "Severus, Remus, I want you both to know that I am confident that between us we have the skill between us to vanquish all aspects of these enchantments." Snape couldn't help smiling to himself at Dumbledore's self-deprecation. Dumbledore continued, "There is ancient white magic that will help us with the Mind-Breaker. I know one alumnus who recently had to use just this ancient magic for a tomb in Egypt he was working on."

"Bill Weasley? I knew he worked for Gringotts as a curse-breaker. I thought the work was rather more prosaic." Snape commented.

"Oh no, Severus. He has become quite accomplished. The Egyptians were really quite monstrously inventive in their curse casting. I correspond with him quite often. Source of many interesting developments. I think a judicious letter of enquiry is merited." Dumbledore smiled.

He stood and fingered the sheaf of blood parchments Snape had put on the table.

"That the blood is yours Severus explains a great deal about how this has worked in such unexpected ways." Dumbledore's melodious voice dropped, musing on the developments. "It explains why, when the Thrall was deflected from me, it latched onto you. It explains why the Dark magic I see emanating from you is so apparent to me as part of it originates from your blood." He looked intently over his glasses at Snape. "It was the amplified resonance of this blood magic that I felt and which pulled me to the third floor when you lost your temper with Remus. Without that connection acting as a clarion call to me, I may not have been in time." Dumbledore's voice faded and he looked away and then at the parchments again.

"So many blood curses drawn, Severus," he said mildly, but the sorrowful rebuke was audible to Snape who closed his eyes briefly in acknowledgement of it. "One should never be so free with one's own blood."

Dumbledore picked up the sheaf in his left hand and then ran the palm of his right hand over the sheaf in a circular motion until they rolled as if of their own accord in a ball and then were suddenly consumed by intense but tightly controlled Fiendfyre.

Snape closed his eyes, nodding. Cleansed by Fiendfyre: it was the only way to destroy those blood parchments. At least, there would never be another Insidiae cast with his blood.

* * *

Lupin poured himself a drink, but did not offer Snape one and sat in deep, brooding silence, one finger brushing across his own top lip. Snape stood and looked at him for what seemed like a long time. Something about him seemed larger than usual. More dangerous. _Like a wolf whose hackles were up. Yes, that was it._ Snape closed his eyes slowly in realisation. Lupin could smell Malfoy. He had smelt him when he had embraced Snape on his return.

"Remus?" Snape enquired quietly. There was no answer. Snape said his name again.

"Go to our bed, Severus," Lupin said, his voice was low, harsh and dismissive. "I will see to you there."

Snape knew at a visceral level that he would obey so he said no more and prepared for bed. He lay in bed for half an hour before Lupin came in the room. In their time together since Christmas, except those nights when Lupin had not been with him, going to bed with Lupin always meant pleasure, the only question was to what degree. At this moment, he felt cold and afraid in the pit of his stomach. Yet he was a wizard of not inconsiderable skill, why could he not defend himself? He found it meant nothing. He waited because his body and mind compelled him to. He waited because he wanted to. He waited because Lupin had told him to, and he was Lupin's.

Lupin stood by the bedside looking at Snape, still fully dressed, his expression hard. He picked up the clothes Snape had been wearing. He sniffed the sleeve of the shirt that Snape had cleaned of Malfoy's blood. He breathed in the crotch and leg of Snape's trousers where Malfoy had touched him.

He took the covers from Snape and crawled over him so he was on his hands and knees straddling Snape's naked body. Lupin lowered his face, tracing his nose over all the bites he had inflicted on Snape earlier that day and then on to Snape's ear: the ear that Malfoy had bitten and his nose brushed it and breathed in the scent over his tongue. He took Snape's ear into his mouth in exactly the same place as Malfoy had and bit slowly and deeply on the same place until Snape sucked his breath in sharply in pain. Then he bit down again and licked the blood.

He moved back to face Snape. "Why did you let him bite you?"

"I let him to distract him so he would be wandless so I could then bind him and get the information we needed," Snape said plainly, his voice hoarse as his throat was so dry, and not taking his eyes from Lupin's eyes, so hard and glassy.

Seeing his eyes close up, Snape realised that Lupin was somewhere far away, the place that animalistic possessiveness took those within its fierce grip, beyond reason or kindness.

"You let him touch you elsewhere," Lupin said as a matter of fact. "You kissed him."

"Only as a distraction, Remus. Not from desire," Snape said softly.

"That doesn't matter. You are mine. You do not let anyone else touch you," Lupin snarled.

He leant in to Snape's mouth and sucked his upper lip very hard and then bit it slowly until he drew blood. It made Snape's eyes water with pain, but he did not flinch or move away.

He moved his hand down to exactly the place on Snape's thigh where Malfoy had gripped his thigh. Snape was panicking and his heart beat became more rapid in his fear. Lupin grasped the skin hard and Snape hissed in pain again. But he did nothing to defend himself. He was still compelled to stay.

"Did you punish him?" Lupin growled into Snape's mouth.

"I cut him," Snape said, feeling the hair on his neck and arms rise and tasting the tang of his own fear.

"For touching you?" Lupin's face came nearer, his cold eyes penetrating Snape's own.

"And for hurting you," Snape responded. Lupin's eyes narrowed.

Lupin's hand moved to Snape's genitals. _Merlin, no!_ Snape thought wildly. There was no lust in Lupin's grasp. Snape's heart was hammering harder in his chest now, and yet his flight reflex seemed to be frozen. "Please Remus. Don't hurt me any more," Snape said softly, allowing his fingers to gently stroke Lupin's hair.

"Please don't. I am yours. I know I am. I don't want anyone else," he chanted in a measured tone. He would lie here until Lupin punished him or didn't, and he knew he would accept either, even though he had started to shiver as if very cold and his stomach churned with fear. He continued his quiet, soft pleading with Lupin, who had now clenched his hand tightly and uncomfortably over Snape's genitals, his hand pulsing as if being restrained from grasping harder and damaging him.

Snape moved both his hands so he could stroke Lupin's face gently as he pleaded quietly. "Please Remus. See me," he spoke soothingly, just as he knew Lupin so often spoke to him knowing how it could fetch him from his anger or his sorrow. He kept his gaze steady with Lupin's even though his eyes seemed so alien in their hardness. "Don't hurt me any more. Love me instead."

As he said this, he fancied he saw some of the hardness shift. Lupin took deeper breaths, his eyes still glassy, but not so sharp.

"Remus, please, love me instead," Snape said softly and warmly. He watched as Lupin's eyes slowly seemed to clear and then soften, and then he felt Lupin's hand unclench slowly and relax.

"Severus," Lupin eventually whispered, his eyes widening as he became fully aware of where he was and what he was doing. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." With that, Lupin jumped quickly off the bed, and fled from Snape's quarters, leaving Snape stunned and shaken.

He healed his lip and ear with dittany and waited. After an hour of waiting for Lupin to return, Snape got dressed and started to pace his drawing room, wondering where Lupin had gone. It was past two in the morning now and Snape's nerves were on edge. He needed Lupin. He needed to know he was safe. He went to the map, but he didn't know the charm to read it. He racked his brain, when it struck him. _Of course. The wolf's curse had just mortified Lupin once again. He would go to the wolf's house as penance._ Snape set off to the Shrieking Shack.

He remembered how it was accessed and found a broken branch to immobilise the Whomping Willow and went through the tunnel to the shack at the other end. He'd never been this far in, and his stomach turned over as he remembered what he'd seen. Six months ago, he doubted he would have been able even to walk into this tunnel, the memories sickened him so. But today, he needed to find Lupin.

He entered the ramshackle dwelling with his wand lit and went up the rickety, swaying staircase, knowing at an instinctive level that this was the way to go. In what appeared to be a derelict bedroom, he found Lupin in a fitful sleep, curled up like a child on an old dusty bed. He lowered himself into a broken down chair and sat vigil for his mate.

It was only an hour before Lupin came round to behold Snape watching him. Snape got up and went over to sit next to him to stroke his hair away from his face. Lupin grasped Snape's wrist and brought his hand to his mouth and kissed it over and over, holding his other hand out for Snape's free hand, which he gave. Lupin sat up and pulled Snape to him.

"I'm so sorry, Severus. Forgive me," he said earnestly, holding Snape tightly and kissing his hair. "It's so hard to come back from that place where I have no control." He rested his head against Snape's shoulder. Snape kissed him tentatively and was kissed tenderly in return.

"Why didn't you fight me off?" Lupin asked, his eyes wide.

"I couldn't move," Snape said simply. "I was terrified, but I couldn't move - not until you had finished with me. So I tried to talk to you the way you talk to me when I'm angry and just hoped I could get through to you."

"Thank Merlin you did," Lupin said weakly, pulling his hand across his face as Snape helped Lupin to his feet and they started down the stairs. "It's a terrible thing to be loved by a werewolf, Severus."

"It is an extraordinary thing and usually it is a wonderful thing," Snape said, reassuringly, his stomach finally unclenching and his heart lightening. "But possibly not this night," he said gently as he and Lupin started the walk back to his rooms.

 


	18. Unravelling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some ritualistic violence.

When they had returned to Snape's quarters, they had gone to bed, with Snape resting his back against Lupin's chest and Lupin holding on to Snape more tightly than usual. Now that Lupin's possessive temper seemed to have lifted, Lupin asked Snape again about his time at Malfoy Manor. Snape wondered whether telling him would be a good idea, not just because of his werewolf temperament now he had been Claimed, but also because he had used Dark magic. He decided to go with it and told him everything.

Lupin's eyes widened quite noticeably when Snape told him about Narcissa's reaction. "I suppose really, we should have guessed he had .. shall we call them ... _proclivities_ ... I mean, what man primps his hair the way Lucius Malfoy always has, except perhaps for Gilderoy Lockhart? And I can certainly envisage him in a gimp suit," Lupin stated, chuckling.

"A gimp suit, Remus? Care to explain?" Snape feigned ignorance.

Lupin laughed heartily. "Come now, Severus, you are no shrinking violet, especially with the company you've kept in the past and, after all, you do live in a dungeon." Snape grumbled at the implication even though Lupin was still chuckling. They lay companionably for a while.

"Do you hate me for using such a Dark curse against Malfoy?" Snape suddenly asked directly, looking up at him.

"Sectumsempra was always a great favourite of yours, wasn't it? I should be repulsed by it. I want to be. I'm not." He kissed Snape. "He wove a repeating Cruciatus curse against me personally, Severus. As torture goes, he got off lightly. Well, perhaps not when you invaded his mind though. Did you hurt him when you did that?" Snape nodded and felt a slight flinch in Lupin at this. "Perhaps I am Darker than I realised," Lupin said quietly. A look of concern flitted across his features.

"You're not, I promise you. You are still Light, and pure in my eyes," Snape murmured, kissing under Lupin's jaw.

"Not pure, Severus, surely," Lupin chuckled, stroking the side of Snape's torso, where he knew Snape was so sensitive and that always made him arch and moan. "Perhaps, these are our true colours: the Dark wizard and his werewolf." Snape felt a thrill shoot down his neck to his groin. Even that imagery excited him.

"I didn't cover myself in glory tonight with what I did to you," Lupin said sorrowfully. "How can I judge you? It is part of being a werewolf. Once I have Claimed my lover, any insecurity such as possessiveness, becomes magnified and the wolf's cruelty can come through. I'm sorry I hurt you. My instincts overwhelmed me and I needed to Reclaim those parts of you he touched. I couldn't stop myself for a while. I try so hard not to give in to the wolf, Severus, but some things are too strong." He was holding Snape tightly, as if he might take flight.

"You are no common or garden werewolf, Lupin. You are the only werewolf I know of who, before wolfsbane, shut himself away to endure twice as much pain by inflicting bodily harm on himself because he didn't allow himself to run free! You expect too much of yourself. As for your possessiveness, I would be lying if I said I wasn't shocked and afraid, but," he snorted, "I don't think you will have much reason to fret. You will not find that I am universally worshipped or admired!" Snape held the arms that held him. "I would still rather be Claimed by you than not," he said quietly.

Lupin ran his fingers across the many bites on Snape's neck, shoulders and chest. "Shall I get the balm to heal these?" Lupin asked.

"Leave them," Snape said, stroking Lupin's hand, knowing at an instinctive level that they were important to Lupin, important to his Claim.

"Thank you Severus," Lupin whispered, lowering himself to nuzzle and kiss Snape's neck, and Snape believed he heard a slight sob in Lupin's throat.

* * *

"It is a question of timing that concerns me," Dumbledore stated. "Our unravelling enchantment is complete and I am satisfied that it will work. However, the enchantment continues to be chanted after the Thrall lifts to its completion which means there is a hiatus to casting the Libera Me, which is the counter-curse to the Mind Breaker. As soon as the Thrall lifts, your mind will break if someone is not there to cast Libera Me counter-curse. There must be no hiatus between the two. My suggestion would be to have another caster in attendance," Dumbledore informed them. "I was considering asking Bill Weasley as he has recent experience of this curse."

"Can Lupin not do it?" Snape frowned.

"The Thrall has a physical presence within you both and will literally unravel from its intertwining within your cores, leaving you both quite weakened to begin with. Remus would not be able to do it for some time," Dumbledore said, in measured tones, trying to soothe Snape's visibly growing outrage.

"I hardly want one of my previous students relieving me of a sexual bond, Albus. The idea is horrific! The last time I saw Mr. Weasley, I was tutoring him for his NEWT Potions. It is simply unthinkable," Snape's voice was rising, utterly mortified.

"Is this really an appropriate time for this misanthropy, Severus?" Albus chided.

"I am entitled to my privacy!" Snape shouted.

"Mr Weasley is a professional curse-breaker, Severus. He will respect your and Remus's privacy," Dumbledore tried to reason, but Snape was implacable.

"No, Albus, no second caster. That is my final word." Snape turned on his heel and swept out of the Headmaster's office, only stopping at the base of the stairs to wait impatiently for Lupin.

"Very well Severus," Lupin said calmly, as they fell into step with each other. "What of another caster? Filius perhaps?"

"No!" Snape yelled with horror. "No-one! No-one else must know." He breathed deeply to calm himself. "Would you expose my innermost feelings and actions to the world to gawk at? Isn't it bad enough that Albus and Poppy know, and heaven knows who else?"

"Are you ashamed of our relationship, Severus?" Lupin said quietly as they walked side by side.

"Never, Remus," Snape responded fervently. "But I am a private man. If a Weasley knows our business, the world may as well know." He cursed himself. One look at Lupin's face told him he'd hurt Lupin's feelings. "Please Remus. I'm not ashamed of you. Not one bit of it. But this enchantment, would you have it widely known?" he tried to reason. "A Dark sexual bond enchantment." Snape shook his head.

Lupin stopped in his tracks, Snape stopping two steps later. "Then I cannot allow you to go through with it. This hiatus, if we don't have a second caster, will plunge you into madness. I cannot bear it and I won't. Please be reasonable, Severus," Lupin turned to Snape and placed his hands on Snape's shoulders.

"What would you have me do, Remus? I won't have a second caster so shall I kill you to save myself? I won't do either of these things!" Snape roared, shaking off Lupin's hands.

"Severus, please. We kept it from Albus, and look what happened to us. Look how he's been able to help us. Don't turn away help just because you're too proud,"

"You have no idea what you're asking of me," Snape spat and strode off to be by himself.

His feet took him to the Lake and he walked around its perimeter, deep in thought, turning over, inspecting and examining all that he and Lupin had been through since November. All that might well come to an end once the Thrall was unravelled. He feared madness but found he also feared losing Lupin. His fear was physical. He didn't want to be without him ever again, but he was afraid when the Thrall was removed, Lupin would want him no more. And even more people would know how he was despised and rejected. _Perhaps madness would be better._ Better not to know he was alone again.

Then again, even if Lupin still desired him, it wouldn't be the same, would it? He thought of how he would take Lupin every morning when they renewed the Thrall. The whole thing that had perfected the Thrall in the first place – his own rampant desire to take the werewolf, to be the dominant partner. They'd had no idea that on their orgasms, they would be delivered into a magical vortex of indescribable exquisite ecstasy. Of course, the vortex would be gone. It was marvellous, but that wouldn't be what he would miss.

Lupin was a dominant wolf; Snape was sure Lupin wouldn't let Snape take him anymore. It wasn't that Snape minded Lupin shagging him. Merlin, no! Not one bit of it: he coveted everything that Lupin did to him, including filling him up until he thought he would burst will joy. But to be able to take Lupin made it complete. Knowing he was the _only_ man to have done so made him feel special in a way he had never known before Lupin. He sighed heavily.

He picked up a stone and skimmed it across the water. He hadn't done that for years. Ten bounces, not bad. He kicked up a clod of dirt and turned purposefully back to the school. Only a matter of days now until the new moon. Why on earth was he wasting this time? This was time he should be spending with Lupin while he was still wanted and he intended to make use of every single minute. _Oh yes indeed_ , he thought as his jaw set firmly.

* * *

He swept into his quarters to find Lupin waiting for him, clearly worried for him. Snape's desire overwhelmed his thoughts of madness and lovelessness instantly. He felt like a man on borrowed time and he wasn't going to waste time talking.

"Please listen to me Severus," Lupin said as he walked towards him with his hands outstretched to catch his. "I am so worried about this, I..."

Snape kissed him forcefully, deeply and passionately, catching Lupin's hands in his own and wrapping them behind Lupin's back. "I won't discuss it, Remus. Come to bed with me now." His voice was deepened with desire, as he pulled Lupin to the bedroom and pushed him onto the bed. He was lost within his own lust now, only knowing the heavy muzziness in his head and the gnawing desire in his gut and the deep throbbing in his groin as he covered Lupin with his fully clothed body, holding Lupin's wrists above his head and pressing against him as he sucked at his lips and tongue as he felt Lupin responding the same.

Lupin must have despatched their clothes, because Snape was too insensible with all-consuming lust to deal with clasps or buttons or cords. He just wanted to feel Lupin's body, grasp it, kiss it, suck it, bite it, _take it._

As soon as their clothes were gone, he did all these things to Lupin, who was writhing under him, groaning almost incessantly at the unrelenting and demanding attentions of Snape's mouth, teeth, lips, fingers and hands that allowed him almost no leeway to reciprocate. Snape snaked his hand under Lupin to find his opening to stroke and then slip his fingers in, trying to be careful but trembling in barely contained impatient desire. He thrust his fingers in, stroking them until he heard those particular moans of Lupin's he loved and felt his slickness. "Merlin, Severus!" he heard Lupin moan.

Snape pulled Lupin's legs and butt off the bed and turned him over swiftly onto his knees, his own body now shrieking at him for release. He lowered himself to his knees behind Lupin and pushed into his hot, slick, tight channel, almost weeping with the feel of it as he struggled not to come immediately. He stopped himself, barely able to breathe. He calmed his breathing as he massaged Lupin's hips with hands to calm himself more.

Lupin started to moan his name encouragingly and began moving back on to Snape slowly making Snape's breath hitch. A deep growl escaped from Snape's throat and he started to thrust slowly again, tightening his grip on Lupin's hips and on his cock, listening to Lupin's growing moans. He drove himself in deeper, finding Lupin's sweet spot that made him cry out, and plunged to that spot over and over again, as Lupin became more delirious in his own desire, and began to repeat his name amidst his moans. Harder and faster now, hand and hips, he thrust into Lupin and Lupin pushed back onto him greedily, as Snape's orgasm started to spiral inexorably, thrilling him to his core, then broke over him with hard surges of pleasure as he heard Lupin also cry out and the vortex took over at that point and brought the men to the zenith of pure ecstasy and power, and then ebbed, leaving them spent but still energised, as if emerging from a lightning storm.

* * *

"He will not be moved on it, Albus," Lupin said, pacing Dumbledore's office. "Nothing I say will move him on it. He will not hear of a second caster. He's maddeningly stubborn!" Lupin dropped into a chair, exasperated. The object of his ire stood not two foot away, rigid and with his hands behind his back, looking sternly at Lupin.

"I'm all too aware of how stubborn Severus can be," Dumbledore said, peering at Snape over his glasses. "Severus, my boy," he started kindly, but was interrupted.

"Don't bother, Albus," Snape said curtly over him. "This is a pointless conversation. I won't hear of it."

Dumbledore stood and walked round to them both placing the merest tips of his fingertips on Snape's shoulders. "Severus, I know how you value your privacy and I even understand how this has its roots in your unhappy recollections of others' invasions of that privacy," Dumbledore's eyes flicked to Lupin, who flinched, realising Dumbledore was referring to the Lake amongst other things.

"I am not beyond begging you if I have to," Dumbledore said mildly, returning to his seat. "Neither I nor Remus wish to see you lose your mind under this Dark curse. Severus, my boy, how do I make you take this seriously? How do we make you take care of yourself the way we wish to take care of you? Severus, please."

Snape's hands unclenched each other and dropped to his sides, surprised by Dumbledore's pleading tone. He didn't believe he had ever heard it before. He hoped he would never hear it again. It made him feel hollow.

He raised his hand to his brow, screwed his eyes shut, and tried to see their point of view. The air was heavy and still waiting for his response.

"I cannot."

"Then I will not," Lupin said defiantly. "I won't go through with the ritual. As long as the thresholds are bound, we can just live with it."

Before Snape had the chance to object, Dumbledore spoke, "I can't allow it, Remus. Not here at Hogwarts. I will not tolerate Dark enslavements here, no matter how willingly you believe you are acting. I would rather break this with your consent and co-operation," he said, the mildness hardening with each sentence. "Be under no illusion, I will do so without it, if required."

Snape was shocked, but Remus remained defiant. "Then compel Severus to accept the second caster. Just bring him and do not allow Severus to resist. There can be no other way, Albus."

"Very well. You are right, Remus. I will appoint a second caster and you will attend the ritual, Severus," Dumbledore stated with a tone of finality that brooked no argument.

Snape rounded on Lupin, his black eyes blazing with anger. Lupin, still sitting, regarded him mildly. Snape strode out of Dumbledore's office to his own rooms, raging with his powerlessness to control this. He's been outsmarted and he was smarting with the offence.

Ten minutes later, Lupin arrived. Snape was pacing his room, still angry. Lupin stood and watched him for a while and then grabbed one wrist to stop Snape pacing, and kissed his mouth gently.

Snape pulled himself away. "Leave me alone," he spat, his eyes glittering.

"No," Lupin said simply and kissed him again. "I will not have you endanger yourself. I don't care how angry you are with me."

Snape pushed him away again. "Leave me be," he hissed again.

"I will not," Lupin said, moving in front of Snape so he could not get past.

"Why are you being so infuriating, Lupin?" Snape shouted, his face white with rage, standing rigid, with his hands clenched into fists at this side.

"Because I love you," Lupin said softly, holding Snape's fists.

"Because I'm scared of the ritual and what may happen to you." He lifted Snape's fists to his mouth and grazed the knuckles with his lips. "And to me." He pulled Snape towards him. "And to us." He kissed Snape's mouth again as he wrapped his arms around him in an unyielding embrace. "And I don't want to spend one single minute arguing. Now _you_ come to bed with _me_!" he said as Snape's spine softened to his touch. Hearing his own thoughts echoed to him made his anger drain away and he followed Lupin to the bedroom, hoping very much that the werewolf was feeling demanding. He needed very much to be Claimed wholly and fully this night to purge him of the residue of his rage.

* * *

It was Easter weekend. There were no lessons and Dumbledore had determined that the propitious time for casting would midnight at the new moon.

The Ritual Room had been set up. Snape had only seen this room a couple of times before when some Dark rituals needed to be undone or cleansed. He saw Bill Weasley arrive at the Headmaster's office and felt his mortification re-surfacing. He'd threatened Dumbledore that he'd Stupefy Weasley before he had the chance to see him, but was warned that he would only be replaced by someone else, so nothing could be gained by it. He admitted defeat with no grace whatsoever.

When the appointed time came, both he and Lupin in plain robes entered the Ritual Room. Dumbledore stood on the dias, and Weasley stood before him, both with wands in hands.

Lupin and Snape stood before Dumbledore, for all the world like a betrothed couple. Weasley took his place behind Snape, his face impassive.

"I have told Bill here of the Death Eater plot regarding the non-consensual casting of these enchantments," Dumbledore said, catching Snape's eye conspiratorially. "You may rely upon his discretion." Weasley gave the men a small smile of reassurance each. "Hello, Bill," Lupin said amiably. Snape gave him a curt nod.

"No time like the present," Dumbledore smiled and placed an ornate chalice and ritual blade on the altar beside him. Snape unbuttoned his cuff and rolled up his sleeve to expose his left arm with the outline of the Dark Mark upon it.

Dumbledore started the incantation and took the silver ceremonial dagger, with its wickedly sharp waved blade to Snape's left arm, which he held out unflinchingly, holding Lupin's gaze as he did so. If something went wrong, and he were to go mad, he wanted Lupin's face to be his last coherent thought. Dumbledore cut cleanly and deeply and caught his blood in the bejewelled chalice. Lupin then stood before Snape and held his left arm firmly as he healed the deep gash with his wand as Snape had shown him and buttoned his cuff as they shared as small smile of understanding.

Dumbledore continued to chant the incantation, touching the dagger to the blood in the chalice which then hissed and smoked. At this time, Weasley started his own incantation and the intonations merged in their resonances. Still chanting, using the dagger tipped with the enchanted blood, Dumbledore marked the contrasting runic symbols first on Lupin's forehead who gasped and folded over his own stomach, and then on Snape's forehead, as Weasley performed a complicated wand casting, drawing gold runic symbols over Snape's head.

Resonant chanting continuing somewhere in his consciousness, Snape was vaguely aware of Lupin uttering small cry of something like relief and shuddering then straightening, but then Snape was overwhelmed with immediate, sharp pain that pierced his core that bent him over double as well.

He felt the Thrall unravel in a violent spinning motion in his very core. It spun outwards and then was torn and shredded from him brutally, strand by strand by strand.

Then he felt his mind unravelling ... breaking ... shattering.

He sobbed in physical pain and then torment harrowed his soul and he collapsed to the floor. As his eyes rolled up, he saw the ceiling fracture and rent itself open. A livid, purple firmament was revealed where blackened thunderheads rolled along and deafening thunder shook his world, as forked lightning snaked across the angry sky.

Furies streaked across the sky; furies with the faces of the Dark Lord's victims tormenting him with every memory of torture, every scream of pain that he had ever inflicted on an innocent soul replaying in agonising slowness before him, feeling their fear, feeling their pain, as hot, burning, searing blood rained down upon his head and body, melting and twisting his skin, layer by layer, revealing bone.

Snape howled in agony, confusion and terror as invisible claws and nails raked at his melting skin, and hell hounds' sharp teeth bit and tore at his exposed bone. The agony was unceasing and unrelenting and he knew there would be no respite; his screaming mind knew there could never be relief. This was the damage of his soul made flesh. This would be his hell on earth until the day he died.

_Dormite oblivio!_

Blackness.

 


	19. A Meeting of the Minds

From deep in the void, Snape heard voices. Very far away. Now just audible. He strained to hear the words, but there was such pressure in his head as if clamped by two strong forces and his core felt stripped and raw.

Blackness.

The voices were nearer now. He could hear them as they slowly began to make sense to his throbbing brain.

"It should not have happened." An angry voice. He wasn't sure he recognised it.

_What should not have happened? Blinding instant recollection: the pain (but it was nearly gone) and the visions (foul, horrendous visions) but they were gone. Mercifully gone._

"You could not have given me all the information!" _Ah yes, Mr. Weasley._ _What did Albus forget? Or what did he omit?_

"Twelve casters and a blood parchment certainly made for a ferociously powerful curse, but the casting I used should have let us in at the break of the Thrall."

"Now, now, Bill," Dumbledore soothed. "It is broken now, isn't it? Luckily, due to your expertise, it was only for a short while."

"Professor Snape should not have had to suffer like that, even for a minute, not for one second!"

_Well, Weasley is really very angry. That's a revelation._

"The Mind Breaker lifted but, Headmaster, there may well be damage." Weasley's voice was soft but urgent. "What Professor Snape will have seen will be his very worst nightmares made flesh. It's nothing like a boggart, I can promise you. It's a very real, mind breaking experience. Those who have been brought back from the mind break, and Headmaster, not everyone can come back, speak of such dark and terrible things as defy belief, and these people have not been former Death Eaters."

"What sort of damage, Bill?" Lupin's voice, quiet, measured, worried.  _Remus is here!_

"When he wakes, he will need a mind healer to mend the break."

"He'll never agree," Lupin sighed.

"Then he'll never be well," Weasley said grimly.

"What _was_ left out, Headmaster?" Weasley was insistent. _Good for you Weasley, keep him on the hook_.

There was a lengthy silence, then:

"The blood parchment was Professor Snape's own casting, used without his knowledge."

There was a gasp. _Must be Weasley,_ Snape thought. _Remus knows this._

"You should have told me, Headmaster," Weasley said firmly. "Removing a Mind Breaker from the blood giver, especially if coerced or unknowing, would have changed the casting runes. I could have prevented this. The world knows that Professor Snape was a Death Eater. It would hardly have shocked me," Weasley snapped resentfully.

It would take a lot for a Weasley to snap at Albus Dumbledore like that, Snape knew. He taught them all, and knew the father. They worshipped Dumbledore, just like Lupin does. More was said, but he felt himself drifting away from the conversation again.

"Severus, Severus? I wonder if you can hear me. Please come back." _Remus._

A gentle touch to his hand, then Lupin's hand holding his. He recognised his smell. It warmed him. Lupin's head resting on his hand now. A small drop of wetness. _A tear? Too painful to think about._ He drifted away again.

Dry fingers, like parchment, just touching his hand, then gone. "Severus, my son, forgive a fallible old man for his grave error." _Albus. Sounding sad and old. Too painful._

"Hello, Remus. Back again? There's been no change." _Poppy._ "You shouldn't spend all your time here. I can fetch you if there's any change."

"I want to, Poppy." _Remus sounds sad. I want to talk to him. Where is my voice? Why can't I speak? Can he even tell I want to speak to him?_

Movement on the bed. He was being moved. Someone sitting with him, just behind him, arms wrapped around his chest. _Oh Remus._ Snape's heart constricted. Lupin was still here. Had been with him since ... _since when? I don't know how long I've been here._

"Come on, Severus," Lupin said gently. "I need you to hear me and come back to me."

_I want to, Remus. I don't know how to._

He faded away again, hearing Lupin's voice but unable to focus on the words but deeply comforted by the sound of it.

He felt drawn back. His body felt different.

"That doesn't look like a comfortable way to sleep, Remus," _Poppy._

"It's how we always sleep."

_REMUS! Has he no sense of decorum?_

He could feel Lupin in his bed behind him, with Snape on his chest, just like they always slept, except for the modesty-saving pyjamas. He felt that he and Lupin were both wearing pyjamas.

_If that woman makes one single crack about kittens, there will be such..._

"Hopefully, Severus will know and it will give him some continuity, Remus. I hope he wakes soon. We're all so worried."

Snape was moved. He wanted to tell her all was well, but he had no voice.

The light was extinguished. He saw that through his eyelids and felt Lupin get comfortable underneath him and tighten his embrace.

"Dear Severus," Lupin sighed. "I wish I knew how to bring you back." He felt Lupin stroke his hair gently and then kiss his forehead and eventually he heard Lupin's breath become deep and slow in sleep.

 _I love you, Remus_ , he thought. _I want to tell you._

He drifted back to the touch of Lupin stroking his hair and face again.

"Good morning, Severus," Lupin purred in his ear. "It's the most beautiful dawn. Shall I describe it to you, how the sun's rays are just visible over the mountains..." Snape really rather liked Lupin's voice. It was so soothing, not gruff like his own voice. _Unless he was the wolf, then he was gruff, oh yes indeed._

He tried to speak again. He felt so weak. He wanted to see Lupin. He wanted to look in his eyes. His head was still heavy as if weighted, and his eyelids felt heavy and dry. He concentrated very hard to try to lift his head, to look up and open his eyes, and then - he felt them flutter and he saw his mate.

"Oh Severus!" He saw those blue eyes light up and fill with tears as Lupin kissed Snape's slightly upturned face. "I'll call Poppy."

"No," Snape managed weakly. "Not yet."

Lupin hugged him and kissed his forehead, then nose, then lips lightly. "Oh Severus, I'm so happy you're back. I was so worried." He helped Snape to drink some water.

Snape found he wanted to speak no more, but just wanted to look and listen to Lupin.

"Just talk to me, Remus," he managed to croak. Lupin babbled away happily about who had been to visit him and what was happening in the school during the holiday, and Snape listened and watched him in wonder, wishing he were stronger to let him know that he loved him.

"In the summer, would you come away with me, Severus? A holiday. Nowhere hot, obviously. I'm pretty sure you'd combust on contact with bright sunshine. But, oh, there are so many places I'd like to show you. Places steeped in old magic. Marvellous places. There are extraordinary druidic places. Have you been to any?" Snape shook his head. "Avebury, Stonehenge, Tintagel, Cadr Idris? Oh, they're unbelievably powerful, Severus."

 _Me on holiday? Well, I just never have._ The thought struck him just too odd. Too carefree.

"Oh, it's a shame you aren't a bit stronger. I could show you. I mean, you could look for yourself at my memories and my thoughts." He paused, looking at Snape. "Perhaps then you could speak to me too."

Snape smiled a small smile. Lupin was really quite clever.

"My wand..." Snape croaked.

Lupin reached to the bedside table and then pressed Snape's wand into his hand and adjusted both of them so they both lay on their sides, facing each other. He looked directly into Snape's eyes, and helped Snape to raise his wand.

Snape slid easily into Lupin's mind, and knew at once he was welcomed and loved.

"Remus." His mind voice was clear.

"Severus."

"Thank you for staying with me. I heard you."

"Why would I leave you?"

"I feared you would when the Thrall broke."

"But I've Claimed you. That was nothing to do with the Thrall."

"Thank you, Remus. I don't know what else to say."

"Tell me how you feel."

"My head is heavy and it hurts behind my eyes."

"I will tell Poppy – perhaps she can help."

"My insides feel like they've been ripped out. Where the Thrall was – I know it's gone. I feel it. It hurts. Do you feel that?"

"I did at the ritual, but not now. I'll speak to Albus.

"I heard Mr. Weasley telling off Albus."

"He was rather cross, Severus." _Snape felt Lupin's good humour at this_. "He was appalled that happened. Oh, Severus, you collapsed screaming in terror in front of us. Bill put you into oblivious sleep immediately, but I've never seen such terror as that. Do you want to tell me what you saw?" _He felt Lupin's love and concern._

"Weasley was right. Everything horrific from my days as a Death Eater. It was brief, but it was pure terror and agony."

"Oh, Severus." A small pause. "Bill says you'll need a mind healer."

"I heard and no."

"Severus..."

"No. No-one is accessing my mind."

"Aren't I now?"

"No, I am in yours."

"Repressed alpha." _He felt Lupin's humour again._ Lupin was only teasing him, but he needed to know why Snape refused.

"Remus, the Dark Lord would invade my mind when it pleased him. I could Occlude my mind to keep my thoughts from him, but he could still tear and shred it if he chose to. Sometimes, he would heal it on the way out, but often he didn't."

"Severus, I'm sorry."

"No matter. But no-one will enter my mind again, not even a mind healer."

"Has Albus ever entered your mind?"

"Only once, and then with my permission."

"Bill says you'll never recover without it."

"Perhaps, he's wrong."

"Perhaps. Although perhaps curses are his area of expertise." _He felt Lupin's exasperation and it warmed his heart_.

"Severus?"

"Severus, I know you're still here. It is my head, after all."

"Remus. Talk to me of other things whilst I think on it. Show me our holiday, as you said."

"Thank you, Severus." _Sincerity and love. This type of Legilimency was extraordinary._ Snape's heart was painfully full as he felt Lupin's strong positive emotions as if they were his own.

"Let me show you this, Severus."

Snape found himself by a lake, surrounded by rugged, gorse-covered, steep rock walls – mountains all around. Although he had no physical presence here, he felt as if he and Lupin were suddenly standing together on the mountain top, shaped like a giant's arm chair. The panorama was breath-taking and rugged, the weather wild as it whipped through his hair and across his face.

"A memory?"

"I've been here before. This is Cadr Idris, Severus. It's a place of ancient druidic magic. We are here at the seat of this magic. It is where an ancient giant used to sit to watch the stars. I'd like to visit this place with you very much, Severus."

Snape saw Lupin's thoughts of himself and Lupin having sex on this very spot. It was a bloody dawn, there was a storm lashing down on them and lightning streaked past them. _MindRemus_ was taking _MindSeverus_ hard as the rain came down on their naked bodies and both were crying out. It was outrageously erotic to watch.

"Merlin's beard, Remus! Why are we shagging on a mountain top in an electric storm?"

"We're loving it!" Lupin thought lightly. "You know the legend. If you can stay here the night without being driven mad by the gods, you will be a poet in the morning."

"Is that madness or poetry?" Snape thought drily, looking at their mind selves writhing in the downpour.

"I think it's the poetry of knowing to take happiness when it comes to you."

"Remus, you are sex mad."

"Yes, Severus."

Snape looked again at their mind selves rutting gloriously. What a holiday that would be.

"Come with me, Severus."

Although they had no bodies, he felt as if they were hiking down the tricky landscape of the mountain side. The air had an electric tang, the smell was full and round and was... yes, a taste as well ... it was earth, nature...

"The smells are extraordinary."

"Wolf sense of smell, Severus."

"Remarkable." Snape was awed.

As they approached flatter land, still strewn with gorse and rocky outcrops, Snape saw a ruined farmhouse.

"It belongs to Albus. It's under the Fidelius charm. Watch now. You won't be able to see it reveal because no Legilimens can break the Fidelius that way, but you can step over its threshold with me."

Again, he felt as if he were moving with Lupin. He was inside the farmhouse. No longer a ruin, but sparingly furnished with rustic simplicity and many books lined all the spare walls. It was expected both of Dumbledore and of Lupin, and his own idea of heaven. From every window, great mountains rose, covered in purple heather and slashed with grey outcrops and giant trees. The weather was wild outside, but inside, it was calm and warm. _Calm and warm like Lupin himself,_ Snape thought.

"I never knew about this place. Have you been here often?"

"Albus lets me use it when I need to. Sometimes, life has not been kind to me and I find the ancient magic here gives me solace." _He felt many old sorrows of Lupin's struggle to the surface for recognition, but felt them pushed away quite firmly._ "I'd like to share this place with you, Severus, if you'd come with me." _He felt the warmth and affection in Lupin's mind and basked in it. It felt to Snape's mind restorative and relaxing like being bathed in sunshine or in a warm natural spring._

Their consciousness moved from room to room, and _Severus_ and _Remus_ appeared in each; Lupin's mind conjuring their time together here. He saw himself and Lupin sitting companionably in the small sitting room: with books, playing chess, holding each other, eating together, talking; in the kitchen: cooking together.

"I've never cooked for anyone else. I think I should like to cook for you, Remus."

They moved to the bedroom. He wasn't surprised to see _Severus_ and _Remus_ were having sex. But his heart leapt to see himself taking Lupin, deliciously slowly on the bed. _Remus_ was kneeling on the bed, slightly bent forward and had braced his hands against the wall. _Severus_ was behind him, fully sheathed with his hands on his hips, moving with incredible restraint.

"Merlin, Remus, your mind certainly flatters me!"

The _Severus_ that he watched was lean and taut and every muscle glistened as he moved, his face was his, but more regular, less angular, and, well, handsome.

"You need your eyes checked Remus. I'm sure we don't look quite so ... magnificent." _He felt something like wonder at Lupin's perception of them together._

He felt Lupin chuckle deeply. It resonated beautifully throughout his body.

"That is how I see you, Severus, and you _are_ magnificent," he heard Lupin's thought and it was emphatic, and he felt Lupin swell with love and want. His heart swelled in turn.

He moved to stand with _Severus_ , watching from where he stood as he pushed into _Remus_ excruciatingly slowly, and suddenly he felt what _Severus_ was feeling. He moaned a lowing, deep moan as he felt the hot, wet, tightness of _Remus_ up and down his desperately hard, aching cock. He watched himself enter and push inward and then take himself out until just the very tip of his head sat at Lupin's welcoming entrance, moving the head around the opening teasingly and then moved in once more to the stretched opening up to his very root. He'd never watched it before. _It was beautiful._ And he heard _Remus_ moaning, and then he heard Lupin moaning too within in his head. He was connected with _Severus_ of Lupin's mind now and felt every bit of pleasure that he felt even as he moved away to look at _Remus_.

He moved so that he was standing in front of _Remus,_ whose arms were either side of Snape. He wished desperately that he could kiss him. _Remus's_ eyes were heavy lidded and clouded with lust, but he looked at Snape longingly, who moaned again, his body still feeling exquisite sensations of _Severus_ that he now looked at over _Remus's_ shoulder, that _Severus_ still intently watching their beautiful coitus.

He heard Lupin loudly sigh. "Ahh, Severus. I wish you'd take me so I could look at you." Lupin thought wistfully.

"I never thought ..." Snape thought, haltingly as he was still feeling _Severus's_ length working in _Remus._ "When I first took you, I was so afraid I would hurt you, I took you this way." He paused as more sensations washed over him.

"It's gentler. Then I had to hold your heart to keep your core ... I ... I ... you should have said," he finished feebly still revelling in the feel of this mind sex, feeling as real as it could do.

"You could tell _Severus_ what to do..." Lupin thought, his thought voice deeper with desire.

Snape found himself back with _Severus_ , who slowly removed himself from _Remus_ and pulled his hips to him, manoeuvring him to turn to face him, then taking one hand to hold the back of _Remus's_ head to kiss him passionately, his tongue searching deeply and receiving its response. _Severus_ then gently laid _Remus_ on his back and gently spread his legs as wide and high as he could. _Remus_ certainly wouldn't need more preparation; his opening was still glistening invitingly. _Severus_ settled himself on top of _Remus_ to kiss him hard, then to kiss and suck along his neck and shoulders before bringing his face back up to into _Remus's_ beautiful eyes as he raised himself up on one hand, canted _Remus's_ hips, his other hand then guiding himself back into _Remus's_ exquisitely tight muscles.

Snape moaned low again, in time with _Severus_. "Merlin, Remus, your arse is just incredible." He had thought this many times, but suddenly realised Lupin would hear it.

He felt that deep, throaty chuckle reverberate though his body. "Likewise, Severus."

He felt _Severus_ start to roll into his thrusts, as Snape watched _Remus's_ handsome face. It reacted differently than when Lupin took him. It was beautiful in is _expectancy_ , its pure anticipation of desire to be fulfilled. He particularly watched _Remus's_ ripe lips, issuing their moans and sighs and repeating his name in panted demands and desire. He flicked from his lips to his eyes – the blue so much darker when _Remus_ was in lust.

"Gods, Remus, you look like the most debauched but innocent angel. How is that even possible!" Snape's thought was loud, like an ejaculation of pleasure. He could feel _Severus_ coming to his orgasm, but more than that. He was melting into _Remus's_ eyes. He was feeling _Severus's_ cock throbbing with pending orgasm, his balls tight into his body, but he also felt the delicious friction _Remus_ was feeling in his hot channel, he could feel his own cock as _Remus_ was feeling it against his sweet spot. He felt his own hand on _Remus's_ cock but also how _Remus's_ cock responded to his own hand. He was sure his own body was building as well.

"Merlin, Severus, do you feel it? Me and you – can you feel it?" Lupin's mind voice growled, clearly on the point of orgasm himself.

He could barely think a "yes". His mind was fizzing as if it would explode with the different pleasures he was physically feeling as well as his mind experiencing, some his own but others distinctly and clearly belonged to Lupin.

 _Severus_ and _Remus_ came loudly, bucking robustly against each other; and Snape and Lupin came too, their physical bodies still, bar their harsh breathing under the bedclothes, although their very real orgasms burst from them both fiercely. They lay quietly, Snape still embedded in Lupin's mind, shocked and stunned until eventually Lupin thought.

"Severus, did you know that could happen?" Snape heard the wonder in his mind voice.

"I had no idea anything so glorious could happen." Snape thought. "I'm sure some wizards must have tried it before but ... ye gods, Remus ... I had no idea ... just ... Merlin help me .. I felt what you feel as well as I what feel ... that has to be the ultimate fantasy."

"It's certainly beats any fantasy I've ever had." Lupin thought. _Snape could feel Lupin's emotions even stronger than any time before. He could feel without any doubt that Lupin loved him. It was strong and clear. It made him feel stronger than he had ever felt._

"We have a magic of our own now, Severus, you and I," Lupin thought.

"I want to come to this farmhouse with you in the summer, Remus," Snape thought simply.

"Then you must be well. Will you see a mind healer so you can be with me?" Lupin asked.

Snape was silent, but he mentally breathed in all the profound emotions, recorded sights and sounds of Lupin's mind that he could, immersing himself in the man's tenderness and love and weighed them in the balance with his pride.

"To be with you, yes."

He slipped gently out of Lupin's mind and smiled at the man facing him. Lupin kissed him gently on the mouth, and took Snape's wand to put it back on the bedside table, and picking up his own, he cleansed them both.

 


	20. Misanthrope and Lycanthrope

At least Snape was being allowed to convalesce in his own rooms. Although he had been in a side ward, he still hated being in the hospital wing. He felt vulnerable and exposed there. Visitors would come and expect to see him. He had no wards of his own to keep them out. It made him irritable. At least, once he was back in his own quarters, people would be less likely to call on him and expect him to pass the time of day with them. Lupin seemed to find this amusing. He told him again he was a misanthrope.

 _The misanthrope and the Lycanthrope._ Snape was well pleased with his own humour.

He had not been in the void for as long as he thought: it had been four days until he'd found his way back to Lupin. He was still very weak and suffered tremendous pressure headaches and his core still seemed badly affected and raw. He felt unwell all of the time. Lupin had no side effects at all and seemed in rude good health. Poppy had given him extra pain relieving potions but tried to impress upon him the need to see a mind healer as quickly as possible. He was more than reluctant, but he had promised Lupin so Lupin had pressed ahead with arrangements co-opting Dumbledore to pull strings to have the Healer Apparate to Hogwarts so Snape didn't have to attend St. Mungo's and thereby find an excuse not to go.

Healer Smethwyck was a senior Healer and specialist in curse damage. He arrived after lunch and was brought to Snape's quarters by Dumbledore, after being apprised of the nature of the damage Snape had suffered. Snape had asked Lupin to be present as well, at least for this first session.

They sat down together and the Healer explained that he would need to assess the Break through Legilimency, even going so far as to start to explain to Snape what Legilimency was. Snape had to interrupt at this point to make plain to the Healer that he himself was an expert Legilimens and Occlumens, so they should _understand_ each other on this as this progressed.

He got the distinct impression that this made the Healer uncomfortable, possibly fearing that Snape might Trap him. A superior Legilimens could Trap as lesser exponent of the craft in the mind they were seeking to explore. Well, Snape wasn't going to disabuse him of the notion that it could happen _just in case_ he set a foot out of place in Snape's mind.

Snape could tell that the Healer was no fool. He probably was quite expert in his field, but, try as he might, Snape was short-tempered and unco-operative with him. He was doing this because he had promised Lupin, and for no other reason, but he was deeply resentful that he was having to do this at all.

After discussing the mind castings and possible use of modified Legilimency healing Potions, it was agreed that the Healer should commence.

He cast the spell and entered Snape's mind. Snape struggled to keep his Occlumency barriers down; it was so reflexive for him to adopt a siege mentality to the use of Legilimency against him. The Healer was efficient. He had nothing like the skill or whispered touch of Dumbledore, but he was respectful and careful, possibly even fearful. Snape suspected his reputation as a former Death Eater might have preceded him.

Snape became very aware as the Healer approached the Break. It started to feel more aggravated and sore at the Healer's presence, almost as if it were a living thing. The Healer spent a long time inspecting the Break in silence and then quietly and gently left Snape's mind.

He sat back in his own chair and regarded Snape, Dumbledore and Lupin.

"It is a very deep and malignant rift in your consciousness and I can see the original Break was very much broader and deeper before the rune casting managed to deal with the majority of the damage," the Healer pronounced seriously. "You must be in great pain, Professor Snape, more, I believe, than you first advised me."

Snape received dark looks from Lupin and Dumbledore. _If you told someone you were in pain, was it not obvious that it must be troubling you!_ "Is one obliged to rank one's misery for another's reference?" Snape huffed at them. "I knew I would seeing the Healer. It wasn't necessary to go into greater detail than the mere fact that I was in pain." Lupin rolled his eyes at Snape nonetheless. They turned back to the Healer.

"I will need to heal the Break in tranches over time, starting from one side and moving to its furthest reaches to knit together those parts of the mind, whilst always aiming to keep the mind's integrity ensuring we cleanse the remainder of the Break of its inherent malignancy as we go. I believe it will take a couple of months. I believe I will need to see you once a fortnight." He looked apologetically at Snape, who was clearly displeased with this time frame. However, Snape agreed to commence their first session immediately and then to be taught some meditation exercises and his Potions regimen.

* * *

After the first session, Snape acknowledged there was an improvement to his headache, but not as great as he would have liked, but it was no longer completely debilitating. What was still causing him some distress was the pain to his core which had not subsided at all, even with pain relief potions.

"Did you ask Albus?" he asked Lupin that evening as they lay in each other's arms before the fire after dinner.

"He didn't know although we discussed it at length and he suggested, I hope you don't mind, that I fire-call Bill Weasley about it. Bill told me how the casting was worked and sent me the casting to look at and I worked that and Albus's together and I think I understand now what happened to your core." He hesitated.

"Well," Snape said, impatiently.

"I don't think it was intentional ... I mean ... I hope you won't take it that way ... I see how it happened," he prevaricated.

"Get on with it, Remus. What?" Snape moved slightly away from Lupin so he could look him in the eye.

"There was one thing that was off with Bill's casting so it didn't quite align with Albus's, probably because Albus didn't tell Bill ... ah ... that we are a couple .. er ... that we're lovers." Snape closed his eyes, understanding before it was said what had happened. _You reap what you sow, Severus,_ he thought sourly.

"Albus's casting preserved any genuine feelings we have for each other, whilst removing the Thrall; Bill's looked to removing all trace of your feelings for me because he was told it was a non-consensual bonding – he supposed, I imagine, anything you felt for me was against your will and therefore a component part of the Mind Break. So there were actually two rather important pieces of information he didn't have so your mind and your core have been affected. I believe this is why your core is agonised. The casting tried to rip your feelings away just as Albus's removed the Thrall itself. Your feelings are still there, but badly injured."

Snape exhaled heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I made such a fuss, didn't I? Albus did what I wanted, and now I'm suffering for it," he muttered crossly. Lupin squeezed his shoulders and pulled him back to lie against him again.

"I can fix it," Lupin said quietly after some time in silence. Snape thought he could sense some trepidation in the suggestion.

Snape regarded him with some confusion. "Well, why are you hesitant?"

"It's something I can do as part of my Claim to you. I never done it to you because ... well ... a man like you, Severus ... you may hate it."

Snape had moved away to look at Lupin again. His blue eyes looked concerned and possibly embarrassed. "Tell me," he said quietly.

"You know how I bite you to mark you?" Lupin said, somewhat shamefacedly. Snape nodded. "I like to touch those bites after I have made them. Those particular bites have magical properties. They are powerful. They are devastatingly attractive to me on you, but I could use them to exercise power over you if I touched them in a certain way."

"How?" Snape whispered, entranced.

"If I mouth them in a certain way, you would be more than dominated by me – you would be completely subsumed in me until I released you." Lupin said slowly, his eyes closing as he spoke, and Snape knew in that instant that Lupin had very much wanted to do this, but had refrained from making Snape powerless. It touched him.

"How will it help?" Snape said, aware his throat had become quite dry and, whether it was appropriate or not, he was feeling aroused, even through his headache and agonised core.

"It is called the Wolf's Kiss. It works exactly by overwhelming your physical and magical cores and immersing them in my own which, due to the curse, are very strong. It is ... oh dear ... a form not only controlling but rewarding the submissive, in fact, not unlike the Thrall," he looked pained as he looked directly at Snape, as if expecting to be hexed for such a suggestion. The irony wasn't lost on Snape that he had been the arbiter of Lupin's health under a curse, and now it appeared the Lupin could wield the same power through his own curse.

Snape sat for some time, looking at Lupin. He had seen the way Lupin reacted to the sight of his own bites; how they seemed to exert an extraordinarily strong fascination over him and he was always compelled to touch them, and now he understood a little more why.

This was the man who had freely allowed Snape into his mind on two occasions, one when Snape might well have wished to damage him. He had allowed Snape to bind him to deal with the wolf. Against his alpha nature, he let Snape take him, because he loved Snape and wanted to please him and reassure him. How could he not trust him? In fact, he couldn't deny that the Wolf's Kiss sounded to him like the pinnacle of the werewolf's Claim on him. He found himself wanting it but he wanted to understand something first; something that he was uniquely placed to understand.

"I've seen the way you look at those bites when you've made them," he said. "Let me see them through your eyes, Remus."

Lupin sat up so that Snape sat up facing him and found Snape's wand to pass to him. Lupin's legs were either side of Snape's body, and Snape's legs draped over his. Lupin took Snape's shirt off, and pushed his hair back, conjuring a tie to keep it out of the way. Snape rested his hands loosely on Lupin's thighs as Lupin drew the fingers of both hands along Snape's neck and shoulders, making him shiver. Lupin moved Snape's head to one side, elongating his neck and began to make those small sucking bites that just broke the skin bringing blood to the surface. He kissed the length of Snape's neck and shoulders on both sides, the front of his neck and his upper chest including his nipples, making his back arch and his head roll back to give Lupin easy access. It was immensely pleasurable for Snape on its own, making him sigh at the touches to all those sensitive places. When Lupin stopped, Snape opened his eyes to find Lupin looking at him, his eyes clouded with want.

"Do it now," Lupin whispered, his voice dry.

 _Legilimens_. Snape eased into Lupin's mind, and was immediately assailed with robust and hot desire. But it was more than that: it was primal, feral and completely lust-driven. It was smell, sight and sound. He would smell Snape as Lupin smelt him, when he was in hot, deep and musky desire; he heard the sound of his own breathing being sensual to Lupin. Snape put himself behind Lupin's eyes. What he saw was beyond anything he had experienced before. He looked at himself (although it was Snape through Lupin's eyes, who was singularly more attractive than Snape thought realistic). He saw the bites seeming to emanate waves of attraction. The bites were alluring, almost iridescent in the way they shimmered with an inherent promise of fulfilment, the promise that required a Kiss to activate.

In Lupin's body and mind, he felt that urge pulling him to Kiss those bites, to fulfil the promise they contained. He knew the satisfaction would be beyond imagining – he just had to lean in – just touch his tongue to those bites and his mate would be his, his without question, his as he wanted or demanded; wholly his and his alone. It was powerful. It was devastating. It was undeniable.

Snape pulled himself back, because Lupin pulled him back.

"Only if you want to," Lupin thought.

Snape pulled out gently from Lupin's mind, stunned by the power and attraction that the bites held. Stunned at Lupin's ability not to take advantage of them. "I trust you, Remus," he said softly.

Lupin started touching the bites with his fingers first, although Snape noted the slight tremor of excitement to Lupin's hands. Then very gently, he leaned in to Snape's neck and started to run his tongue over the first bite. The tongue was insistent and probing into the bite and the effect on Snape's skin was immediate and electric. A thrill shot down his neck to his groin, but the thrill then return with almost burning intensity to the skin on his neck.

Lupin moved on to the next bite. The same happened, desire accumulating in Snape's groin but the thrill returning to his neck covering more skin. Lupin continued down Snape's neck mouthing and tonguing bite after bite, and with each thrill, Snape started to feel that he only consisted of the thrill playing on his skin and the desire in his groin. The burning intensity of the thrill began to spreading faster across his skin. He started to lose awareness of his surroundings and felt his mind go out of focus.

He heard less and less sound by degrees, and his vision started to narrow and become dim at the edges, with those edges gradually closing in until Snape saw nothing, heard nothing, even thought nothing. He could only feel his nerve endings, each and every one of millions of nerves on fire, each and every one being played upon by the tip of Lupin's tongue and pulled to a heightened sense of joy.

It was pure bliss.

How long Snape was in this state of bliss, he could not have said. There was no sense of time passing. He started to become aware again because Lupin was calling him.

"Severus, my own love," he heard Lupin whisper hoarsely in his ear to release him, his voice deep with desire.

Then Snape began to hear more, and sense his own body again and his surroundings, very slowly until he suddenly heard his own sharp intake of breath as if awoken from a dream. He knew he was naked, spread wide, and Lupin was fully inside him, and he felt his body's desire impact him in its full force. He opened his eyes to see Lupin's eyes searching for him in his own. He was rolling gently into Snape, but oh so deeply. How long Lupin had been making love to him, he did not know, but he knew they were both building up and close to orgasm.

His skin was still electrified and every thrust of Lupin's not only stroked his nerve endings inside, but also the rest of his skin. He felt his own muscles clenching around Lupin's cock in a way they normally only did when he came, but they were pulling at and pulsing against Lupin, who was moaning Snape's name in an ecstasy of his own, wanting to be deeper. Lupin bent his head down to take one of the bites on Snape's nipple between his teeth, biting slightly and probing the hard nub with his tongue. It sent the Wolf's Kiss straight to his prostate as Lupin pushed in harder and it made Snape cry out. Lupin did that again and again, making Snape's cock shudder as well from the friction of the Wolf's Kiss, even though it was trapped under Lupin's body. He did it again, much harder this time, and Snape came hard, crying out as his orgasm was pulled from him by the intensity of the Kiss and waves of pleasure consumed him, and then Lupin pushed in deeply and hard to come himself, moaning Snape's name as he did so and holding him as close as he could.

It was so intense, Snape thought he might weep with the magnitude of it. Unbidden, the words slipped out, never to be retracted or erased.

"I love you, Remus."

Lupin kissed his lips gently. "My love," he whispered.

They lay together for hours in silence, holding each other seemingly in perfect understanding.

Snape was amazed that he had said the words out loud he had never said to anyone; the words he'd only ever even thought about saying to one other, apart from Lupin. This wasn't just about sex – although he felt as if Lupin loved him enough for a lifetime. He was amazed by the magic they could create between themselves whether through Snape's Legilimency skill and Lupin's profound trust in him to use it; or Lupin's curse and Snape's fundamental trust in him to use it. He certainly hoped Lupin would let him see that memory one day – combining their two magics - although he suspected they would need time to recover before they tried that.

They faced each other, looking at each other frankly. Snape wondered what Lupin was thinking, but didn't ask. If he asked, he then would have to tell his own thoughts and it had taken him months and living through extreme emotional trials before Snape had even managed to tell Lupin he loved him! How much harder would it be to tell him that the more time he spent with Lupin, the less he thought of himself as just the werewolf's mate (as wonderful as he found that), the more he thought of Lupin as Snape's soul mate. Everything about Lupin spoke to Snape's soul.

Perhaps – just perhaps - that he was considering a bonding of a different kind... _careful now – don't let your mind run away with you_ , he chided himself. He had never considered himself worthy of soul bonding, or that anyone could ever love him enough to bond with him. _Why not the Dark wizard and his werewolf?_ They were both considered Dark but they both sought to stay in the path of the Light against all the odds. Why should they not take that path together?

Finally, Lupin propped himself up on one elbow, and let his other hand rest on Snape's stomach.

"Did we fix it?" he said with a smile.

Snape's eyes widened in surprise. He'd been so transported by it all, he'd forgotten why Lupin had mentioned it in the first place. There was no pain in his core whatsoever, and he told Lupin so. It felt strong. In fact, it felt strengthened, presumably having been swathed and coated in Lupin's magic, enhanced by the Kiss. With his core healed by Lupin, he didn't find the headache so wearing. Perhaps, that would heal more quickly now. He hoped so.

* * *

It was early hours of the morning and they still lay on the drawing room floor, when Lupin started stroking Snape's hair. "Do you still wish me to sleep with you at night Severus?" he asked.

Snape was taken aback. Of course, this was the first night back in his quarters and the Thrall was gone. There was no Call for Lupin to answer. He could sleep in his own quarters now without being ill. A vague fluttering of upset appeared in Snape's stomach. Perhaps Lupin didn't want to spend his nights with Snape anymore. He'd feared this after all, hadn't he? But then, look at what they'd just done. Why would Lupin have done that? _Well, because he's just had you completely submissively, why wouldn't he?_ the sly part of his mind hissed to him and that part of his mind tugged at the malignancy in the unhealed Break.

"I hope you do, Severus," he then heard and felt the constriction in his gut release as quickly as it had started. He stood and took Lupin's hand to lead them to the bedroom, his mind buzzing angrily at how easily and quickly his mind had fallen into its old, self-destructive ways. He had to be careful. He may not be able to damage Lupin through the Thrall anymore, but he could damage his deepest desire. He had to be trusting. Surely, he could see now how his trusting Lupin had brought him such delight?

They lay down together and Snape murmured to Lupin's ear, "I cannot bear the thought of this bed without you, Remus." Lupin held Snape closer still, uttering a small moan of satisfaction.

* * *

Lupin had helped Snape to catch up with his planning and marking over the last couple of days. Snape took his Potions and did his meditation. The headache persisted but it was low level and he managed most things fairly well and, although Lupin slept in Snape's quarters every night, they were relatively restrained following their exertions with the Wolf's Kiss. That seemed to have satisfied them both quite profoundly and, Snape suspected that this was beneficial to healing his mind as he meditated every night, as instructed. His mind was also easy because he knew that Lupin stayed with him through his own choice and this made Snape's heart light.

However, after those first couple of days, Lupin and he were drawn to pleasing each other again but this morning, they had overslept, itself unusual for Snape, and it was the first day of classes after Easter, so gratification would have to wait. Or so Snape had mistakenly thought.

Lupin had gone to the Great Hall for breakfast, for the look of the thing, but Snape had taken his breakfast in his quarters to ensure he had everything he needed as he'd been so disorganised. With only half an hour to spare before his first class, Lupin arrived in his room to see how he was faring and Snape thought he was looking rather mischievous as Snape gathered the essays together for his first class.

Lupin advanced on him. "I believe we have unfinished business from this morning Severus," he said very quietly and meaningfully and pressed Snape against the wall, palming him until he was very aroused indeed.

"You can't do that to me before a class, Remus!" Snape fumed, very aware of his visible erection which even his robe had difficulty hiding.

"Do you wish me to take care of it?" Lupin asked slyly.

"Well, I can't go to my class of third years in this state," he howled indignantly.

Chortling, Lupin went on his knees before Severus and undid the robe's buttons from the bottom to his waist and pulled down Snape's trousers and gently took Snape's cock in his hands. He looked up provocatively as he flicked his tongue in the sensitive slit in the top.

"Why you..." Snape gasped. "Don't you tease me now..." he hissed, sounding outraged, and actually being fairly so that Lupin would do this so close to class hours.

Lupin grazed the head of Snape's erection with his teeth and then licked more fully.

"Why, Professor Snape," he said slyly, "I would have thought the sight of the Defence against the Dark Arts professor on his knees to service you would be one of your perfect moments."

Snape's eyes widened as he felt Lupin smile as he took of him quickly into his mouth and sucked so that Snape's breath was taken away. _Oh, two can play at this game, Remus._

"Professor Lupin, I don't want your opinions; just suck my cock," he did his level best to maintain his most severe countenance. It was difficult once his knees became weaker as Lupin licked and kissed the shaft firmly, looking up once and stopping to say:

"Of course, I realise I'm probably only second best to Gilderoy ..." he smiled ravishingly at Snape, who flinched at the very idea. Lupin knew how much Snape had despised that popinjay. "I dare say you had him on his knees at every opportunity."

"Only with a well aimed hex, I assure you. Now stop tormenting me, Remus," he growled, grasping Lupin's head firmly and starting to move into his mouth, now he could no longer maintain any equilibrium at all. Lupin encouraged him to take the initiative, and Snape began to buck into Lupin's warm and welcoming throat, Lupin humming his encouragement until Snape could contain himself no longer and came hard, growling Lupin's name and holding his head tightly as Lupin sucked and swallowed the last of his orgasm and held onto Snape as his knees weakened totally.

Lupin looked up and smiled as he re-arranged Snape's trousers and buttoned his robes, matter of factly. "Start the day as you mean to go on, Severus," he said with a smile.

"You're a menace," Snape growled, as Lupin cast a freshening charm on them both. Snape raised an eyebrow and Lupin tapped his nose. "Wolf sense of smell: bordello." Snape snorted.

"What about you?" Snape suddenly said, knowing classes were due to start shortly.

"I can wait," Lupin said. "Well, until lunchtime. Perhaps, an aperitif before lunch, Severus?" he whispered, smiling, in Snape's ear. _He'll kill me: death by sex, I'm sure of it._ Snape snorted at the thought as he swept out into the dungeon corridor affixing a menacing scowl to his satisfied features, Lupin leaving by Floo.

* * *

Lupin fell into step with Snape's long stride as Snape left his classroom. "Hello, Harry, Ron, Hermione," Lupin said as the golden trio came towards them in the opposite direction. "Oh, Severus, I wonder if you would accompany me to my office to discuss that Potion you gave me this morning? Lupin said mildly to Snape, a slight strain evident only to Snape tugging at the corners of Lupin's lips as they passed the children.

"Very well, Lupin," Snape said, his best expression of disdain in place as the children passed them, ensuring he sent them his best scowl in passing.

"He'll probably try to poison him, or choke him, he wants that job so badly," they heard Potter whisper dramatically.

Snape stole a quick look at Lupin who, with great difficulty, was struggling to maintain a serious countenance as they walked together.

"In fairness, you did nearly choke me ..." Lupin said softly just as they entered his quarters, and he warded the door as Snape glided to his knees before Lupin and took matters in hand to reciprocate before lunch.

* * *

"Are you happy with me, Severus," Lupin asked, rather disarmingly, when they had just finished a game of chess, before Snape was due to start his prescribed meditation.

"I've never been happier or more fulfilled," Snape said. The statement felt like it had the weight of a confession and he found himself embarrassed to say it, but when he looked at Lupin, he saw his statement had made his lover happy. Lupin stood to embrace him and then kiss his head, before sitting again at the table.

Then there was a small chuckle. "I notice this happiness and fulfilment does seem to improve your temper with the children," Lupin said mildly.

"My happiness and fulfilment does not stop them being complete dunderheads and endangering themselves and everyone around them! You may shag me senseless in these rooms, Remus, but I still have to have my wits about me every minute in that class room and around the school," Snape said dismissively.

"Minerva told me that you torture poor Neville in every class. As if he doesn't have enough to contend with that grandmother of his," Lupin noted, but still in the spirit of fun. "I heard you threatened to poison his familiar at the beginning of the year."

"Mr. Longbottom is a menace in my class room. Even if I undertook Remedial Potions with him, he would not improve. He does not have the temperament for Potions. I did not threaten to poison his familiar. I did, however, suggest trying his own youth potion on his familiar. Needless to say, he brewed it perfectly given the _appropriate_ ah ... incentive." He placed a delicate emphasis on that word. "Sometimes, a healthy fear is an appropriate teaching tool."

"No, Severus, that's outrageous," Lupin laughed in his shock. "And if I may say so, that story rather undermines your opinion that Neville could not improve. He did on that occasion."

"Only because Miss Granger hissed the instructions in his ear constantly throughout the lesson," said Snape drily.

"Oh, you mean, helped him to recall the instructions to produce a perfect potion ..." Lupin said challengingly.

"I don't believe I'm wrong," Snape said solemnly. "I understand he is an excellent student at Herbology, and recognises this for himself, which shows maturity and a grandmother like Augusta Longbottom, whilst fearsome, will instil pride and worth in him, I'm sure. I have no doubt, with her behind him, he will be more than a match for me by the end of his education here."

"Why Severus, I find it extraordinary that you would give Neville so much credit."

"I am not an unfair man. I see much. But I don't tend to reveal it."

"And do you think you're always right?" Lupin raised his eyebrows

"Are you trying to trap me, Remus?" Snape leaned back in his chair, folding his arms.

"I think you're wrong about Harry. I think you know it too. I know you look out for him to protect him from Sirius," Lupin said quietly, as if in possession of a secret.

"We must agree to differ on that score," he snapped, and his jaw set firmly. "I will do my duty as a teacher to protect Potter, as we all do, even though he does his best to thwart us at every turn, but that does not mean I have to like the child," he said dismissively, not looking at Lupin . He had his own reasons for protecting the boy that were not for Lupin to know, no matter how close they became.

"Very well," Lupin said softly, indicating the subject would be dropped. Snape knew his dislike of the boy hurt Lupin, but try as he might, he didn't not see the golden child that Lupin saw. He knew it was because the boy's father had been Lupin's much loved friend. But that was precisely the point, wasn't it.

"Will you return to teach here next year?" Snape changed the subject to one of more interest to him. Snape fervently hoped so. His life had become so comfortable with Lupin: he was cared for and had Lupin to care for in return and they shared remarkable magic. He felt whole for the first time.

"Severus, there is nothing I would like better. Imagine it: you and I, getting old together, buggering about in the dungeons here at Hogwarts – a fixture like Minerva or Albus. We could both grow our hair and beards and wear robes of periwinkle blue, like Albus!" Lupin laughed heartily.

"I will not hear of it!" Snape scowled, then smiled fondly at Lupin. "The only blue I would ever wear is midnight blue and never ..." he lowered his voice to speak, "... ever: periwinkle – or cyan – or cornflower – or baby – or azure – or cerulean – or celeste – or sky – or powder or turquoise or any other hue of blue whose name currently eludes me. Is that clearly understood?" He breathed deeply and folded his arms emphatically, as Lupin nodded and chuckled happily. Then Snape added as an afterthought, "And beards are unhygienic."

Lupin laughed, leaned forward and wrapped his hands over Snape's happily, but then his smile fell. "But we know the post is cursed. I often wonder how the curse will despatch me! Who knows what will happen, but if I can, I will. Wouldn't that be something?"

 _It would certainly be something_ , Snape thought. He wanted it very much. And it seemed that Lupin did too. His mind began to work furiously. What could happen? How could he prevent it? He so wanted Lupin to remain here with him. After all, Lupin had Claimed him and the Claim went soul-deep. They had deep magic together. They must be meant to be together. He was an intelligent and powerful wizard. He would watch for it. He would see the signs if they boded. He could prevent it: he was certain.

 


	21. Japes with Snape

Over the past couple of weeks, Snape and Lupin had had much to be pleased about. The Thrall was broken and now, following the first full moon since the unravelling of it, it was clear that Lupin's wolf and man had combined once again. He no longer felt fractured from the accursed beast, so he was more in control. It also meant that he did not feel had had to lock himself away from Snape for safety's sake. They had made a small ritual of destroying their workings and notes on the Thrall, except for those Snape wanted to work on the werewolf's blood lust and pain on transformation.

Snape was also discovering that Lupin, now the Thrall was gone, was still something of a prankster at heart. Being an oversexed werewolf, his pranks invariably involved some type of gentle sexual ambush of Snape.

The latest prank came after the much lamented Quidditch final, which saw Gryffindor finally wrest the Cup from Slytherin. Snape had presided over that Cup for many years in his office and he wasn't taking the loss well – not well at all. The staff had their own get-together in the staff room after dinner that evening. There had been much crowing by Minerva and Hagrid and there was no hiding Albus's pride in his golden Gryffindors' victory, especially that Potter had caught the snitch. But nothing – absolutely nothing – could have prepared him for the unalloyed joy that Lupin presented him with and was downright insufferable about the undoubted foul Malfoy had perpetrated on Potter. Snape may have conceded that under other circumstances, but as it was Potter, he was starting to feel rather cranky to be surrounded by so many Gryffindors on the staff so he pleaded his headache and left early.

Two hours later, Lupin joined him, clearly having imbibed freely and was highly mischievous and horny. Still grouchy, Snape said he'd rather wait until morning. Lupin laughed, but said, "On your own head be it, Severus." He took him into a huge, drunken embrace, kissed him soundly and then went to sleep. _Well, that backfired on me_ , Snape thought, who had secretly been open to persuasion.

The following morning, Snape awoke and took himself for a shower. Then just before he got under the hot water, he saw what Lupin had done. His pubic hair was Gryffindor crimson with one golden line down the centre. He was about to storm out of the shower, when he saw Lupin leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe, grinning broadly.

Snape strode over to him. "I suppose you think this is funny?" he gestured down to himself.

"I think it suits you Severus," Lupin chuckled. "My favourite colours on my favourite man, in honour of our victory."

"Well, if you think I'm going to beg you to turn it back, you can think again," Snape mumbled. "Idiotic pranking, fit for a school boy ... should know better ... at your age..." he muttered under his breath.

"Nothing would give me greater pleasure than for you to remain red and gold. You won't be able to remove it. Only my wand can lift the enchantment." Lupin was grinning hugely now. "It's quite advanced transfiguration, you know. A refined and honed skill to get the exact shade of red I desired, and only to lift under explicit circumstances. Hardly the work of a school boy. You do not respect my abilities, Severus," Lupin mock-chided, running a finger along his jaw.

Snape huffed and took himself back to the shower. "It won't make any difference to my day," he said wryly, as he turned on the water, determined to be a killjoy for the day after Gryffindor's victory.

"I suppose it could be a lesson in inter-House unity to your Slytherins at breakfast today," Lupin said, innocently.

"Well, I hardly think ..."

"Oh Severus, you should think ..." Lupin said mildly and then gestured to Snape's head, "after all, one must have matching collar and cuffs," Lupin laughed as Snape realised and grabbed a handful of his hair and stared in shock at the crimson locks.

"You win. You've had your fun. Transfigure me back." He stood under the shower looking balefully at Lupin. "Go on, get your wand." Lupin laughed heartily.

"Oh Severus, you know I love your eyes when you're angry with me. They blaze – it's really rather attractive," Lupin said, smiling hungrily as he joined him in the shower. "It not _that_ wand you need me to use ... and the circumstances are _explicit_ ," as he gently pressed Snape's back into the tiled wall and ran his hands through Snape's crimson hair.

Very clean and very satisfied, and without a hint of crimson or gold on either man, the men got dressed for breakfast some time later, Snape far less grouchy than before.

* * *

He was due for his third session with Healer Smethwyck today. He still bristled at the need for the sessions, but felt the benefit of them. He asked if the Healer still thought so many sessions were required. He did. They were not even half way through repairing the Break.

After the Healer left, Snape took out his two current projects. The first was his list of places for Lupin and him to visit in the summer, based on what Lupin had told him before, obviously starting with Cadr Idris. He looked at the list that both he and Lupin had been adding to and smiled. Summer holidays with Lupin. He had never looked forward to anything as much as this. When his Potions lessons were particularly trying and exhausting, he would run through their list instead of counting to ten to soothe him and hold on to his temper.

The second, by way of proper research was that part of the Thrall that had dealt with the werewolf's blood lust and pain on transformation. Snape had been working on this since the Thrall had been lifted. He hoped he could find a way to relieve werewolves of both these burdens. Imagine how easy Lupin's life would be without these. So far, they appeared inextricable from the Thrall, but he hoped when his mind was fully healed, he would be able to make real inroads on this.

* * *

The exams were drawing closer. Lupin was designing what appeared to be practical exams of mainly obstacle courses. Well, Snape supposed it was a good a way as any. After all, Potions exams were always practicals. In this respect, he did agree with Lupin: theory was only relevant if the witch or wizard was able to implement that which they had learnt.

They both had an inordinate amount of work to do and although his headaches seemed to become more insistent lately, Snape postponed his sessions with Healer Smethwyck for the period leading up to the exams. He had become adept at concealing the headaches from Lupin.

When finally the exams were over, all the staff could relax for another year. Lupin and Snape fell to discussing the various performances for his obstacle course with the company of a bottle of Firewhiskey.

Snape was particularly dismissive of Miss Granger's reaction to the boggart.

"But why should that bother you, Severus. She's just anxious to prove herself."

"Her need is almost pathological, Remus. I think she's quite psychologically disordered."

"Oh I don't think so. She's a Muggle-born who's anxious to do well, that's all. She takes her education far more seriously than any pureblood, because she knows she has everything to learn. You and I both know how difficult Muggle-borns find the experience of entering the wizarding world if they don't even have one parent to assist them, as you and I did."

Maybe Lupin had a point, but Snape didn't want to concede it, but he could see that Lupin saw it as a challenge.

"Come on Severus. Name me a pureblood that ever studies as hard as a Muggle-born."

"Well, maybe not a pureblood," he conceded. "But they all are singularly spoilt and entitled."

"You could hardly call the Weasleys spoilt and entitled, Severus!"

"Well, there are always exceptions to the rule, I suppose. Come to think of it, I had a friend in my House who was desperate for the teachers' approval, just like Miss Granger."

"Did I know him?"

"Your friend Black's brother, Regulus. Nothing like your friend – studious, hard-working and not an indulged bully."

He could see he'd rather taken Lupin by surprise: he looked shocked and hurt but then visibly recovered his humour.

"I only really met Regulus when we were much younger, before Sirius fell out with his family very badly. He always seemed like a good kid." His mouth pursed and then he spoke very quietly, as if turning it over in his mind, examining it. "Sirius was inconsolable when Reg became a Death Eater. Or we thought he was. And then, we were told Reg had tried to leave Voldemort's service and was killed but no-one could confirm anything. I've wondered many times since how Sirius was able to keep up such a front. I suppose, like you, he was a consummate spy."

"I have never been anything like Black," Snape spat, that tell-tale tug pulling at the Break again, and then he visibly softened. "I knew that Reg had tried to leave the Dark Lord's service and was never heard from again. I never found out what happened to him. I was very fond of him," he said sadly.

"Were you..."

"Lovers? No. He was the year below us and, believe it or not, Malfoy tried to give me to Regulus as, he called it, his man servant. Do you know, despite his young age, Regulus wasn't fazed by Malfoy and refused. One of the few purebloods I knew who wasn't a complete shit. We were good friends after that."

They both were lost in thought for a while. Then Snape asked, "Was Black ever your lover?" He immediately regretted asking the question, because he didn't really want to know.

"No, not really," Lupin answered anyway. "A couple of drunken incidents when we were young. It would have been all too easy, but we were friends first and foremost and, frankly, Sirius was far too licentious for me. I don't share," Lupin snorted an odd small laugh. There was no real mirth in it. He helped himself to a very large refill. "To this day, I cannot believe what he did to James and Lily, and to Peter. I simply can't believe it."

"Well, he did it," Snape snapped. "Destroyed all three of them utterly. I hope they find him and feed him to the Dementors," he hissed spitefully, feeling that odd tug on the Break again.

Lupin sighed heavily and drank from his glass again.

"I lost everything in that one night," he whispered. "I know you hated them, Severus, but they were all I had. My parents had died when I was a teenager and I had no brothers or sisters. There were just the four of us, plus Lily and little Harry: that was my family, those people who loved me for who I was. Who could possibly have foreseen that all would be lost that night and that one of us would be to blame?" Lupin looked terribly sorrowful.

Snape's stomach churned. It was all well and good blaming Black, but would he ever have the courage to tell Lupin of his part in the betrayal of Lily and therefore of Lupin's friend? How would Lupin ever forgive him for that, when he could not forgive himself?

"Why were you not chosen as their Secret Keeper?" he deflected.

"We knew there was a traitor in the Order. I believe I was suspected. It made sense the Secret Keeper should be Sirius, since they didn't accept Albus's offer."

"Why would they suspect you, Remus? Because you're a werewolf? I thought they saw through that," Snape said scornfully.

"Don't be like that Severus," Lupin said, clearly hurt. "There were reasons. I was sent to run with the wolves – different feral werewolf packs that hadn't yet affiliated with Greyback and Voldemort – to try to get them to join our cause. It wasn't a happy time for me. Perhaps, they had good reason to doubt me – perhaps it had too much of an effect on my personality."

"Who sent you to do that?" Snape asked, knowing the answer.

"Albus."

"Of course. Who else would put you in danger so easily, and who else would you obey so readily ?" Snape said, dangerously.

"Severus!" Lupin chided.

"And were you hurt with them? Did he allow that too?" Snape said insistently.

"Yes," Lupin answered quietly. "Sometimes, I was badly hurt. But how was it different to what you did for us? How is Dumbledore more to blame, because he asked me to assist in obtaining us allies?"

"I know what I had to go through, Remus. I can well imagine what you went through also. It is different for me: I chose the Dark Lord's service, then offered my service as spy to Dumbledore. You did not choose to be a werewolf. He should not have used you so." Snape found himself very angry that Dumbledore had sent Lupin to run with the wolves – the feral werewolves who were so unlike Lupin, not gentle, or clever or witty – but men and women who embraced and gloried in their inner beast.

Lupin took Snape in his arms firmly and kissed the side of his face. "Because I did not choose to be a werewolf does not mean you deserved the hell you went through as a spy any more than I did, Severus." Snape grasped Lupin's arm.

"I had much to atone for," Snape said, his voice rough, "and still do, but let's talk no more of that. I will not speak of that." That infernal tug at his mind nagged again. He suddenly found that he wished he hadn't drunk so much.

"Let's go to bed, Remus," he said, a little shakily. "Although I admit I'm a bit the worse for wear."

Lupin stood, and was none too steady either but they propped each other up to the bedroom.

Once in bed, Snape, still disinhibited through drink, asked, "Have you ever given any other lover the Wolf's Kiss, Remus?"

"Only once," he said lightly. "And then I didn't really know what it was. It was with my first lover, a seventh year Ravenclaw. I just followed by instinct, and well ... you see what happens. I was so shocked by my own reaction to it, as well as his, I always try to subdue it."

"Your reaction? What reaction do you have?" Snape asked. He knew it was extraordinary, but nothing that was upsetting.

"You could feel and see for yourself, if you wanted to," Lupin said, looking rather encouragingly at Snape, clearly hoping for the opportunity to relive it.

Snape smiled. He had hoped for this very much. It had been an extraordinary experience for him certainly. He retrieved his wand and they faced each other.

_Legilimens._

Lupin's mind: so warm and inviting.

They found the memory of themselves facing each other, with their legs interlaced. They watched as _MemoryRemus_ bound _MemorySeverus_ 's hair and made his bites to a very willing recipient and then watched as _Severus_ entered _Remus_ 's mind to see the attraction of the bites and then leave again. Snape recalled the feral power of them well.

They saw _Remus_ start to touch the bites, and Snape joined _Remus_ at this point to feel what he felt.

He felt emanations of raw desire flood into his fingertips as they touched each bite flowing thoughout his body powerfully. He felt _Remus_ run his tongue over the first bite. At the first touch of his tongue, a powerful lust jolted through his mouth, and fired down the jaw and neck nerves straight down to his groin. It was stunning and made Snape gasp with its power. Each and every touch of _Remus's_ tongue on the bites he had created swelled his desire to fever pitch. Snape wasn't at all sure how Lupin could bear it.

He saw himself arch backwards quite extremely, almost as if unconscious and knew this was when he had been overcome with bliss. Then _Remus_ cast a suspension charm to hold _Severus_ in place so he did not fall back.

Snape became aware that _Remus_ 's wolf was chiding him subconsciously to take Snape now that he was fully submissive – to shaft him hard to see how pliable he could be; to be true to his nature and take the submissive without mercy. He felt _Remus_ 's resistance to the wolf. He felt _Remus_ 's determination to carry on resisting the wolf. Snape marvelled at _Remus_ 's purpose of mind. He was feeling _Remus_ 's body and it was screeching its desire through every nerve and fibre, and its desire was being frenzied by the Kiss.

Lupin and Snape sat within _Remus_ for over an hour – a feat of sheer endurance as far as Snape was concerned considering the overwhelming desire that swamped _Remus_ , who instead of caving to what his body clearly desired to take _Severus_ very hard indeed, carried on applying the Kiss to the bites as _Severus_ floated in his state of bliss, stroking _Severus's_ body in all the ways he had learnt that Snape adored _._

"How do you manage to resist this? I've never felt anything so powerful," Snape asked.

"It's very hard to resist, but it helped that we were trying to heal your core. It was important to Kiss you as long as I could. I admit," Lupin chuckled, sending that marvellous resonance though his body, "it was terribly difficult towards the end. I thought I'd split in two!"

Then _Remus_ could clearly resist no more, and, holding _Severus_ up, removed the suspension charm and laid _Severus_ flat and spelled away _Severus's_ trousers and his own clothes. Still caressing him, and intermittently Kissing the bites, _Remus_ ran his fingers down to _Severus's_ opening. It needed no preparation at all, but was wet and hot. As _Remus_ pushed in one finger, _Severus's_ muscles clenched around them greedily, pulling the finger in. Snape gasped at the feel of it and he felt Lupin reel at the recollection of it, but _Remus_ remained restrained and gently spread _Severus's_ legs wide to admit him. He slid into him as gently as he could, moaning all the way and then he called to _Severus_ to bring him back to him, felt his reluctance to take him without his being part of it. _Of course, Remus would never want to take me against my will or unconsciously_. "Severus, my own love."

He saw himself come to his senses and remembered how extraordinary the immediate impact of that desire had felt upon him – a desire he now understood that _Remus_ had been building upon for an hour. He felt _Remus's_ desire get even thicker as soon as _Severus_ looked into his eyes as he rolled into _Severus_ trying to get as deep as possible to satisfy his self-imposed restraint. At this point, it began again: that extraordinary feeling of experiencing his own reactions, but also Lupin's as well. Given these were also magically charged reactions, Snape thought he might well, as Lupin put in, split in two.

He felt again his own skin had felt electrified and every thrust of _Remus_ 's stroking his nerve endings inside, but also the rest of his skin. Now he also felt _Remus_ feeling _Severus's_ own muscles clenching around _Remus's_ cock constantly, pulling at and pulsing against him. Snape felt _Remus's_ ecstasy explode in him and desperation to be deeper within _Severus_ , moaning _Severus's_ name. It made both Snape and Lupin moan together anew. _Remus_ bent his head down to bite and tongue his nipple, and it drove _Severus_ wild, but now he also felt those extraordinary jolts of desire travel through _Remus's_ skin to his cock, hardening him painfully to take him deeper into _Severus._

It was extraordinarily erotic and both he and Lupin were finding it hard to resist and both knew they were building their own orgasms on this extraordinary shared memory of the Wolf's Kiss sharing each other's feeling, physical and emotional. He felt _Remus_ do this another three times until _Severus_ and _Remus_ and also they both came hard and intensely. Then he felt _Remus's_ joy when he told him he loved him and they left the memory together and let their thoughts float together randomly for a while.

"Thank you for telling me," Lupin thought. Snape felt Lupin's joy still very evident.

"Well, it's true," Snape thought, although he felt slightly foolish.

"It was wonderful to hear."

Snape withdrew reverentially from Lupin's beloved mind and they lay together for hours thinking their own thoughts before sleep took Lupin first. Snape watched him sleep.

One of the wonders of being with Lupin was how Snape was constantly re-evaluating his life and opinions.

He was considering his skill at Legilimency. He had worked on it as a craftsman should, practising and honing the skill together with its stable-mate, Occlumency. Until Lupin, he had only ever used it for Dark purposes: to invade the minds of others for information or for torture. It was a uniquely unpleasant mode of torture, as he himself knew to his cost.

And yet, he was using it with Lupin as a means for them to heighten their sexual and emotional pleasure and trust with each other. That there could have been such a use for it, Snape would not previously have credited. But he thought now, he could never use what had become sacred to his love of Lupin to invade or hurt the mind of another again.

He looked at the moon through his small window, and then back at the man who shared his life now. He would lie with his love tomorrow morning, but then it would be full moon tomorrow night and he willed it to pass quickly so the nights would be theirs once more.

* * *

**_Moondance_ **

_© Van Morrison_

_Well, it's a marvelous night for a moondance  
With the stars up above in your eyes  
A fantabulous night to make romance  
'Neath the cover of October skies_

_And all the leaves on the trees are fallin'_   
_To the sound of the breezes that blow_   
_An' I'm trying to please to the callin'_   
_Of your heart strings that play soft and low_

_And all the nights magic seems to whisper and hush_   
_And all the soft moonlight seems to shine in your blush_   
_Can I just have one more moondance with you, my love?_   
_Can I just make some more romance with you, my love?_

_Well, I wanna make love to you tonight_   
_I can't wait 'til the morning has come_   
_And I know now the time is just right_   
_And straight in to my arms you will run_

_And when you come, my heart will be waiting_   
_To make sure that you're never alone_   
_There and then, all my dreams will come true, dear_   
_There and then, I will make you my own_

_And every time I touch you, you just tremble inside_   
_And I know how much you want me that you can't hide_   
_Can I just have one more moondance with you, my love?_   
_Can I just make some more romance with you, my love?_


	22. The Return of Padfoot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes from Chapters 18 - 19 are in bold and are © J.K. Rowling

Lupin was pale this morning. Tonight would be the full moon, and Snape could see it already drawing on Lupin's body. The moon was a harsh mistress for Lupin. Lupin was a strong, agile man until the full moon, when his strength was sapped by the transformation to come and recovering from it. In some ways, Snape enjoyed this time taking care of Lupin, usually so self-sufficient and strong. Snape drew a bath for them to ease Lupin's muscles and joints. It wouldn't be long before he would leave him for the day for his classes until he brought his Wolfsbane and he wanted to make the most of time with him before his transformation. He had got to know that Lupin's transformations were affected by his mood, so he did his best to keep him calm and happy (as much as Lupin's own deteriorating temper on that day would allow).

Snape found he was still very affected by how much joy Lupin had felt when Snape had told him he loved him. He had felt it extremely strongly in Lupin's mind last night. He had only ever seen that statement as making himself vulnerable, not that it could ever delight the recipient. It was all a wonder to him. He washed himself and then Lupin gently as he turned these thoughts over in his head, Lupin leaning back on him, trusting him.

Once dried, Snape went to fetch their clothes. Lupin's clothes now all hung in Snape's wardrobe, next to his. He looked at them crossly and wondered why Lupin had not bought himself better from his stipend at the school. He would never ask or comment. He knew what it felt like to be clothed so poorly. He suspected Lupin saved his money, anxious for when the day came that he would be out of work again because of his curse. He hoped again, Lupin would stay on so his lot would improve in life and he would be confident enough to spend his own earnings. He found the best robe and trousers he could and then retrieved his own. Turning around, he found Lupin had returned to bed.

"Come along, lazy bones. You can't sleep all day," he smiled.

"No intention of sleeping Severus," Lupin returned his smile. "I would like you to come back to bed and make love to me."

 _Well, here it was_. This is what Snape had hoped for. He had not taken Lupin since the Thrall had been broken, except when he had shared Lupin's mind that time. He had not asked and was too concerned he would be rejected if he did. But here Lupin was, waiting for him in bed, asking him.

Trying to contain himself, he put his armful of clothes down on the chair very carefully and moved over to the bed and sat next to Lupin who placed his arms around his waist and his head on his lap looking up at Snape, his face gentle, and wan.

"Are you not too weak? What about your pain?"

"Oh, I think I'd like you to be gentle with me, Severus. What better to deal with pain, than pleasure? Lupin replied softly.

Snape disengaged Lupin from himself and laid him back on the pillows and lay down next to him, and they kissed gently and deeply, letting their hands search and stroke each others' bodies.

All Snape knew this morning as he looked at Lupin's body before him was that he wanted to love every part of Lupin, as he deserved for making him feel so loved.

He sat up next to him, and leaning over started to kiss and stroke him languidly from his feet, to his ankles, taking in his calves and knees, moving on to caress and suckle his thighs, then hip bones, listening to Lupin's soft, encouraging sighs becoming moans as his feelings intensified. His hands caressed Lupin's genitals softly as his mouth played on Lupin's navel and the rest of his stomach, up his chest and across and down his arm to his hand and each of his fingers and moving slowly to match the other side, then trailing his tongue and kisses around all of his neck until back to his face, to kiss him deeply once more and then said, "Turn over."

"I want to see you," Lupin whispered, hoarsely.

"You will. Trust me," Snape said softly.

Lupin turned. Snape started to stroke Lupin's broad back. He admired it as he stroked. He had always had Lupin's back to his chest when he took him before – he had never really had the opportunity to attend to him. He was enjoying his exploration of Lupin's body as much as he could hear Lupin was. He kissed and licked down Lupin's spine as his hands and fingers stroked his skin, making Lupin moan all the more loudly.

He reached Lupin's backside and ran his hands over Lupin's cheeks, slowly pulling them apart so that his tongue could continue its journey down Lupin's spine until it gently circled Lupin's opening. Lupin moaned loudly at the feel of it, almost crying out when Snape then pushed his tongue in. He savoured Lupin's reaction, and repeated the gentlest intrusion slowly, over and over, whilst one of his hands travelled under his own body to lightly stroke his perineum to increase Lupin's delight whilst the other hand ghosted up and down Lupin's spine. Lupin was moaning incessantly and grasping at the pillow beneath his head until he could bear it no more.

"Please, Severus, please. Fill me up," he panted. Snape squeezed his eyes shut. They were very words he yearned to hear Lupin say. He slowed his pace to a gradual halt and then lovingly turned Lupin onto his back.

Snape moved over Lupin's body still slowly, and between his legs, his fingers questing for Lupin's opening. Lupin was more than ready, but Snape wanted to feel him on his fingers too, so played them into Lupin in the way he knew would make Lupin need him more. In and out, he played his fingers, as Lupin's moans turned to cries and he writhed in need under Snape's knowing hand. Snape wanted him so badly his lower body was almost knotted in desire, but he adored watching Lupin writhe under him, watching his face, and listening to him now almost babbling his desire for him, saying Snape's name over and over again, his hands pulling now to bring Snape's body closer.

He lowered himself, and slowly eased himself into Lupin. Oh, it was glorious to feel Lupin's tightness making friction against his cock and to listen to Lupin's rasping cries as he entered him slowly and gradually moved in and out of him slowly, gently and deeply. Lupin was now so in need, he no longer cared for gentleness and thrust against Snape to drive him deeper into himself whilst grasping his own cock and pacing with their thrusts. Snape responded, thrusting harder and deeper now, listening to Lupin's cries as Snape hit Lupin's prostate over again, Snape's own mind now no more than the burning desire of his groin mirrored in his mind. All that mattered to him now was their passion and to hear their cries in unison. They thrust at each other and Lupin raised himself on one elbow and bent his head to the bites that now always had their place on Snape's neck, chest and stomach. He nipped and tongued one on Snape's nipple, being the most powerful, and Snape felt mighty surges hit his groin and his cock hardened painfully making his thrusts deeper, and making Lupin's muscles clench and pulse over his cock, glorious and irresistible, pulling him to his ferocious and unstoppable orgasm as Lupin came too, calling his name, over and over again.

Snape, breathless and hardly focused, lowered himself as gently as he could onto Lupin, and kissed him gently. He whispered that he loved him into Lupin's ear, as if a deeply confidential secret. Lupin kissed him and said, "Severus, my own love," into Snape's hair.

As they lay together, Snape wondered at them once more. They had been in a Thrall, where they had experienced a sexual vortex of the most extraordinary power; they had combined their magics to produce profound mind magic that provided them with such sexual release that either had ever known; and yet, nothing really could compare with their natural love-making – their own passion, their own physical exertions – the truth of who they were and what they meant to each other.

Snape considered himself very lucky to have found a soul mate like Remus Lupin.

* * *

The classes all day had been nothing but trying. Many of the children were distracted by the impending execution of the Hippogriff and Snape found his headache had worsened throughout the day quite dramatically and he felt it tugging at the Break more regularly than usual. He had to take more care of it, or there'd be no holiday for him and Lupin.

He saw the arrival of the deputation to execute the Hippogriff. Snape felt for Hagrid: he doted on all of the creatures he tended and this manifest injustice would hit him hard. Trust Malfoy to be a chip off his blasted father. He had no doubt his erstwhile father had greased many palms with many galleons to ensure the creature was put down. _Such mindless cruelty_ , Snape thought, shaking his head. He pinched his nose. His headache really was bad today. He would be able to do his meditation tonight as Lupin would be transformed in his office. First, he had to deliver the Wolfsbane and wish him luck.

He entered Lupin's office with the Wolfsbane, but Lupin wasn't there. He was about to enter his private quarters when he noticed the Marauder's Map on Lupin's desk. It was still revealed. He had a quick look, and what he saw stopped his heart and his breath, and his headache began to pound more loudly, tugging violently at the Break.

Lupin's dot was moving swiftly down the tunnel under the Whomping Willow towards the Shrieking Shack.

_But why? Why would he go there? Clearly running – why?_

The answer hit him like a bolt between the eyes.

_Black._

_He's going to meet Black at their old rendezvous!_ his sly voice screamed at him. _His former lover – ha! Still meeting him in the grounds at the full moon._

He turned and ran from the room towards the main doors. He didn't think to transfigure the goblet into a flask, because all thoughts for the welfare of Lupin suddenly vanished as the tug became so powerful that the Dark, malignant rift cleaved open, and the black bile of his untrusting soul erupted from its maw, unrestrained and magnified, to tarnish and rot every loving thought he had ever had of the man, Lupin.

He ran out into the grounds to the Whomping Willow.

 _He had told Dumbledore – he had known what Lupin was!_ his mind shouted at him accusingly. _If Malfoy hadn't been so idiotic with his curse, Snape would not have been ensnared and would have retained his impartiality. He would not have been fooled._

He found a cloak at the base of the tree. _Potter's invisibility cloak. Good._ He grabbed it then picked up the broken branch to immobilise the tree and crept through the tunnel, his rationality slowly dissolving in the acid of jealousy, insecurity and obsession, fed by the Darkness of the Break, uttering foul oaths and imprecations against both Lupin and Black as he donned the cloak.

He reached the Shack and crept up the stairs and stood on the landing outside a room where he heard voices. He was right: he could hear Lupin and, yes, yes, it was – it was Black's voice. It may have been hoarse, but Snape would know it anywhere. He'd had nightmares about that voice taunting him for years.

He pushed the door open with his foot and stood to one side. Lupin obviously heard it and came out to check the landing and then returned back in. Snape took in the scene. Black, filthy in Azkaban rags, gaunt, his matted hair grown down to his waist – barely a remnant of the tall pureblood patrician Black had once been. Lupin and Black together. _Together,_ his embittered mind repeated over and over. Potter, Granger and Weasley – how had Lupin and Black managed to lure them here? _What Darkness did that creature use to beguile them here? How will Albus explain this, I wonder._

He listened with mounting disgust to Lupin telling the children about his school days and transformations. Why was he bothering with this? Trying to lull them into some kind of false sense of security. He could see Black wanted it all over and done with. That much was clear.

The malignant bile, as black as pitch, had infiltrated his mind fully now, corrupting everything he heard and saw with its Darkness, vexing and torturing his soul.

Lupin carried on. _But what was that I just heard? Animagi? All three. That's how Black got into the castle! I understand the trick of it now. So, Potter a stag. The child's Patronus. The werewolf's shock at seeing it at the Quidditch match. And he wouldn't tell me. Now I see, yes, now I see, Lupin. Pettigrew a rat. Black a dog. A dog. A dog. A dog. Oh the travesty of my idiocy not to know what Lupin was. He and Black – running together in the moonlight. Rutting in the moonlight. He lied! Of course, he lied. From the start. About everything._ His stomach was roiling and he desperately wanted to vomit, but didn't want to give himself away. His chest, his chest hurt, it burned - his heart hurt.

He heard how the four would run in the Forbidden Forest at the full then he heard Granger:

" **That was still really dangerous! Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you'd given the others the slip, and bitten somebody?"**

" **A thought that still haunts me," said Lupin heavily.** " **And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless — carried away with our own cleverness.**

 _Laughed about them. Laughed about the near misses! LAUGHED!_ Snape's mind roared at him. _That foul creature swore on his magic he had not been on it. He swore to me – ON HIS MAGIC! And I believed him._ Snape's mind was now so overwrought in the extreme that that his whole world view turned blood red like his resurrected rage and he was overwhelmed with malice.

He listened to the werewolf excusing his abject failure to warn Dumbledore that Black was an animagus, admitting his cowardice as if it would somehow absolve him. Well, he was onto that particular trick of the beast's now.

He listened as Lupin admitted that he, Snape, had been right about him all along. Listened as Black asked what Snape was doing here and Lupin advising him he was teaching here. That they hadn't liked each other very much – _HA!_ Listened as he told those children how he, Snape, had been jealous – JEALOUS! – of James bloody Potter! _No understanding at all! Jealous of a Quidditch player – hardly! Hated the pureblood bully more like._ _No sticking up for me with any of them, like the beast had promised. Of course not. Another lie to ensnare and trap me._ The insults he felt were like body blows to him – twisting his guts and feeding his irrationality.

Then the beast told the children – those blasted children of all children – how Black had tricked him into the passage to see Lupin transform and how Potter had pulled him out " **at great risk to his life**." _How dare the beast tell the children that lie? He had no right!_

_Black. He would have him now. He would have his vengeance on Black and on the werewolf._

_Oh, he had been such a fool. A stupid dupe. A needy and pathetic sap thinking he needed anyone in his life. A weak sop to kind words and a pliable, weak-minded john for a expertly whoring werewolf, tricking him to get Black into the castle._

_Enamoured of a Dark creature. How was he stupid enough to trust a creature of the Dark? All they could do was lie – foul and duplicitous beasts. Now was the time to make himself known ..._

He heard Potter say, " **So that's why Snape doesn't like you, because he thought you were in on the joke?"**

" **That's right," Snape sneered from behind Lupin.**

 **Snape was pulling off the Invisibility Cloak, his wand pointing directly at Lupin,** his mind now completely demented by his own irrational fears and rage **.**

" **I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow," said Snape, throwing the cloak aside, careful to keep this wand pointing directly at Lupin's chest.**

" **Very useful, Potter, I thank you…" Snape was slightly breathless.** " **You're wondering, perhaps, how I knew you were here?" he said, his eyes glittering.** " **I've just been to your office, Lupin. You forgot to take your potion tonight, so I took a gobletful along. And very lucky I did… lucky for me, I mean. Lying on your desk was a certain map. One glance at it told me all I needed to know. I saw you running along this passageway and out of sight."**

" **Severus —" Lupin began, but Snape overrode him.** Snape knew it was imperative that Lupin not speak. He must never let the beast speak to him again – it would all be lies and Snape himself could no longer distinguish truth from lie - best not allow the beast to speak.

" **I've told the headmaster again and again that you're helping your old friend Black into the castle, Lupin, and here's the proof. Not even I dreamed you would have the nerve to use this old place as your hideout —"**

" **Severus, you're making a mistake," said Lupin urgently. "You haven't heard everything — I can explain — Sirius is not here to kill Harry —"** Whatever the beast said now would just be more lies to cover for himself and Black. No, he would not listen.

" **Two more for Azkaban tonight," said Snape, his eyes now gleaming fanatically** his reason utterly lost in the Dark malignancy of his fractured mind **.** " **I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this… He was quite convinced you were harmless, you know, Lupin… a _tame_ werewolf —" **

" **You fool," said Lupin softly. "Is a schoolboy grudge worth putting an innocent man back inside Azkaban?"**

 _Fool I've been indeed,_ Snape's mind yelled at him. _Well, no more, beast!_

In that instant Snape's eyes met Lupin's, and Snape slashed jaggedly into Lupin's mind and carved his hatred savagely into it:

 _You are a loathsome, foul, duplicitous beast. How did I ever let such a putrid, dirty animal touch me, let alone mark me? You are no better than a whore to allow me to break you and to service me so you can help your bitch Black. No more! I will feed you to the Dementors, half-breed, sub-human filth._ He heard Lupin's mind scream at the pain of the carving; a carving that would be indelible; piercing pain that would never dull, and would sear like vitriol.

And in that same instant -

**BANG!**

**Thin, snakelike cords burst from the end of Snape's wand and twisted themselves around Lupin's mouth, wrists, and ankles; he overbalanced and fell to the floor, unable to move.**

Black roared at him but **Snape pointed his wand straight between Black's eyes.**

" **Give me a reason," he whispered. "Give me a reason to do it, and I swear I will."** It would only have taken one word at that point, as Snape veered between heart break and righteous rage and had little reason left to judge which was the true emotion that he felt.

 **"Professor Snape — it wouldn't hurt to hear what they've got to say, w-would it?"** he heard Granger ask.

" **Miss Granger, you are already facing suspension from this school," Snape spat.** " **You, Potter, and Weasley are out-of-bounds, in the company of a convicted murderer and a werewolf. For once in your life, _hold your tongue_." **

" **But if — if there was a mistake —"**

" **KEEP QUIET, YOU STUPID GIRL!" Snape shouted.** " **DON'T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!"** His head hurt – it hurt so badly. His heart hurt – it was broken. He had to keep strong – keep focused on what mattered: getting Black to the Dementors – to pay – he needed to pay. The pain would go if Black paid.

**A few sparks shot out of the end of his wand, which was still pointed at Black's face.**

" **Vengeance is very sweet," Snape breathed at Black. "How I hoped I would be the one to catch you…"**

" **The joke's on you again, Severus," Black snarled. "As long as this boy brings his rat up to the castle. I'll come quietly…"**

" **Up to the castle?" said Snape silkily. "I don't think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the Dementors once we get out of the Willow. They'll be very pleased to see you, Black… pleased enough to give you a little kiss, I daresay…"** That pleased him very well. Why should he do anything that Black wanted. _Yes, look at the colour leave his filthy face._

" **You — you've got to hear me out," he croaked. "The rat — look at the rat —"** _Beg me, it will make no difference._ Snape was now quite **beyond reason.**

" **Come on, all of you," he said. He clicked his fingers, and the ends of the cords that bound Lupin flew to his hands. "I'll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the Dementors will have a kiss for him too —"**

He glared malevolently at the man who, just this morning, had been the most precious and prized thing in his life. _Does he even have soul, this beast?_ he thought madly to himself.

Potter then **crossed the room in three strides and blocked the door.**

" **Get out of the way, Potter, you're in enough trouble already," snarled Snape. "If I hadn't been here to save your skin —"**

" **Professor Lupin could have killed me about a hundred times this year,"** Potter **said.** " **I've been alone with him loads of times, having defence lessons against the Dementors. If he was helping Black, why didn't he just finish me off then?"**

" **Don't ask me to fathom the way a werewolf's mind works," hissed Snape. "Get out of the way, Potter."**

" **YOU'RE PATHETIC!"** the brat **yelled. "JUST BECAUSE THEY MADE A FOOL OF YOU AT SCHOOL YOU WON'T EVEN LISTEN —"**

" **SILENCE! I WILL NOT BE SPOKEN TO LIKE THAT!" Snape shrieked.** He was fast becoming completely unhinged. His heart was hurting, but he knew – he just knew – that everything the beast had told him was lies and he had to remain strong – he mustn't listen to his heart – his heart only hurt him in the end.

It always did.

 **"Like father, like son, Potter! I have just saved your neck; you should be thanking me on bended knee! You would have been well served if he'd killed you! You'd have died like your father, too arrogant to believe you might be mistaken in Black** — **now get out of the way or I will make you. GET OUT OF THE WAY, POTTER!"**

Bursts of light from three directions. Blackness once more.

* * *

Snape came to, uncomfortably sprawled across the grass just out of reach of the Whomping Willow. He was groggy and had grazes across his forehead, but couldn't recall how these had happened. Potter had hexed him, he was sure, but as to how he had got here, he had no idea.

He got to his feet shakily. Weasley was unconscious next to him, his leg very badly bitten. Black had done that in his animagus form. Where were they all?

Snape looked about him, but could see no-one else, but his eyes fell on Lupin's ripped and torn clothes just a few feet away. The beast had transformed and without his final dose of Wolfsbane! He looked about himself quickly again and then heard the werewolf howl in the distance in the Forbidden Forest. He looked down again and saw both his and Lupin's wands within a few feet of each other. He picked up his own and then put Lupin's in his robe. _I dare say they'll wish to snap that in two before the Wizangamot,_ he thought darkly to himself with a small, malicious smile, fingering the stave that marked the wizard, not the wolf, of Lupin. _Not for much longer._

He went back to check on Weasley. He saw his bitten leg had been put in a splint already, so he cast a cleansing charm on the wound and conjured a stretcher for him. Then he noticed the desperate chill in the air. Looking around he saw droves of Dementors hovering over the lake. Black? Possibly. But where were Potter and Granger? He had to find them too. As he went to move to the lake, his wand outstretched before him, he saw the droves of Dementors begin to leave the lake and take to the skies above. Levitating Weasley, he reached the lakeside and found Black, Potter and Granger, all passed out. What could have happened, he did not know, but he had them all now. He conjured stretchers for the three of them and bound and gagged Black, with gleeful malice.

He would deal with the beast in the morning but for now he had Black.

Black – Lily's murderer and his own tormentor - was in his hands at last – _at last_ , his mind thought in something like catharsis as he took them all to the castle.

 


	23. Treachery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes from Chapters 18 - 22 are in bold and are © J.K. Rowling  
> Again, included because why change what she wrote perfectly?

When Snape got back to the school with his bounty, his mind was becoming calmer and he was mastering and harnessing his pain to give him purpose. He had Black and vengeance was, indeed, sweet. He had the golden trio as well: out past curfew and putting themselves directly in harm's way. Frankly, there could be no good reason for them not to be suspended this time. _Oh, except that they were Albus's golden Gryffindors. There was always that,_ Snape thought sourly.

He had no intention of letting Dumbledore meddle in his revenge. He knew Fudge was still with Dumbledore in his office following the execution of the Hippogriff. He sent his Patronus to Poppy, Filius, Pomona and Minerva. Poppy took charge of the children and the other three Heads of House took charge of Black and locked him in Filius's office. In the meantime, he went to Dumbledore's office.

He took enormous pleasure in announcing his capture of Black to the Minister in front of Dumbledore, advising him how he had followed Lupin to an old school haunt where they had captured and Confunded Potter, Weasley and Granger. He saw Dumbledore sit back in his chair and watch him appraisingly over his half moon glasses. Yes, Snape could imagine Dumbledore was seething – Snape was right about Lupin and Black and it was Snape who had saved the day.

"Well, that's extraordinary," exclaimed Fudge. "We must go to see the children at once." Fudge bustled to the door, followed by a surprisingly calm Dumbledore. "I will send Macnair to fetch the Dementors. We should have the Kiss administered at midnight."

"Severus, do show Cornelius the way," Dumbeldore said mildly. "I will ensure Mr. Black is safely secured." Snape narrowed his eyes. _Collude with him somehow, more likely,_ he thought.

Snape led the way to the hospital wing, the Minister talking all the time.

" **Shocking business… shocking… miracle none of them died… never heard the like… by thunder, it was lucky you were there, Snape…"**

" **Thank you, Minister."**

" **Order of Merlin, Second Class, I'd say. First Class, if I can wangle it!"**

" **Thank you very much indeed, Minister."** _As if that mattered. Now, seeing Black receive the Dementor's Kiss – now that would be reward indeed_ , his demented mind thought.

" **Nasty cut you've got there… Black's work, I suppose?"**

" **As a matter of fact, it was Potter, Weasley, and Granger, Minister…"**

" **No!"**

**"Black had bewitched them, I saw it immediately. A Confundus Charm, to judge by their behaviour. They seemed to think there was a possibility he was innocent. They weren't responsible for their actions. On the other hand, their interference might have permitted Black to escape… They obviously thought they were going to catch Black single-handed. They've got away with a great deal before now… I'm afraid it's given them a rather high opinion of themselves… and of course Potter has always been allowed an extraordinary amount of licence by the headmaster —"**

" **Ah, well, Snape… Harry Potter, you know… we've all got a bit of a blind spot where he's concerned."**

" **And yet — is it good for him to be given so much special treatment? Personally, I try and treat him like any other student.** **And any other student would be suspended — at the very least — for leading his friends into such danger. Consider, Minister — against all school rules — after all the precautions put in place for his protection — out-of-bounds, at night, consorting with a werewolf and a murderer — and I have reason to believe he has been visiting Hogsmeade illegally too —"**

" **Well, well… we shall see, Snape, we shall see… The boy has undoubtedly been foolish … What amazes me most is the behaviour of the Dementors… you've really no idea what made them retreat, Snape?"**

" **No, Minister… by the time I had come round they were heading back to their positions at the entrances…"**

" **Extraordinary. And yet Black, and Harry, and the girl —"**

" **All unconscious by the time I reached them. I bound and gagged Black, naturally, conjured stretchers, and brought them all straight back to the castle."**

The next thing Snape heard was Potter creating a fuss in the hospital wind, demanding to see the Headmaster.

" **Harry, Harry, what's this?" said Fudge, looking agitated.**

" **Minister, listen!"** Potter **said. "Sirius Black's innocent! Peter Pettigrew faked his own death! We saw him tonight! You can't let the Dementors do that thing to Sirius, he's —"**

" **Harry, Harry, you're very confused, you've been through a dreadful ordeal, lie back down, now, we've got everything under control…"**

" **YOU HAVEN'T!"** Potter **yelled. "YOU'VE GOT THE WRONG MAN!"**

" **Minister, listen, please," Hermione said. "I saw him too. It was Ron's rat, he's an Animagus, Pettigrew, I mean, and —"**

" **You see, Minister?" said Snape. "Confunded, both of them… Black's done a very good job on them…"** Not for one minute did Snape's pain-addled brain consider it could possibly be true.

" **WE'RE NOT CONFUNDED!"** the brat **roared.**

**The door opened again. It was Dumbledore.**

" **Professor Dumbledore, Sirius Black —"**

" **For heaven's sake!" said Madam Pomfrey hysterically. "Is this a hospital wing or not? Headmaster, I must insist —"**

" **My apologies, Poppy, but I need a word with Mr. Potter and Miss Granger," said Dumbledore calmly. "I have just been talking to Sirius Black —"**

" **I suppose he's told you the same fairy tale he's planted in Potter's mind?" spat Snape. "Something about a rat, and Pettigrew being alive —"**

**"That, indeed, is Black's story," said Dumbledore, surveying Snape closely through his half-moon spectacles.**

" **And does my evidence count for nothing?" snarled Snape. "Peter Pettigrew was not in the Shrieking Shack, nor did I see any sign of him on the grounds."**

" **That was because you were knocked out, Professor!" said Hermione earnestly. "You didn't arrive in time to hear."**

" **Miss Granger, HOLD YOUR TONGUE!"** Snape knew, he just knew, his vengeance would unravel in a conspiracy of Gryffindors.

" **Now, Snape," said Fudge, startled, "the young lady is disturbed in her mind, we must make allowances —"**

" **I would like to speak to Harry and Hermione alone," said Dumbledore abruptly. "Cornelius, Severus, Poppy — please leave us."**

" **Headmaster!" sputtered Madam Pomfrey. "They need treatment, they need rest —"**

**"This cannot wait," said Dumbledore. "I must insist."**

Poppy left and **Fudge consulted the large gold pocket watch dangling from his waistcoat.**

" **The Dementors should have arrived by now," he said. "I'll go and meet them. Dumbledore, I'll see you upstairs."**

 **He crossed to the door and held it open for Snape, but Snape hadn't moved.** Here it was again: Dumbledore his confessor and mentor – also his cruel master, never taking his part, about to repeat history. His blood was cold in his veins, knowing the truth of this.

" **You surely don't believe a word of Black's story?" Snape whispered, his eyes fixed on Dumbledore's face.** His mind shrieked at the unfairness of this – like a repetition of twenty years ago. Sirius Black – homicidal maniac notwithstanding: he was one of Dumbledore's golden Gryffindors and would be forgiven anything.

" **I wish to speak to Harry and Hermione alone," Dumbledore repeated.**

**Snape took a step toward Dumbledore.**

" **Sirius Black showed he was capable of murder at the age of sixteen," he breathed.** " **You haven't forgotten that, Headmaster? You haven't forgotten that he once tried to kill me?"** It was almost a plea. A plea not to be cruelly disregarded again - not again.

" **My memory is as good as it ever was, Severus," said Dumbledore quietly.**

 **Snape turned on his heel and marched through the door Fudge was still holding** , his head pounding once more.

He followed Fudge as they made their way to Filius's office, his head still pounding. The Dementors were on their way with Macnair. Surely, there was no way now that Dumbledore could interfere? They reached Filius's office, Dumbledore joined them. Filius was standing outside and took down his wards to permit them entry.

Black was not there. The window was open and Black was not there. _It must be a trick,_ Snape thought wildly, ignoring the babbling of Fudge, Filius and Macnair.

Snape darted into the room with Filius, and both cast _Homenum Revelio_ but no-one was there.

Black had escaped.

Snape locked eyes with Dumbledore, who said nothing. Dumbledore had stayed behind with Potter and Granger. He had put them up to something. The pain in Snape's head was threatening to overwhelm him, but he had to know. He spun on his heels and strode swiftly to the hospital wing, followed by Fudge and Dumbledore.

**"He must have Disapparated, Severus. We should have left somebody in the room with him. When this gets out –"**

**"HE DIDN'T DISAPPARATE!" Snape roared. "YOU CAN'T APPARATE _OR_ DISAPPARATE INSIDE THIS CASTLE! THIS – HAS – SOMETHING – TO – DO – WITH – POTTER!"**

**"Severus – be reasonable – Harry has been locked up –"**

**BAM.**

**The door of the hospital wing burst open.** **Fudge, Snape, and Dumbledore came striding into the ward. Dumbledore alone looked calm. Indeed, he looked as though he was quite enjoying himself. Fudge appeared angry. But Snape was beside himself** seeing Dumbledore's calmness – knowing with absolute certainty he had used Potter to free Black. Maybe, he could drag the information out of Potter **.**

**"OUT WITH IT, POTTER!" he bellowed. "WHAT DID YOU DO?"**

**"Professor Snape!" shrieked Madam Pomfrey. "Control yourself!"**

**"See here, Snape, be reasonable," said Fudge. "This door's been locked, we just saw –"**

**"THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!" Snape howled, pointing at** Potter and Granger **.**

**"Calm down, man!" Fudge barked. "You're talking nonsense!"**

**"YOU DON'T KNOW POTTER!" shrieked Snape. "HE DID IT, I KNOW HE DID IT –"**

**"That will do, Severus," said Dumbledore quietly. "Think about what you are saying. This door has been locked since I left the ward ten minutes ago. Madam Pomfrey, have these students left their beds?"** _Oh, the foul, foul man has betrayed me in the eyes of the world again. How many times will he do this to me?_ Snape's mind howled in rage.

**"Of course not!" said Madam Pomfrey, bristling. "I would have heard them!"**

**"Well, there you have it, Severus," said Dumbledore calmly. "Unless you are suggesting that Harry and Hermione are able to be in two places at once, I'm afraid I don't see any point in troubling them further."**

**Snape stood there, seething, staring from Fudge to Dumbledore, whose eyes were twinkling behind his glasses. Snape whirled about, robes swishing behind him, and stormed out of the ward** and marched back to his quarters in the dungeons, knowing the man had betrayed him **.**

He entered his quarters, furious. He knew Dumbledore had set up Potter somehow to thwart his revenge. But why – why would either of them assist the murderer of Lily? He paced his drawing room like a caged and wounded animal, his mind spinning, his head splitting.

His eyes accidentally alighted on one of Lupin's cravats on one of the chairs. The beast had all his clothing here. He strode to the wardrobe and pulled Lupin's clothes out and threw them into a Conjured chest. He raged around his quarters looking for every small thing that was Lupin's to get it out of his sight. He vanished it all to Lupin's own rooms.

He went back to pacing, filled with unspent rage with no outlet, his fists clenching and unclenching. As he passed his bookcase, he dragged all the books to the floor, shelf by shelf, and then crashed the bookcase itself to the floor, breaking it. He then threw each of his chairs against the stone wall and then turned to his desk.

He saw his notes on the werewolf's blood lust and their holiday list. He started to breathe more slowly, trying to calm himself. He picked up his voluminous workings on the blood lust. Why should he now care about an incantation to alleviate a werewolf's blood lust and pain? His eyes glittered and his teeth were bared, suppressing his physical violence, as he stared at the hours of work held in his hands. The werewolf's pain could multiply a hundred-fold and it would not satisfy his pain and rage! He took each piece of parchment and shredded it very deliberately and when all the many pages had been shredded, he consumed them in Fiendfyre, just like his blood parchments had been.

He then picked up their list of holiday places and slumped in the last remaining chair by his desk. Grief suddenly overwhelmed his rage.

 _Ye gods, the beast had done the thing thoroughly. He made me think we had a life together. He conjured a whole fantasy and meshed me in it thoroughly. Whatever was I thinking? However could I have believed I could be loved like that, even by a beast?_ As his pain overtook his rage, he laid his head on the list written in both their hands, laced his fingers over his head and sobbed until he could weep no more.

* * *

Dawn brought clarity to his madness although no relief from pain from the Break. He took the list, liberally smutched by his tears, and cast Incendio to it without a second glance. He then set about repairing his furniture and re-ordering his books with unnatural calmness.

The beast would be regaining his form now and no doubt making his way back to his rooms. Black had escaped and Snape had no doubt at all that Dumbledore himself would contrive to allow the animal to stay. Snape would not have it – could not have it. He would not discuss it with Dumbledore again. He would be disregarded – he was always disregarded. He had to attend to the matter himself.

He had hurt the beast last night. Well, that was deserved. The beast had never told him a single truth. The Dark Lord had taught him well. How fitting the beast's punishment should be that which Snape had thought sacred between them but now saw was profane.

Now, he needed to ensure that Dumbledore's machinations would not succeed.

Early morning saw Snape call a House meeting ostensibly to head count all his students.

"Thank you for indulging me in this head count," he said silkily to the assembled students in the Slytherin common room. "It was necessary before breakfast to ensure you are all safe and accounted for, due to the - ah ... unforeseen release into the grounds last night of a werewolf. Now, let us all now make our way to breakfast." He listened with well-cloaked pleasure to the varying gasps of dismay and questions as to the identity of the werewolf from his students to this revelation.

As they reached the Great Hall, he said softly, "Needless to say, we are all aware that the Defence against the Dark Arts post is cursed, but perhaps we had not expected that to have such a literal sense this year." He opened the door and allowed his Slytherins to pass through, noting each and every one had understood who the werewolf was. He smirked unpleasantly listening to the Slytherins chatter about Professor Lupin and steal frightened glances to his currently unoccupied place at breakfast. Snape followed, striding confidently to the head table to meet Dumbledore's stern gaze.

As he took his seat, he could see Dumbledore had guessed the topic of conversation of Slytherin House. He looked at Snape, his eyes calculating for a while and then turned away. As breakfast finished, Dumbledore stood and went to Snape.

"You have Remus's wand, I believe," he said mildly, holding his hand out. Snape took it from his robe and passed it to Dumbledore without question. There would be no trial for the beast now that Black had escaped. "Come to my office in two hours, Severus," Dumbledore said firmly. Snape gave him a curt nod.

* * *

At 10 a.m., Snape arrived at Dumbledore's office. Bright-eyed, still angry and head still on fire. He hoped it was not Dumbledore's intention to crow.

"Have a seat Severus," Dumbledore said, and poured Snape a cup of tea. Snape sat, upright.

"Remus has tendered his resignation," Dumbledore informed him.

"I'm pleased to hear it," Snape said, without a trace of emotion.

"Why are you? Until last night, you were a couple. Quite a serious one at that, as far as I could see," Dumbledore observed mildly.

"It was all a lie. A sham to get Black into the castle." Snape's jaw twitched as he tried to retain his composure.

"That is nonsense, Severus." Dumbledore now looked steadily at Snape, as if in challenge.

Snape stood quickly as his temper started to bubble and Dumbledore nodded, as if confirming something to himself, as he made a complex casting in the air.

"Severus, please sit. Let me help you," Dumbledore whispered.

"I don't need any help. You've done quite enough!" Snape barked, his hands grabbing the edge of Dumbledore's table.

"Severus, your Mind Break has torn open. Please listen to me," Dumbledore said, his tone still measured.

"You are just trying to manoeuvre me again, Albus," Snape's voice was still rising with his anger. "I am not sorry for what I did to the beast. I wish both of them could have been given the Dementor's Kiss last night!" he roared.

"Enough Severus! Co-operate with me, or not – the choice is yours. This will happen." Dumbledore's voice was hard-edged now, but not raised, but his wand was, and Snape's eyes widened as he realised what Dumbledore meant to do.

"You would not do that," he whispered in horror. "I won't allow it!" Snape began to look quite wild with fear, and yet found he was unable to reach for his own wand. Dumbledore had wordlessly restrained him.

_Legilimens._

Albus Dumbledore was no Dark Lord. His intrusion could barely be felt, but Snape knew he was in his mind. Swiftly and tenderly, Dumbledore found the Break. He began to use ancient white magic mind bindings for healing with patience, skill and dexterity. Snape recognised them as ones he used to heal after Legilimency had been performed brutally. Slowly, he felt the dense throbbing starting to ease and the pain dulling as Dumbledore gently closed the tear. The Dark miasma of pain and rage lifted like a storm passing, Snape began to feel the weight lift from his mind and finally Dumbledore left his mind.

But he left behind a man now in full realisation of what he had done to his lover in the throes of the red mist of Dark madness. Snape was slumped in the chair, his eyes wide with horror, staring at Dumbledore. Then he dropped his head into his own hands, clutching his hair, the air reverberated with the sound of dry sobs racking Snape's lungs as very real grief crashed over him.

Dumbledore watched Snape kindly. It was the second time Snape had howled his grief in this very chair. The boy had no-one and was so very emotionally inarticulate. The least Dumbledore could do was not to let him cry alone. He had hoped Lupin would bring an end to Snape's isolation. Perhaps, he had been wrong. Perhaps, Snape was just too damaged. Eventually, Snape wore himself out, and had slowly stopped crying and eventually calmed himself again, but his eyes were haunted by what he had done to Lupin.

"When did you stop seeing the Healer, Severus?" Dumbledore asked. "And why?"

"Before the exams," he croaked, his throat parched. Dumbledore summoned water and a refreshed teapot for Snape. "We were just so busy, there seemed to be no time in the day – for us." Snape looked away, with a slight blush.

"Do you understand what happened to you yesterday, Severus?" Dumbledore asked kindly.

"I did not at the time. I do now. The Break tore open. The Mind Break is Dark magic. It will have magnified all my negative feelings to the point of madness," Snape exhaled heavily. "I must be its perfect subject," he spat bitterly.

"But Remus still let Black into the castle and led him to Potter and his friends. Why would he do that?" Snape cried, his mind trying to understand last night's events without malignancy clouding his understanding.

"He did not, Severus," Dumbledore said firmly. "You already know the truth, but would not believe it because it came from the mouth of Sirius Black."

Snape opened his mouth to say something, but bit it back. "Pettigrew?" he whispered hoarsely, his heart starting to hurt again, and his gut starting to churn.

Dumbledore nodded and produced a phial with some silvery substance in it: a memory.

"Whose?" Snape said weakly, but he knew.

"Remus's," Dumbledore said softly. "He gave it to me for you when he came to resign."

"Please, Albus, no. I don't want to see it. You don't know what I did to him," Snape implored.

"I'm afraid I have a good idea. I saw the pain in his eyes this morning. A very _deeply etched_ pain," Dumbledore emphasised the words so Snape would understand that Dumbledore knew full well. "You cannot hide from the truth, Severus. You should not want to. I will be with you."

Snape stood with Dumbledore at the Pensieve as Dumbledore emptied the phial into it and took Snape's elbow as they leant into it.

* * *

It was Lupin's office. He was drinking a mug of tea and had just revealed the Marauder's Map. He was looking for someone on it. His finger was tracing the main hall and out to Hagrid's hut.

There! Lupin tapped the map with his index finger and his jaw set with annoyance: Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger leaving Hagrid's hut

With a fourth dot labelled 'Peter Pettigrew'.

Snape saw Lupin's eyes grow wide and his already pale face drain completely. Lupin had told him: the map did not lie and did not malfunction. His own stomach churned to look upon Lupin's face and know what was to come.

Then he saw another dot running towards the group, very fast indeed. Sirius Black.

Lupin fled from his office as fast as he could towards the Whomping Willow. He saw him immobilise the branches and run down the tunnel to the house itself and heard Granger calling for help. He sped up the stairs and crashed into the upper room (where Snape had watched vigil over him all those nights ago) wand at the ready. He took in the scene of Weasley injured on the floor, Granger cowering next to him and Potter standing over a crumpled and bleeding Black with his wand raised.

Lupin then Disarmed the trio. Snape was shocked and quickly looked to Dumbledore. "Watch," Dumbledore whispered.

" **Where is he, Sirius?"** Snape had never heard Lupin's voice sound so hard and so full of hatred.

 **Black's face was quite expressionless. Then, very slowly, he raised his empty hand and pointed straight at** Weasley. Snape was puzzled.

" **But then…" Lupin muttered, staring at Black so intently it seemed he was trying to read his mind, "… why hasn't he shown himself before now? Unless" — Lupin's eyes suddenly widened, as though he was seeing something beyond Black, something none of the rest could see, "— unless he was the one… unless you switched… without telling me?"**

Snape closed his eyes slowly. Not Black. Pettigrew. He opened them again and wondered what inner turmoil Lupin was feeling now.

**Very slowly, his sunken gaze never leaving Lupin's face, Black nodded.**

The brat was about to ask a question but Snape could see his utter confusion as he saw that **Lupin was lowering his wand, gazing fixedly at Black.** Lupin **walked to Black's side, seized his hand, pulled him to his feet, and embraced Black like a brother.**

There was no doubt at all in Snape's mind that the embrace was familial. He took in the sorrow and concern on Lupin's face for the convict in front of him – knowing Lupin's capacity for love and tenderness and hatred for injustice, Black's plight as an innocent man would be making Lupin's heart break now. Just looking at Lupin with Black in his embrace as a long lost brother shamed Snape quite profoundly and he drew his hand across his face to hide his shame from Dumbledore.

The children shouted at Lupin, accusingly and Lupin tried to explain.

" **NO!"** Granger **screamed. "Harry, don't trust him, he's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too — he's a werewolf!"**

 **There was a ringing silence. Everyone's eyes were now on Lupin, who looked remarkably calm, though rather pale.** Shame crawled all over Snape's skin right to the tips of his fingers and toes, knowing the abject misery Lupin would be feeling, and how he himself would compound it shortly.

" **Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione," he said. "Only one out of three, I'm afraid. I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle and I certainly don't want Harry dead." An odd shiver passed over his face. "But I won't deny that I am a werewolf."**

Weasley made some attempt to move and **Lupin made toward him, looking concerned, but** Weasle **gasped, "Get away from me, werewolf!"** Snape flinched for Lupin.

**Lupin stopped dead. Then, with an obvious effort, he turned to Hermione and said, "How long have you known?"**

**"Ages,"** Granger **whispered. "Since I did Professor Snape's essay…"** Well, it was why he had set it, he couldn't deny it.

" **He'll be delighted," said Lupin coolly.** Lupin explained that the staff knew of his affliction and that Dumbledore had had his work cut out to convince them he was trustworthy. Snape knew he was the only member of staff who had opposed Lupin's appointment.

**"He had to work very hard to convince certain teachers that I'm trustworthy —"**

" **AND HE WAS WRONG!"** Potter **yelled. "YOU'VE BEEN HELPING HIM ALL THE TIME!"**

**He was pointing at Black, who suddenly crossed to the four-poster bed and sank onto it, his face hidden in one shaking hand.**

" **I have not been helping Sirius," said Lupin. "If you'll give me a chance, I'll explain. Look —"**

 **He separated** the children's **wands and threw each back to its owner.**

" **There," said Lupin, sticking his own wand back into his belt "You're armed, we're not. Now will you listen?"**

Potter demanded to know how Lupin knew they were here. Lupin explained he saw it on the map. Potter was surprised Lupin knew how to work it.

" **Of course I know how to work it," said Lupin. "I helped write it. I'm Moony — that was my friends' nickname for me at school."**

Snape could see Potter was speechless. Lupin had not lied about this either.

Lupin explained that he had been looking for them, that he expected they used the invisibility cloak. Once again, Potter was surprised. Potter hardly knew anything about Lupin's close relationship with his father. Snape knew that would have hurt Lupin to keep that close. Then Lupin revealed the children had been accompanied by a fourth person.

" **I couldn't believe my eyes," said Lupin, still pacing. "I thought the map must be malfunctioning. How could he be with you?"**

" **No one was with us!" said** Potter **.**

" **And then I saw another dot, moving fast toward you, labelled Sirius Black… I saw him collide with you; I watched as he pulled two of you into the Whomping Willow —"**

" **One of us!"** Weasley **said angrily.**

" **No, Ron," said Lupin. "Two of you."**

" **Do you think I could have a look at the rat?" he said evenly.**

**"What's Scabbers got to do with it?"**

" **Everything," said Lupin. "Could I see him, please?"**

Weasley produced the desperately thrashing rat. Snape held his breath.

**Lupin ... seemed to be holding his breath as he gazed intently at Scabbers.**

**"What's my rat got to do with anything?"**

" **That's not a rat," croaked Sirius Black suddenly.**

" **What d'you mean — of course he's a rat —"**

" **No, he's not," said Lupin quietly. "He's a wizard."**

" **An Animagus," said Black, "by the name of Peter Pettigrew."**

The children argued, pointing out Pettigrew had been killed by Black. Snape's own breathing had become erratic.

" **I meant to,"** Black **growled, his yellow teeth bared, "but little Peter got the better of me… not this time, though!"** and then Black made a lunge for the rat.

" **Sirius, NO!" Lupin yelled, launching himself forwards and dragging Black away from** Weasley **again, "WAIT! You can't do it just like that — they need to understand — we've got to explain —"**

" **We can explain afterwards!" snarled Black, trying to throw Lupin off. One hand was still clawing the air as it tried to reach Scabbers, who was squealing like a piglet, scratching Ron's face and neck as he tried to escape.**

Why did Lupin always have to be so reasonable? The man was a marvel. Snape's heart hurt.

" **They've — got — a — right — to — know — everything!" Lupin panted, still trying to restrain Black. "Ron's kept him as a pet! There are parts of it even I don't understand, and Harry — you owe Harry the truth, Sirius!"**

**Black stopped struggling, though his hollowed eyes were still fixed on Scabbers.**

" **All right, then," Black said, without taking his eyes off the rat. "Tell them whatever you like. But make it quick, Remus. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for…"**

Weasley made to leave but **Lupin raised his wand again, pointing it at Scabbers.**

" **You're going to hear me out, Ron," he said quietly.**

" **But Professor Lupin… Scabbers can't be Pettigrew… it just can't be true, you know it can't…"**

" **Why can't it be true?" Lupin said calmly, as though they were in class, and Hermione had simply spotted a problem in an experiment with Grindylows.** _Merlin! Lupin had the patience of a saint. Granger really was an insufferable know-it-all._

" **Because … because people would know if Peter Pettigrew had been an Animagus."** and proceeded to regurgitate her homework of the registration of animagi.

 **Lupin started to laugh.** It was a genuine hearty Lupin laugh and it tugged at Snape's heart.

" **Right again, Hermione!" he said. "But the Ministry never knew that here used to be three unregistered Animagi running around Hogwarts."**

Then Snape heard the creak behind Lupin and knew he had now arrived under Potter's invisibility cloak. He started to feel nauseous.

He watched and listened as Lupin explained again how the Shrieking Shack had been purpose-built for his transformations. Without the miasma of the Break twisting his thoughts and emotions, he heard and saw the sadness in Lupin as he looked about him at what had clearly been traumatic memories of transforming alone in this dismal place and as he recalled his parents' sacrifices for him. He'd noticed none of this last night. Now it made him want to reach out to comfort him.

He described his friendship with the other Marauders and how they'd become animagi to keep him company. It was advanced magic for teenagers, he had to admit.

He listened and watched intently as Lupin described their full moons together. He remembered how he had reacted with fury to the admission that they had had a few near misses and interpreted it as being laughing at his own incident with Lupin transformed. Now he listened without the Break's fury, no such admission was there and he saw clearly the haunted, guilty look on Lupin's face.

He listened and watched Lupin as he talked of his betrayal of Dumbledore's trust both as a school boy and as a teacher, but this time found he did not agree with him. He was just too human.

He heard the derision in Black's voice at the mention of his own name. He did not care but watched Black as Lupin described how Black tricked him into the werewolf's lair all those years ago. No regret there, that was for sure.

But now, he knew it was time...

" **So that's why Snape doesn't like you," said** Potter **slowly, "because he thought you were in on the joke?"**

" **That's right,"** he heard his own cold voice sneer, and his blood froze **.**

Snape covered his face and groaned, recalling the bile that was filling his mind as he advanced on Lupin with his wand drawn at Lupin's chest. He listened to Lupin trying to plead with him to listen to him reasonably. Of course, he did not – he recalled being completely consumed in his hatred.

He heard himself say, " **Two more for Azkaban tonight. I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this… He was quite convinced you were harmless, you know, Lupin… a _tame_ werewolf —" ** and held his breath.

" **You fool," said Lupin softly. "Is a schoolboy grudge worth putting an innocent man back inside Azkaban?"**

**BANG!**

**Thin, snakelike cords burst from the end of Snape's wand and twisted themselves around Lupin's mouth, wrists, and ankles; he overbalanced and fell to the floor, unable to move.** Snape watched in horror as he saw Lupin's eyes fill with tears of fear, shame and agony as Snape carved into his mind as he bound him without pity or mercy.

He heard himself rage at Black and at Granger, but it was Lupin from whom he could not tear his eyes. Even though he knew it was a memory only, he dropped to his knees before Lupin's prone, bound form at the sight of him in so much pain. He heard Black beg him to look at the rat, but he didn't need to look at his memory self to see he was quite beyond reason. He heard himself click his fingers and watched as **the ends of the cords that bound Lupin flew to his hands. "I'll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the Dementors will have a kiss for him too —"** If he could have punched himself, he would. He saw Lupin's eyes as he said these appalling things, designed to be as cruel as possible. He remembered the malice with which he had said them.

He watched Potter block the door and stick up for Lupin and then yell at him. He looked at his maddened self, horror-struck at how unhinged he was. He heard himself rail against the boy's father again and then saw Potter, Granger and Weasley Disarm him, blasting him unconscious back onto the bed.

Granger was whimpering and **Lupin was struggling against his bonds. Black bent down quickly and untied him. Lupin straightened up, rubbing his arms where the ropes had cut into them.**

" **Thank you, Harry," he said.** Those in the room may not have seen, but Snape could see the pain Lupin was struggling to master. Master it he would, because Lupin always mastered his pain.

Then he heard Black say to Potter, " **Then it's time we offered you some proof. You, boy — give me Peter, please. Now."**

Weasley refused and wanted to know how Black could possibly know it was his rat that was Pettigrew. Black took a **crumpled piece of paper, which he smoothed flat and held out to show the others. It was the photograph of** Weasley **and his family that had appeared in the _Daily Prophet_ the previous summer, and there was Scabbers. **

Black explained Fudge had given him the paper when he inspected Azkaban last year, explained how often he had seen Pettigrew transform and noted the missing claw.

" **Of course," Lupin breathed. "So simple… so _brilliant_ … he cut it off himself?" **

" **Just before he transformed," said Black. "When I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I'd betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself — and sped down into the sewer with the other rats…"**

Snape was as fascinated as the children to listen to the mystery unravel. The Weasley family rat, in the family for twelve years. Granger's cat (undoubtedly a kneazle, Snape thought) communicating with Black in his animagus form to try to bring the rat to him. How the rat even tried to fake its own death by the kneazle. Then Black admitting to the boy he had come to kill Pettigrew and the boy losing his temper.

" **Harry," said Lupin hurriedly, "don't you see? All this time we've thought Sirius betrayed your parents, and Peter tracked him down — but it was the other way around, don't you see? _Peter_ betrayed your mother and father — Sirius tracked _Peter_ down —" **

" **THAT'S NOT TRUE!"** Potter **yelled. "HE WAS THEIR SECRET-KEEPER! HE SAID SO BEFORE YOU TURNED UP. HE SAID HE KILLED THEM!"**

" **Harry… I as good as killed them," he croaked. "I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret-Keeper instead of me… I'm to blame, I know it… The night they died, I'd arranged to check on Peter, make sure he was still safe, but when I arrived at his hiding place, he'd gone. Yet there was no sign of a struggle. It didn't feel right. I was scared. I set out for your parents' house straight away. And when I saw their house, destroyed, and their bodies… I realized what Peter must've done… what I'd done…"** Snape could never feel pity or compassion for Black, but he certainly understood the guilt of poor choices. Black's was nowhere near as culpable as his own, but he understood the consuming nature of it to understand why Black's **voice broke. He turned away.**

" **Enough of this," said Lupin, and there was a steely note in his voice. "There's one certain way to prove what really happened. _Ron, give me that rat._ " **

Snape watched intently as Lupin took the rat from Weasley and **Scabbers began to squeak without stopping, twisting and turning, his tiny black eyes bulging in his head. "Ready, Sirius?" said Lupin.**

Black, with Snape's wand, **approached Lupin and the struggling rat.**

" **Together?" he said quietly.**

" **I think so", said Lupin, holding Scabbers tightly in one hand and his wand in the other. "On the count of three. One — two — THREE!"**

**A flash of blue-white light erupted from both wands; for a moment, Scabbers was frozen in mid-air, his small grey form twisting madly ... the rat fell and hit the floor. There was another blinding flash of light and then —**

Snape watched the rat transform into Peter Pettigrew and he was filled with murderous rage: for Lily, for Lupin, for himself. He felt Dumbledore squeeze his arm lightly to pacify him.

" **Well, hello, Peter," said Lupin pleasantly, as though rats frequently erupted into old school friends around him.** " **Long time, no see."** _Oh Remus,_ Snape thought longingly, _how are you so overwhelmingly gentle and courteous? Gentle, gentle man._

He heard Pettigrew try to dissemble and watched as Lupin prevented Black killing Pettigrew outright there and then. Lupin's coolness under pressure came to the fore, teasing information out of Pettigrew from the rat's wild accusations as he clearly panicked, refusing to utter the Dark Lord's name and unable to account for hiding as a rat for twelve years.

" **I must admit, Peter, I have difficulty in understanding why an innocent man would want to spend twelve years as a rat," said Lupin evenly.**

" **Innocent, but scared!" squealed Pettigrew. "If Voldemort's supporters were after me, it was because I put one of their best men in Azkaban — the spy, Sirius Black!"**

**Black's face contorted.**

" **How dare you," he growled. "I, a spy for Voldemort? When did I ever sneak around people who were stronger and more powerful than myself? But you, Peter — I'll never understand why I didn't see you were the spy from the start. You always liked big friends who'd look after you, didn't you? It used to be us… me and Remus… and James…"**

Snape's mouth became thin. Black clearly knew what they were at school, even if Lupin didn't.

" **Lily and James only made you Secret-Keeper because I suggested it," Black hissed, so venomously that Pettigrew took a step backward.** " **I thought it was the perfect plan… a bluff… Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they'd use a weak, talentless thing like you… It must have been the finest moment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters."**

Snape knew it was the truth. He listened as more questions were asked, his interest piqued further by Granger's question of how he escaped from Azkaban:

" **I don't know how I did it," he said slowly. "I think the only reason I never lost my mind is that I knew I was innocent. That wasn't a happy thought, so the Dementors couldn't suck it out of me… but it kept me sane and knowing who I am… helped me keep my powers… so when it all became… too much… I could transform in my cell… become a dog. Dementors can't see, you know…" He swallowed. "They feel their way toward people by feeding off their emotions… They could tell that my feelings were less — less human, less complex when I was a dog… but they thought, of course, that I was losing my mind like everyone else in there, so it didn't trouble them. But I was weak, very weak, and I had no hope of driving them away from me without a wand…**

" **But then I saw Peter in that picture… I realized he was at Hogwarts with Harry… perfectly positioned to act, if one hint reached his ears that the Dark Side was gathering strength again…ready to strike at the moment he could be sure of allies… and to deliver the last Potter to them. If he gave them Harry, who'd dare say he'd betrayed Lord Voldemort? He'd be welcomed back with honours … So you see, I had to do something. I was the only one who knew Peter was still alive…"**

" **It was as if someone had lit a fire in my head, and the Dementors couldn't destroy it… It wasn't a happy feeling… it was an obsession… but it gave me strength, it cleared my mind. So, one night when they opened my door to bring food, I slipped past them as a dog… It's so much harder for them to sense animal emotions that they were confused… I was thin, very thin… thin enough to slip through the bars… I swam as a dog back to the mainland… I journeyed north and slipped into the Hogwarts grounds as a dog. I've been living in the forest ever since …"**

Snape was transfixed. He understood the nature of obsession, understood Black's determination and _raison d'être_. He believed him totally when he said to Potter, **"Believe me, Harry. I never betrayed James and Lily. I would have died before I betrayed them."**

Pettigrew howled and grovelled before his school friends. Black asked for forgiveness for suspecting Lupin as the spy which, of course, he gave and then Lupin and Black resolved to kill him together.

Pettigrew grovelled to every person in that room for mercy, ending with Potter, Pettigrew claiming his father would have shown mercy. Snape very much doubted it. Black and Lupin poised to strike, even as the loathsome rat claimed to be acting under duress and proclaimed:

" **He — he was taking over everywhere!" gasped Pettigrew. "Wh-what was there to be gained by refusing him?"**

" **What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil wizard who has ever existed?" said Black, with a terrible fury in his face. "Only innocent lives, Peter!"** Snape's eyes closed at the truth of it. _Only innocent lives._

" **You don't understand!" whined Pettigrew. "He would have killed me, Sirius!"**

" **THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!" roared Black. "DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!"**

**Black and Lupin stood shoulder to shoulder, wands raised.**

Then Potter intervened to beg that he be taken to Azkaban rather than killed by his father's friends. Lupin and Black were staggered but complied with Potter's wish. Lupin bound Pettigrew. He then splinted Weasley's bites, who seemed to have recovered from his fear of werewolves. Then he went over to check on Snape himself.

" **There's nothing seriously wrong with him," said Lupin, bending over Snape and checking his pulse.** " **You were just a little — overenthusiastic. Still out cold. Er — perhaps it will be best if we don't revive him until we're safety back in the castle. We can take him like this…"** He saw Lupin's hand tremble as he touched his wrist for his pulse; saw the pain in his eyes and the fear. Casting Mobilicorpus, he levitated Snape into a standing position.

 **Black conjured heavy manacles from thin air; Pettigrew was chained to Lupin** and Weasley, who followed the kneazle down the passage, followed by Snape drifting, **held up by his own wand, which was being pointed at him by** Black and followed by Potter and Granger. Snape noted his head being scraped on the low ceiling, explaining the graze on his forehead. Well, he didn't think under the circumstances, Snape was entitled to any kindness.

**The grounds were very dark now; the only light came from the distant windows of the castle. A cloud shifted. There were suddenly dim shadows on the ground. Their party was bathed in moonlight.**

**Snape** 's body **collided with Lupin, Pettigrew, and Ron, who had stopped abruptly.** Snape saw Black freeze as he **flung out one arm to make** Potter and Hermione **stop.**

Lupin went **rigid. Then his limbs began to shake.**

The man screamed and, as the screams turned to howls, the memory ended.

* * *

They left the Pensieve. Dumbledore steadied Snape on his feet. He had been so utterly wrong in every way and had tortured Lupin. He could only blame the Break so much. There were very few wizards who could carve a mind as he had done – that took Darkness of a very rare type and he was not proud to possess it, to have even thought of it let alone to carry it out. Those evils were his, and his alone.

He stood before Dumbledore's desk, ashamed, humbled and hurting. Dumbledore sat and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Well, Lucius will have his scandal, although not as salacious as he might have hoped. _The Daily Prophet_ will pillory me as a foolish old man to hire a werewolf. It is of no concern to me. But, Remus? His life will be ruined now," he said heavily.

Snape felt his legs weaken as his stomach chewed itself and he tasted bile rising in his throat. Of course, his own students would tell their parents and it would be splashed all over _The Daily Prophet_ tomorrow. Lupin could never find employment in the wizarding world again and it was completely his doing. He'd meant to damage him and he'd done it utterly. He could never retract that information from the world.

"It is a fearsome thing to be loved and rejected by you, Severus," Dumbledore commented. The comment hurt, as only the truth could.

"Let me go to him, Albus. I can heal what I did. Only I can heal it, you know that," Snape pleaded, his face stricken.

"You would not be welcome now, Severus. Remus is packing to leave. I certainly think you must be healed fully yourself before you see Remus again ... if he will see you. You are a man of intemperate passions, Severus. You should wait until you are once again in full control." It was harsh, but Snape knew it was deserved. "As soon as term finishes, I will escort you to St. Mungo's," Dumbledore continued. "You will stay there until Healer Smethwyck tells me the Break is completely healed. Then, we will see if Remus will see you."

Snape nodded and turned to leave, his heart leaden.

"Oh, and Severus," Dumbledore called after him. Then his voice lowered, "Never break a vow to me again."

 


	24. Seeking what is Lost

The weeks leading up to the end of term were torture for Snape. He remained wracked with guilt for what he had done and all too aware that the Break in his mind had yet to be healed. He did his best to keep up the meditation exercises he'd been taught previously and to try to keep his emotions in check. But, ah, that was the hard part.

He took Dreamless Sleep most nights because he had horrifying nightmares about his carving of Lupin's mind, but he was taking it too regularly, and he had become agitated during his waking hours and reacted badly to stressful situations or remembrances. The mere sight of the golden trio was enough to make him clench his fists alarmingly.

His bed was cold and empty without Lupin and he missed him desperately. Lupin's physical presence in Snape's life had been large and the hollowness he felt now was the more harrowing for it. When he had cleared out Lupin's things on the night of the full moon, he had done it thoroughly. Nothing remained of the man that Snape could draw comfort from. He would look at the fading bites on his neck and chest in the mirror and wonder, as the bites faded, if the Claim faded too.

He had no idea where Lupin was or means of communicating with him. Dumbledore remained resolute that he would not contact Lupin on Snape's behalf until Snape was fully healed. Snape understood he was still unwell and his mercurial nature could exacerbate this illness, but he just wanted some news. He had asked Dumbledore if he could provide Lupin's Wolfsbane Potion, but Dumbledore advised it was being sourced elsewhere.

He was under no illusion that Lupin would ever forgive him. Illness or not, the evil he had done to Lupin was of his own creation that the Dark madness drew from his own jealousy and spite. He knew this. He couldn't bear the thought that Lupin was out in the world, physically suffering because of Snape's cruelty and Darkness and hating him for it.

Snape alone could heal his vicious carving and make Lupin whole again, even if that would be the last he saw of him.

No sooner had the end of term arrived than Dumbledore escorted Snape to St. Mungo's. He was greeted by Healer Smethwyck and placed in the Spell Damage ward. The Healer and his assistants conducted intensive Legilimency on Snape over the course of a month. It was arduous and sometimes painful, physically and emotionally. He had to suffer it if he was ever to regain any semblance of his life. Dumbledore would never be moved from his resolution that Snape would not be discharged until he was fully healed.

Hospital was hellish. One's mind could not rest nor could it be properly engaged. The days dragged by with pitiless sluggishness. Every day that passed was a reminder that this was not how he had seen himself spending this summer – it certainly wasn't the holiday they had planned for themselves.

The revelation was instant: Cadr Idris, Lupin's place of magical solace - that was where Lupin would be! He could picture the place (although he did not revisit their intimate memories shared – he found those memories too painful) and it gave him his own solace that he could envisage Lupin finally. It energised him to have something positive to think about, and he worked more purposefully with the Healers thereafter.

It was late July when Healer Smethwyck pronounced Snape healed to Dumbledore, who then arrived to escort Snape to Spinner's End. Snape was not happy to be back in his childhood home. Another reminder of where he _wasn't_ this summer.

He spent no more than two days on tenterhooks at Spinner's End, waiting to hear from Dumbledore but when there was no fire call or owl, Snape decided he could wait no longer. His mind was well, he should know the answer, whatever it might be. He found an old British atlas and plotted his Apparition to the exact point he wanted in Snowdonia. He packed some potions that might be useful and shrank them to fit in his robe pockets and then left.

* * *

He Apparated in the field where he knew the ruin to be and stood looking around himself in wonder for some time. It was a breathtakingly beautiful place and the air, after Spinner's End, was fresh, and full, and astringently pure. He spotted the ruin and walked around it. He could never access it without Dumbledore's invitation as Secret Keeper, but perhaps Lupin would see him and trust him enough to come to him. He decided to try sending his Patronus to the farmhouse. The Patronus could enter within the charm, because it had no corporeal reality and could do no harm. It took him many efforts to conjure his Patronus, and only finally managed it by imagining seeing Lupin whole and smiling again. The silver doe burst from his wand and he sent it to the farmhouse with the message in his own voice: "Remus – please let me see you. I'll surrender my wand to you, if you wish."

Whether it was received or not, Snape did not know. He certainly could not blame Lupin if he chose to ignore him. He may not even be here. After waiting for a long time, Snape walked towards the mountain range and decided to walk around the lake and to the summit, now he was here. It took a couple of hours, but he eventually reached the summit, breathing hard and exhilarated, and stood transfixed by the sheer beauty of it. Snape was pleased he had come.

The night was drawing in and he could feel the magic scintillating in the air. His eyes were inexorably drawn to the stone seat itself. He formed the resolution to spend the night on the summit. It was something they had planned to do, so he would do it (although, knowing Lupin, there would certainly have been a carnal aspect to that, and the thought made him smile). He walked about contemplatively for some time until he realised it was pitch black. He laid himself out on the rock to watch the starry firmament like the ancient giant used to. The summit got colder and he cast a warming charm over himself and slowly drifted off to sleep and, despite the stone under his body, had a more comfortable sleep than he had known since that fateful full moon, bathing in the ancient magic inherent in the stone and abounding in the air.

The sun rose spectacularly and Snape was awake to watch it over the next hour, his senses enervated with awe and wonder at the sheer beauty of landscape, enriched with ancient druidic magic. It was only when the sun was fully visible through the mountains that Snape noticed the small parchment folded in his hand. Someone had placed it in his hand whilst he slept. His heart leapt as he looked at Dumbledore's copperplate script.

_Plas du, Minffordd, Snowdonia._

He originally thought of Apparating down to the farmhouse, but found himself so overwrought, he decided to walk down to expend his excess energy. He did not want to unnerve Lupin by appearing wild-eyed at his door.

He remembered the way down from his shared memory from Lupin. It was an arduous walk in reality, but it was one worth taking. He stopped by a stream to drink from it – the most refreshing, magically charged water that sparkled as he lifted it to his mouth. It was an hour before he stood before the ruin and read the parchment and watched the ruin become whole and inviting before him.

His heart hammered in his chest now. How would Lupin receive him? His mouth became parched in an instant. He had promised to surrender his wand so he took it out and turned it so the handle faced outward and he walked to the front door. It was ajar. He called Lupin's name tentatively and then walked straight into the sitting room.

Lupin was sitting in one of the armchairs, side on from him and not looking his way but out of the window, his wand held loosely in his hand. Anger, but also pain and fear, emanated from him. Snape swallowed hard to regain his voice and to try to steady his nerves, but feeling hot tears prickling at the back of his eyes. He willed them back. He had not expected a warm welcome; he had no right to tears.

He held out his wand and the parchment on his open palms and Lupin Summoned them both to himself and placed them in his robe.

"May I come in?" he said softly.

Lupin nodded and then got up and went to the kitchen, all without looking at Snape once.

Snape removed his robe, and sat in the other chair. He remembered how Lupin had conjured them spending their time here and felt an uncomfortable lump in his throat. He suddenly had no idea what he would say.

After some minutes, Lupin returned with a tray of porridge, toast and tea for them both. He placed it on the small dining table. He sat there himself and started to eat. Snape didn't move.

"You need to eat. You've become too thin," Lupin said matter-of-factly, still not looking at him. _How would you know if you won't look at me?_ Snape thought to himself. Then he realised that Lupin must have looked at him as he slept last night when he placed the parchment in his hand.

He sat at the table and helped himself to both as well as tea, looking at Lupin, although Lupin kept his face averted from him. Suddenly, Snape understood.

"You have my wand, Remus," he said quietly. "I am not so accomplished a Legilimens to enter your mind without it." His face had flushed at the realisation that Lupin did not trust him not to enter his mind by force again. He looked at his own breakfast, knowing it would now taste of dust, and felt burning shame running under his skin to the tips of fingers. He put down his cutlery and placed his hands in his lap and closed his eyes to think how to start this conversation.

Lupin nodded and kept eating his own breakfast.

Then Lupin said, "I loved your eyes, Severus. I could have drowned in those eyes and died happy." Snape realised his breath was caught in his throat. "If I look in them now, Severus, I will remember the hatred that blazed in them as you slashed into my mind."

"Remus ... I ... I," Snape stuttered. The thought of never looking into Lupin's eyes again devastated him. Lupin always looked very directly at everyone. He had never seen him avoid anyone's gaze. He let his head fall in his hands, unable to form a sentence.

"I know you were ill, Severus," Lupin continued. "I felt the madness in your mind as you entered mine. It didn't feel like you at all. I've tried to forgive you, but to even sit here with you causes me pain – physical pain – where you carved me." Lupin cupped his hand to the right hand side of his skull as if nursing a headache.

"I don't expect your forgiveness, Remus. I don't deserve it." Snape's voice was barely audible. "It's true I was ill. I was released from St. Mungo's two days ago." He noticed Lupin's head turn a fraction to this news. "But, that madness fed on my own irrational jealousy and I carved your mind – there are few wizards who can do that – using the very skill I had pledged myself was sacred to you." He could feel the lump in his throat again. He struggled against it. "Those things were very much my own fault, and are my eternal shame."

"Yes," Lupin said simply. "But you underestimate what you were labouring under, Severus. The Mind Break was Dark enough – you had neglected its healing so it was unstable." Lupin was teaching again, Snape could hear it in his moderated and courteous voice and he loved him anew for it. "Think: where were you when the Break tore open, Severus?"

"Your office," Snape replied. Lupin waited for Snape to think it through for himself. "The Defence post's curse?" Snape's eyes widened.

"I believe so, Severus. That curse finds the weakness to exploit to oust the incumbent of the post. You were its tool on this occasion. Two curses to fight, Severus. What chance did you have?" Lupin shook his head. "I blame you, and yet I don't blame you. I am torn. I do know, however, that I'll never be able to address it rationally while I have this crippling pain in my head." He gave a small shrug and indicated Snape's plate. "I'd like you to eat please."

Snape turned his attention back to his cold porridge and toast and reheated them both with a warming charm. It didn't matter what it tasted like. He needed to eat. He realised he hadn't eaten since he was at Spinner's End early yesterday. So he ate it all, and he noticed that if he kept his eyes fixed firmly on his plate, Lupin would turn to look at him, so that's what he did, keeping his movements exaggerated so he wouldn't take Lupin by surprise.

When he finished, Lupin took the plates and cutlery away and sat back down with a heavy sigh.

"This is not how I pictured us being here," Lupin said sadly.

"Nor I," Snape admitted, keeping his eyes on his own hands.

"I've never seen your Patronus before. I would not have thought you would be a forest creature."

"Not really a caring, nurturing type, you think? More a bat, perhaps? Or a snake?" Snape said with a small smile. He didn't know if Lupin returned it. "What is your Patronus?"

"A wolf. Always. Nothing could make it change – it affixes to my nature." There was some sourness to the statement.

"Remus, please," Snape said, looking up as Lupin snapped his eyes away, "those things I said were the ravings of a madman. Please do not think they are my true feelings. Nothing could be further from the truth. I beg you to believe me!"

"They certainly used to be your thoughts on werewolves, Severus. And you said, it was your jealousy and rage..."

"Yes, jealousy of Black, even of Potter – you know I am not rational in this – it doesn't excuse it, but I loved you so, I couldn't abide the thought of losing you and I lashed out about those who I believed threatened me." Snape's shoulders slumped. "My rage – oh my temper. I've always struggled with it. You seemed to bound my temper so well. But that day, when the Break tore, everything I usually struggle to contain – my temper, my jealousy, my obsessive side – became so magnified. Every poor mechanism I usually use – lashing out with cruelty – magnified with it." His eyes were filling with tears now, hot fat tears of shame and loss, but he knew Lupin would not look at his face, so he allowed himself to shed them.

"When I cut at you in that madness, I believed you had not told me one truth since we had met, I believed you and Black were in league against me and I wanted to hurt you as much as I was hurting and, unfortunately, I had the means to do so. I did it. What I did was foul but it was not the truth of what I feel about you.

"I have never loved the way I have loved you and look what I did to you! Oh Remus, I wanted to come here with you this summer so badly and I wanted to ask you when we were here to bond with me. And yet here we are and my own self-destructive rage means you cannot abide to even look at me." He let his head fall into his hands once more and steadied his breath.

"You would have asked to bond with me, even though I'm a werewolf?" Lupin asked softly.

"Remus, until that night, I thought no two people could ever have shared themselves and their magic in a more perfect way than we. Your being a werewolf was part of what we were. I even researched whether we could bond. I mean, I wasn't sure if we could, as two men. It wasn't Lycanthropy that stopped the idea of bonding in its tracks though."

"What then?"

Snape placed his left arm out. "This," he held the Dark Mark with his right hand. "No blood bondsman can perform the wizard's soul bond without the permission of his blood master." He snorted.

"Somehow, I don't think Voldemort would consent if I asked," Lupin said, and Snape fancied he heard a small chuckle in this voice.

"Quite."

"I would have said yes," Lupin said quietly and left the table with his tea and stood at the largest window, looking at the dramatic mountain range as Snape let the words wash over him, partly in pleasure, mainly in pain.

"I thought ...," Lupin continued. "I thought you had learned to trust me. The very things you thought made us perfect for bonding, well, they all included high degrees of trust between us. How did it disappear so quickly, Severus? How did we go from sharing the Wolf's Kiss to your threatening me with the Dementor's Kiss?"

Snape screwed his eyes shut in misery at the contrast Lupin had just highlighted. "I was just swallowed up in madness," Snape said quietly. "You recall how you were with me when Malfoy touched me and you struggled to come back to me from your possessiveness even though you hurt me?" Lupin nodded. "My madness was like that, but I couldn't get back – everything about us was twisted and perverted by the madness. Albus had to enter my mind to bring me back. Believe me, Remus, that I have never had trust in anyone the way I have trusted you, nor have been so trusted as you trusted me." His voice had become very small and shamed. "I understand if you hate me now."

Lupin said nothing for a long time. "Albus offered to heal the carving, but he did say that you would yield a better result as it is your casting. But I have to trust you with my mind again. I'm not sure I can."

"Albus could be here to oversee it, if you wish," Snape offered. "I don't expect you to trust me on my own, but I can heal it. I want to heal it, Remus."

Lupin nodded again. For a long time, he gazed out of the window, and Snape watched him with sadness and longing.

"What do you need to do it? Anything, other than your wand?"

Snape shook his head. "Shall I fire-call Albus then?"

Lupin turned and looked Snape straight in the eyes.

The blue of his eyes was fractured like shattered coloured glass and the whites of his eyes were blood-shot. Snape gasped loudly. He had not known the pain would be so manifest.

"No," Lupin said firmly. "You and I will do this now. I will trust you to rid me of this, and then you will prove your trust in me. Do you agree?"

Lupin offered Snape his wand, which Snape took with a trembling hand and nodded his agreement to his terms. No greater trust could Lupin show him than he was doing now, here in this isolated cottage with no other wizard or witch to oversee them. Snape knew what it meant and his heart was so full, he wondered if he would be able to take his next breath at all.

Snape rolled up his shirt sleeves and set the two dining chairs to face each other and removed and enlarged some mind healing potion he had brought from his robe to place by Lupin's chair. Lupin removed his own robe and rolled up his sleeves likewise. They took their seats opposite each other. Snape wanted to touch Lupin's face as he had done before the fateful full moon, but didn't think the gesture would be welcome. He went to raise his wand, when Lupin took his left hand in his own and raised it to his face. Snape managed a small smile, and tenderly took Lupin's chin in his left hand as he raised his wand in his right, locking with those strangely fractured blue eyes.

"Legilimens," he whispered.

Waves of sharp, tearing pain hit him immediately. He knew Lupin dealt with a great deal of pain, but this was at a debilitating level. It was no surprise Lupin chose to hole up in this place with its restorative magic. He travelled gently to the site of the carving. If it could be seen, it was be the deep blood red of a deep wound. It had searing heat to it, and the Darkness was palpable. The searing pain travelled out in threads from the carving, affecting all aspects of Lupin's mind. Snape spent time tracing its trails through Lupin's mind and then took each and every one to cauterise it from the source, and excise each thread, soothing each tentacle's path as it became free. He worked on each and every tentacle and thread until all had been removed, turning his attention then to the carving itself. The pain was lessened now, with only the main site now to be dealt with.

It was a foul and odious thing; a thing wrought from malevolence and spite. It vibrated with dissonance and discord. With the greatest of care, Snape began to excise his own carving, excising up to the very boundary of the slice, removing no healthy mind, only his own vicious work. It was intricate and lengthy. When the last of the excision had been done, he then smoothed and salved the area of the mind until it was pristine once more.

Snape could feel the mind was clear now, the pain was gone. There was the after-ache that follows when pain has left, but that was all. He left Lupin's mind quickly and gently. He looked at Lupin's eyes anew. The whites were clear and the irises pure blue once more. He closed his eyes in relief and let his hands drop, only to have them scooped up by Lupin and held firmly in thanks, as Lupin bowed his head, clearly savouring being pain-free for the first time in many weeks.

"You should take the Potion now, one dram, and every day for two weeks. I brought enough," Snape said, his voice rough with emotion, wishing he had the nerve to kiss Lupin's head that was bowed before him but certain it would be unwelcome, until he found himself grabbed around the waist by Lupin and brought onto his lap. Lupin nestled his head into Snape's neck as he held him tightly around his waist. Snape wrapped his arms around Lupin's shoulders and kissed the top of his head, his heart beating too fast.

"I am so very sorry, Remus," he whispered to him. He felt wetness on his neck and knew that Lupin had shed tears, probably of relief. Snape Summoned a glass from the kitchen and measured the Potion for Lupin to take.

"Come, Severus," Lupin said at last. "Let's get some air." He manoeuvred Snape to stand on the floor, and they walked to the door together. Lupin flung open the door and breathed in the air in huge lungfuls like a man reprieved. They walked in the small ornamental and herb garden, only visible under the Fidelius Charm.

"What happens now, Remus?" Snape asked gingerly. Would he be sent away? What was this test of trust that Lupin mentioned? Lupin did not avoid Snape's gaze now; in fact, he could barely take his eyes away from Snape as they walked. It made Snape's head spin.

"When you entered my mind now, Severus, I could feel your mind was cured," Lupin said. "All the rage and Darkness I felt at the full moon were gone. I never realised how attuned I had become to how your mind felt on those occasions when you shared my mind. Now I realise, I know it as well as I know your face or your scent. You are cured, and it warms my heart, Severus. You are still my Severus." He was smiling hugely at Snape now.

"What happens now?" Lupin repeated rhetorically. "I need to know that you trust me Severus. Whether we can continue – well, it all comes down to trust, doesn't it?"

"How can I show you?" Snape asked breathlessly. Lupin might take him back if he could prove himself. He was being offered another chance. Yet another chance. It was more than he could believe; more than he deserved; it was everything he wanted.

"Just a test of trust, Severus," Lupin said, still smiling as he picked some herbs. He told Snape the herbs and flowers he was looking for and Snape helped him to pick them and they then returned to farmhouse.

 


	25. Trust on Cadr Idris

Lupin made them a light lunch, eaten in a very different mood to that in which breakfast had been. Lupin moved his dining chair so he was sitting next to Snape, and throughout lunch, as they talked, he touched Snape, every now and then – light, loving touches – to Snape's hand or his jaw or his hair or his leg – just enough to make Snape's stomach flip pleasantly and lift his anxiety by degrees.

Lupin asked about Snape's time at St. Mungo's, about the exam results and how different children had done and the staff in general. Snape asked who was brewing Lupin's Wolfsbane and how his last transformation had gone.

Then Lupin asked if Snape had viewed the memory he'd left. Snape confirmed he had, knowing how he reacted to this questioning would be part of his testing.

"Do you understand that the Secret Keeper was Peter and not Sirius?" Lupin said firmly, although his hand rested on Snape's knee.

"I do," Snape affirmed.

"You understand that Sirius is like a brother to me. I can never turn my back on him again."

Snape nodded and asked if Lupin had heard from Black.

"No, and I haven't been well enough to try to find him, but I shall try soon. We have a deal of time to make up." Snape felt the rearing of jealousy, but subdued it. If he didn't accept that he didn't have complete ownership of Lupin, he wouldn't have Lupin at all, and he never wanted to be without him again. He had seen in the memory that Lupin's affection for Black was as a brother. It didn't stop Snape feeling jealous, but he had to put sexual jealousy out of his head.

"Severus?" Lupin was looking at Snape with concern. "Do you understand what having Sirius back means to me?"

Snape cleared his throat. "I think so. Until that night, you believed Black had betrayed you all and was a Death Eater leading the Dark Lord to kill Lily and Potter, and then killing Pettigrew himself. You believed your whole friendship with Black – the friendship through which you constructed a family for yourself – was a lie. Now you know it was not a lie. It was based on truth and you have your brother back," he summarised, as if reciting the ingredients of the boil cure potion.

Lupin squeezed Snape's thigh. "Do you see the similarities in what you believed about me?" he leaned in to Snape to his ear.

Snape nodded, his throat dry to have Lupin so close that he could take in his scent.

"How do you imagine my relief feels to me, Severus, to have my brother back who was as good as dead to me?"

Snape searched Lupin's eyes, and saw they were so full of emotion, it touched him deeply.

"I don't think I can imagine it, Remus. I don't have much experience of family. I don't know if I have you back yet to draw the comparison, but I hope I can pass your test," he said, voice choked. "I don't expect you to love me unconditionally like a brother. Please forgive me if I seem grudging. Black will be a hurdle for me to overcome, but I promise you that, if you'll let me, I will do my best to overcome my jealousy, for your sake."

Lupin had not taken his eyes from Snape during the whole of this conversation and now that they had finished eating, he pulled both his and Snape's chairs around to face each other. Now he placed both hands on both of Snape's thighs.

"I need you to understand and to believe that I love you. Not like a brother, like Sirius, but as my Claimed lover. There is no-one else who carries my mark. If you do not believe me on this, how do we continue?" He kissed Snape softly on the mouth, and Snape placed his hands on Lupin's as he returned the kiss as gently, even though it set his lips on fire.

"I do believe you. Yet I am still jealous: you love Black and you want to spend time with him. He and I hate each other. He will never accept me as your mate. He would try to split us up. Perhaps he would succeed. He has the greater claim to you than I. I would begrudge every minute spent with him because it wasn't spent with me," he blurted out, immediately regretting how much of his insecurity he had revealed and how petulant he sounded.

Lupin pulled Snape to his lap again. Snape wrapped his arms around Lupin's shoulders thankfully, relishing the contact. Lupin released Snape's shirt from his trousers and worked his hand under his shirt and trouser top to stroke his stomach as he kissed Snape's throat.

"It means much to me that you would tell me this, Severus. If you trust me to tell me how you feel, even if it's uncomfortable, perhaps we have a chance. Do you see?" Lupin said and returned to kissing Snape's throat.

Snape managed a strangulated "yes," although the last thing he wanted to do was talk when that hand was tracing his navel so enticingly and that mouth had set the skin on his throat on fire. Did Lupin have any idea what these touches did to him, he wondered. He was a man, of course he did.

Lupin then drew Snape's face down to his and they kissed deeply, Lupin's hand no longer tracing, but holding Snape firmly to him.

"You are wrong. Sirius does not have a greater claim to me; it is just a different one. Perhaps he would try to split us up, but he would not succeed, not if you and I wish to be together, and we work at it. That you hate each other is undeniable and there is little I can do about that, but ask you, as I will ask him when I tell him, not to make me choose between you - not if you care for me."

"You will tell Black about us?" Snape said, feeling horrified.

"Of course, Severus. Why would I hide it?" Lupin was looking at Snape quizzically. How could Snape explain to Lupin, so honest and open, how mortifying he found the very idea of Sirius Black knowing anything at all about Snape's private life; that it would render him vulnerable. For as much as Lupin loved and trusted Black, Snape loathed and distrusted him.

"If I asked you not to ...?" Snape started and saw a look of hurt pass across Lupin's features.

"Let's wait and see," Lupin said, and rose and cleared the table. "It's early days."

"Will you allow me to test your trust, Severus?" Lupin asked softly. Snape nodded and he also stood.

"Come." Lupin led Snape by the hand to the centre of the sitting room and knelt. Snape knelt also. Lupin Conjured a blindfold and placed it around Snape's eyes and he could see nothing. _Trust games? Is that all?_

"Do you trust me?" Lupin asked.

"Yes," Snape said firmly.

He felt himself Levitate a foot from the floor then Lupin's hands removing his clothes – first his shirt, then his boots, and finally his trousers so that he was quite naked and suspended in the air. He started to feel his gut clench uncomfortably and unexpectedly and his mind thought upon that day by the lake. He started to feel nauseous and ashamed and could feel himself starting to blush. Did Lupin think of this when he was planning this? For a moment, he thought Lupin was being unkind but then he understood. He and Lupin were in this house under a Fidelius Charm, quite alone and as remote as could be. There were no onlookers, no-one to sneer and snicker, only Lupin who needed Snape to trust him even with this terrible memory. _Trust games in the hands of someone as perceptive as Remus would probably not be as easy as I thought._ Well, he did trust him. He would wait here, patiently so that Lupin could see he understood.

Some time passed and Lupin said, "Tell me what you feel, Severus."

"Impatient," Snape replied with a smirk.

"Good," Lupin said, sounding satisfied. Snape felt Lupin place his hands on his hips and a light kiss on his stomach then the hands were removed. _Ah, some light sexual torture, well that could be pleasant._

He tried to work out where Lupin was. He was difficult to locate although Snape was usually very good at locating people in the dark. He strained his ears for any tell-tale sounds Lupin might make. He remembered that he had not been aware of Lupin placing the parchment in his hand last night as he slept. He must be extraordinarily stealthy.

"Do you trust me?" Lupin asked, to the right of him now.

"Yes," Snape said, his senses very aware, waiting for whatever might happen next.

He felt the touch of something downy on his shoulder. He realised that his body's instinctive reaction had been to flinch, but he stopped it – he willed his body to be still and to trust and feel the touch. It traced down to the side of his body, down his leg and to his foot. It was pleasant. A feather? Snape did not know – it felt heavier than a feather. The same sensation on the other side, and then, before it had completed its journey, another from his Adam's apple travelling, then another down the centre of his back, and another to the left of his back, and another to the right of his back and down each of his sides; his arms stretched themselves out by enchantment, as those sensations travelled the length of his arms as well. It was delicious, and all the more so for not being visible. Then it slowed and came to a stop leaving Snape lightly gasping.

"Did you like that, Severus?" Lupin asked softly.

"I did," Snape whispered, surprising himself.

"Do you trust me?" Lupin asked, to the left of him now.

"Yes," Snape said expectantly.

He felt something cold – metal – possibly a blade press just below his Adam's apple briefly. He willed himself not to flinch again, although he was sure it was a blade. He had felt the touch of those enough to recall the feel. It drew gently and slowly across his throat and down his right arm to the tip of his index finger, retracing its journey up the arm across his back and down his left arm too. It traced the outline of the Dark Mark and the feel of it set his teeth on edge, but he did not flinch. He breathed out heavily, only then realising he had been holding his breath.

"Good," Lupin said, to the right of him and he felt another light kiss to his shoulder joint.

"Do you trust me?" Lupin asked, behind him now.

"Yes," Snape said, breathlessly.

He heard the crackling of fire and then the heat of it, coming near to his face. Warmer and warmer. He was quiet.

"Not for one minute do I believe that you would hurt me with fire," Snape said softly.

"Thank you, Severus," Lupin whispered in his ear and briefly sucked the lobe of that ear.

"Do you trust me?" Lupin asked, on his right once more.

"Yes," Snape said, firmly again.

He smelt a Potion beneath his nose. Snape was very adept at recognising Potions by their constituent ingredients smells or his vast knowledge of how they smelt when mixed. The Potion had been heavily disguised – ah, with the herbs and fragrant flowers he himself had picked in the garden with Lupin this morning. He could recognise rosemary, bay, sage, blade mace, lovage and borage flowers and old English roses covering the smells of the Potion.

"Drink it all, Severus," Lupin said as the chalice was brought to Snape's lips.

Snape drank it all. It made him gag slightly and then a warming sensation spread as it travelled into his intestines. He started to feel a cramp building in his gut and flinched.

"Don't react, Severus. Trust me. Keep absolutely still," Lupin whispered urgently in Snape's ear.

Snape willed himself not flinch or react to the growing cramp although it was getting harder to resist the urge to flinch as the feeling got stronger, and just as it was on the edge of the type of pain that made cramp so feared, it immediately ceased and a soothing feeling of warmth spread from his intestines instead.

Snape felt another kiss to his chest.

"Do you trust me?" Lupin said, in front of him once more.

"Yes," Snape said softly, feeling oddly relaxed. Perhaps there had been something else in the Potion.

He felt Lupin's hands rest on his shoulders and softly squeeze them.

"How much do you trust me?" Lupin breathed into Snape's mouth

"With my life, I trust you," Snape answered, sincerely. _Veritaserum?_ He doubted Lupin would resort to it.

"With your heart?" Lupin asked again, his voice sounding oddly thick.

"With all my heart, Remus," Snape said decisively, all the nerve endings of his naked body feeling excited by the close proximity of Lupin.

The hands that rested on his shoulders travelled up to his face and then Lupin was kissing him fully. Snape responded, but could only respond with his mouth. The rest of his body was held in the Levitation, although every part of it was pulsing with desire.

"I want to Claim you once more," Lupin whispered. "Properly and fully."

"Yes," Snape gasped, his throat dry and obstructed.

"Do you trust me, Severus, to Claim you fully?" Lupin said, behind him now.

"Yes," Snape just managed to say audibly, hot and muzzy with desire as he felt Lupin's hands clasp his shoulders and Lupin's body press against his back, Lupin's erection pressed hard between his buttocks.

Lupin's hands then travelled along Snape's outstretched arms until they held Snape's hands, both of them now in a figure T. Lupin was kissing his shoulder and up his neck, and Snape moved his head to one side as Lupin sucked on the trapezius muscle between his neck and shoulder, and then drew it in between his teeth and bit down slowly, stinging pain at first then sharp pain followed and a hiss of pain escaped Snape. It was a far deeper bite than those small bites he'd received before and pain spread out in tendrils through Snape's body. He did not flinch, despite the pain. He trusted Lupin and knew this would be more intense than those small Claiming bites and he wanted to surrender to it. He wanted the reward he knew would follow.

Lupin had nearly bitten through the muscle when he drew the blood into his mouth and probed the wound with his tongue deeply, delivering his own magical saliva into the wound to heal it and to suffuse it with his lupine Claim. Snape felt those tendrils of pain slowly lighten until they were pure pleasure and he gradually became delirious with his own throbbing desire.

"Do you trust me Severus?" Lupin rasped into his neck.

"Completely," Snape gasped.

Lupin grasped the hands he was holding outwards and brought Snape's arms into his sides and wrapped his arms around Snape's body, and then Snape felt himself squeezed in side-along Apparition.

They Apparated and Snape felt the mountain air stroke his skin on the front of his body and inhaled the sharp, astringent air and it energised his desire more and he groaned with heightened pleasure. Lupin was still pressed behind him, his arms wrapped around Snape's body, his hands stroking Snape's chest and his thumbs abrading Snape's nipples as Lupin attended the new Claiming bite with his mouth and tongue, moaning and pressing harder and rubbing against Snape's backside as he did so.

As Lupin tongued the bite urgently and more deeply, Snape found himself losing all awareness once more, by degrees ceasing to think, to hear, to smell or to sense anything other than the bliss of Lupin's Kiss.

And then bliss was all he knew until Lupin called him to his release.

He heard Lupin call his name, the voice hoarse with barely contained desire. He felt his own hot desire, as he gradually came to, Lupin looking him in the eyes, the blindfold banished, cold stone beneath his back and full with Lupin's cock deliciously embedded deep within him as one leg was draped high over one of Lupin's arms and the other held by Lupin to the side of his chest. Lupin began to thrust, almost pitching Snape into his orgasm immediately, his nerve endings were so tense and taut with pleasure already. He held on, almost whimpering with the intensity of it as he noticed the air seemed to crackle around them and static began to build in the air, setting his nerves further on edge.

Lupin was rolling into Snape now, moaning his name repeatedly, his rolls trying to penetrate deeper than was possible. Snape, although now free to move, could barely do more than claw at Lupin's muscled back and cry out, the friction building inside him and the waves of pleasure were so intense and regular as Lupin drove against his prostate.

Rain began to fall on them, large heavy drops seeming to explode on their bare skin. There were rumbles of thunder drawing ever nearer and the sky lit up with lightning and the rain came down harder. The two men writhed and moaned together, driven by their own lust and love, by the Wolf's Kiss but also by the deep natural earth magic of the stone on which they coupled which gave approving ancient energy to their desperate craving for each other in return for the offering they made upon this primeval pagan stone of their deep passion and desire.

The rain was driving now, as the wind whipped around them and the thunder shook the air. Lightning forked and raw electicity rent the air enervating the lovers, coming to earth around the stone, searing its presence on their retinas, but not on their consciousness as each now thrust against each other in frenzied, feral lust.

Lupin bent in to tongue the bite forcefully, sending Snape into an orgasm of such ferocity as made him cry out and his eyes water, as Snape's muscles clenched and pumped Lupin's cock to an orgasm of equal ferocity that he cried out too although neither was heard against the deeply resonant roll of the thunder around them. As their orgasms pulsed, the men both continued to groan breathlessly, such were the physical exertions their bodies were slowly retreating from.

Drenched through, Lupin fell against Snape and they both struggled to regain their breath until Lupin was strong enough to gather Snape in his arms and Apparate them back to the farmhouse sitting room floor. Although a summer's night, Snape lit a fire in the grate as Lupin Conjured a large blanket to wrap around them both as they lay shivering before the fire, physically spent and emotionally charged.

Trust had been bestowed and also proven, and that which was lost was reclaimed.

 


	26. Unwelcome News

"Are you a Seer?" Snape asked, wrapped in the blanket leaning against the architrave of the kitchen door watching Lupin intently as Lupin found some cold meat, cheese, bread and pickles for them. They were both ravenous even though it was now the small hours of the following morning.

"What makes you ask that?" Lupin smiled as he put the food on a tray, and fetched two bottles of Butterbeer from the cupboard.

"What we did on the mountain – we saw that in your mind, do you remember?" Snape took the bottles from Lupin and led him back to the sitting room, where they sat on the blanket by the fire, with their indoor picnic.

As usual, Lupin ate as if it were his last meal. _A man of appetites_ , Snape thought, _and such appetites!_ Snape preferred to feast his eyes on Lupin's naked form than on anything else. Even watching Lupin move was deeply satisfying – Snape was happier than ever to be in his company once more.

"The summit gets regular electrical storms. I've often been caught in them when I've been walking. They're terrifically energising to a wizard. That's been a particular fantasy of mine as soon as I thought of bringing you here." He smiled lasciviously at Snape, making Snape's groin flare immediately. "It was probably luck there was that storm tonight of all nights – but maybe, just maybe, the ancient magic was kind to us. What do you think?" Lupin's tone sounded quite luscious to Snape. He was just entranced.

"Maybe. In fact, probably," Snape said quietly, watching Lupin's mouth as he spoke, thinking he had never felt such a magical place as the summit of that mountain. He still felt as if small charges of electricity were firing off his skin.

"Severus, please eat. Before you leave here, I shall plump you up." He gave a small laugh. "Possibly not enough time to plump you up before September, but at least I'd like you to be the same weight you were before I left Hogwarts." Lupin traced a finger over one of Snape's visible ribs, then pressed his palm to Snape's stomach and leaned in to kiss him and said softly, "You've been very ill, Severus. We need to take care of you. Please."

Snape smiled and stroked his beloved Lupin's face, feeling very emotional suddenly. "Am I staying for the rest of the summer?" He had assumed nothing.

"Of course. You do still want to, don't you, Severus?" Lupin said, still holding Snape, who nodded. "Excellent. You can fetch what you need from your home and we've still enough time to do some of what we wanted. I don't have the list; do you?" With one hand still resting on Snape's stomach, Lupin helped himself to a huge hunk of bread and cheese.

"I don't think so," Snape said quietly, not wanting to admit he'd destroyed it and how.

"Not to worry. We'll start from scratch as we've less time than we planned and we'll need to write off the first week at least," Lupin said happily.

"Why is that?" Snape asked, eating now with more gusto.

"I think that's the absolute minimum time I need in bed with you, or I won't be trustworthy in public. The moon is waxing after all." He laughed heartily, squeezing Snape's side and then looking very obviously at every inch of Snape's body as he ate.

Sitting there, naked on a blanket, with a picnic and a werewolf – the mental picture struck Snape as so extraordinary as to be the stuff of fantasy itself. When they'd nearly finished the food, he leant forward to Lupin and kissed him deeply. "Thank you for taking me back," he purred to Lupin's ear.

"It would have broken my heart not to," Lupin said, pressing his head to Snape's mouth. "I wanted this so very much." He turned to face Snape to kiss him, more and more passionately with each kiss, and then moving the food remnants to one side, he pressed Snape back to the floor and made love to him as gently, lovingly and devastatingly as a man could.

* * *

The spectacular dawn brought an owl to the bedroom window, which Snape let in as Lupin slept. It had the day's newspaper and a letter ... for him. _Albus._

_Dear boy,_

_My wards tell me you are with Remus. I am trusting all has gone well as you are still there. In the hopes that I am correct, I have arranged for the ingredients for Remus's Wolfsbane Potion to be delivered to you there. I am assuming, I hope not presumptuously, that you will obtain your own equipment from home. There is a small Potions lab at Plas du in the cellar, but not nearly so well-equipped to deal with Wolfsbane._

_Just a gentle reminder to be back at Hogwarts by 20th August. You will recall we have a certain tournament and your input is, of course, invaluable, as always. Perhaps, Remus will be able to accompany you at least until the term starts, if that helps your plans._

_Your devoted friend always, Albus_

Snape's heart sank. Ten days lost. They would not even have a month. He had no interest in the Tri Wizard Tournament. He knew it had been in the planning for ages. Usually, he would be grateful for the excuse to get back to Hogwarts early from Spinner's End, but not this time. Dumbledore seemed to be suggesting he smuggle Lupin in for those ten days. Well, he just might – he just might.

He left the letter on the side table and found his shirt and trousers and made his way to the kitchen to see what he could find for Lupin's breakfast – in bed, obviously, because this is what he'd heard people did on holiday, and he was certain Lupin liked to exercise all his appetites in bed. It seemed rather wanton to him, and he smiled broadly – it felt strange to smile so broadly. Yes, he was very much enjoying being wanton.

As a Potions Master, he was also an excellent cook. He cooked for his parents when he was young, but he'd never really cooked for anyone else, and rarely bothered with food for himself at Spinner's End, but cookery spoke to his innate abilities and skill and he had mastered it quickly. He very much liked the idea of catering for _all_ of Lupin's appetites.

He systematically rifled the larder, the cupboards and the fridge and re-ordered both, in a manner he was relatively sure would madden both Lupin and Dumbledore. He smirked to himself. Nothing made more sense than by food group and then alphabetical order, he didn't care what anyone else thought. Then he located what he wanted and prepared a lovers' breakfast of eggs Benedict.

This was a breakfast he had watched Mrs. Evans cook for Mr. Evans on Valentines' Day morning when he and Lily were 10. He remembered being transfixed watching Lily help her mother in the kitchen first to make the muffins from scratch and only once they were done to make the sauce, grill the bacon and poach the eggs to perfection. Whilst his own muffins were baking, Snape remembered the Evanses.

It was easy to see from whom Lily had got her loving and patient temperament. He liked to visit the Evans household and watching Lily's mother in the kitchen was like seeing a fairytale come true – at least, it was to Severus Snape. Mrs. Evans was always loving and smiling and patient with her girls. She even had enough affection left over for him when he'd visit: neglected ragbag that he was, full of resentment at his pitiful appearance and suspicious of adult affection. Within months of meeting Lily's parents, he used to day dream they were his own. He would pretend to disdain Mrs. Evans's random hugs, but relish them secretly. Mr. Evans, whilst affectionate with his daughters, never imposed himself on Snape, seeming to understand his wariness of men. Looking back, Snape could see Mr. Evans recognised Snape's odd flinches and mistrust and seemed to approach Snape as one would a maltreated dog one wanted to settle. He was a kind, open and hearty man. _Not unlike Remus_ , he thought, _always looking for the best in people._ Even in the frightful Petunia. He sighed sadly remembering with affection the long-departed storybook parents and his beautiful Lily in the warmth and mouth-watering smells of the kitchen.

There: it was done. He found a tray and laid out the breakfast on it and took it into Lupin, who was now awake, though still drowsy.

"What is that marvellous smell, Severus?" he croaked as he watched the tray approaching. Lupin Levitated the tray whilst Severus undressed and got back into bed. "I think you must be my dark angel," Lupin said, looking at the spread and then at Snape. They fed each other eggs Benedict and drank orange juice and tea, and when there was not one scrap left, Lupin vanished the tray to the kitchen then took Snape greedily once more.

* * *

It was past lunchtime before they left the bed to bathe. It was only as they bathed together facing each other, Lupin's legs under his, to wash each other that Snape saw he had more than one Claiming bite. On his chest were two, one over each of his nipples, and another between his stomach and hip on the right hand side. They were as deep and puckered with teeth marks as the one on his neck. He supposed Lupin must have done these whilst he was in his state of bliss for he had no recollection of them at all.

Lupin confirmed it. "These bites will not fade like the others, and there is one other," he said, getting that unfocused look as he did whenever he looked at a Claiming bite. He slid his finger to Snape's perineum, and stroked there so lightly it was almost not touching, but Snape felt the Claiming bite as if it shocked him. "They will give us pleasure together, and, if necessary, if we are apart," Lupin said enigmatically.

Snape's eyebrows rose. "Tell me," he said hoarsely, as Lupin's finger still traced the lowest bite, thrilling Snape to his core and he lay back to the back of the bath to savour the mesmeric touch.

"Not now. Later." Lupin's voice was deep and thick. Snape was drifting away from Lupin's voice, drifting on a thrilling sensation as his mind clicked out of focus, and as the finger stroked, Snape felt his body being pulled towards Lupin's sitting body and hips lifted as Lupin's cock pushed into him and completed the thrill taking it to a higher intensity, as Snape wrapped his legs tightly around Lupin. Snape's eyes rolled back in ecstasy at the feel of both stiff erection and dexterous finger working him and that his muscles in turn clenched tightly and pulled rhythmically against Lupin's cock. He was panting hard, delirious with sexual ecstasy, hearing Lupin moaning, louder and louder, until Lupin stroked at the bite almost desperately and they both came hard together. What wouldn't these Kisses of Lupin's deliver, he wondered in awe.

* * *

They walked the mountainside together that afternoon. Snape had shown Lupin the letter from Dumbledore. Lupin was astounded that Dumbledore had set his wards to alert him to visitors; Snape, however, wasn't. Lupin was also disappointed that their time at the farmhouse was to be cut short but it didn't seem to cross his mind that he shouldn't follow Snape back to Hogwarts at least for those ten days.

"And when term starts," Snape said, "what will happen?" The bitter irony that it is was he who was responsible for Lupin having to leave Hogwarts galled Snape still. Such a life as that would have been as close to perfection as he could imagine.

Lupin asked Snape if he'd seen _The Daily Prophet_ the day following his departure. Snape felt his blood run cold and he pinched the bridge of his nose hard.

"I did," he said, closing his eyes slowly and then regarding Lupin frankly as they walked. "I don't know how I can apologise enough for that."

"You can't," Lupin said lightly. "It's all part and parcel of the same thing. If I put the carving behind us, then that must be put behind us too."

"I have ruined you and your reputation. How will you get work?" Snape asked, not understanding how Lupin could be so calm, but knowing Lupin had something to tell him.

"There are those who still grant me favours – Albus, Minerva, others from the old Order. The world is not my oyster, but there are those who will hire a hard-working werewolf nonetheless. I have a job set up for September. I've been waiting for the right time to tell you."

"I'm pleased of it, Remus," Snape said genuinely, the constriction around his heart loosening somewhat. "What will you be doing?"

"I've secured a nine month contract with Gringotts. Gringotts will even provide my Wolfsbane as part of the remuneration. They don't quite have the same prejudices as wizards."

"That's good, is it not? I've heard they pay well," Snape said, wondering where Lupin would live so he could visit him. It wouldn't be the same as living with him had been, but they would be able to Apparate or travel by Floo most nights.

Lupin looked at Snape, and Snape saw there was something else to come. "I'll be joining Bill Weasley's team in Egypt."

It was like an arrow to his heart. So very far away from him for an academic year! He stopped dead on the mountainside and stared at Lupin in horror.

"So far away?" he said weakly.

"I will visit you as often as I can," Lupin said earnestly.

"I'm always hearing one Weasley or another complaining their mother is upset because Bill or Charlie hardly ever visit," Snape said accusingly.

"She's their mother," Lupin laughed. "I'm sure there are many attractions for single men like Bill and Charlie where they are that overwhelm a man's desire to see his mother! However, you are my attraction and I will come to you as often as I can," he said resolutely.

Snape wondered if a man like Bill Weasley could be an attraction for Lupin. He suspected he could well be. He'd not been insensible to the attraction of the Titian-haired man himself. And Merlin knew he didn't suppose anyone could resist Remus Lupin's wolfish magnetism if he sought them out. He bit it back harshly. After how far they'd come over these twenty four hours, all their extraordinary love-making to say something like that would destroy everything. Snape bit his tongue - very hard indeed to stifle the monster that was already taking that morsel and nurturing it and engorging it within him.

"What ... er ...what will you be doing?" Snape forced himself to ask.

"Assisting with runic casting and counter-casting. Bill and I had a few conversations about it in the hospital wing when you were first taken there. Then when I had to leave Hogwarts, I received a letter from him about the position. I believe Albus put in a word for me. It was a god-send really."

 _Oh how very convenient for Mr Weasley. Got straight in as soon as there was a chink of light. Oh, and it was him who agonised my core, wasn't it, trying to remove my feelings for Remus. I'm sure that was accidental - oh of course it bloody well was!_ his mind spat venomously. He shook himself. He frightened himself how quickly he could lose control.

"Remus, take us home," he said, his head reeling.

"What's the matter, Severus? You've gone very pale," Lupin stepped up to him briskly, held him tightly and Apparated back to the farmhouse.

Once they were back in the sitting room, Lupin got Snape a glass of Firewhiskey and sat him down. Snape stood and put the glass down and started to pace the room.

"Talk to me, Severus. Is this because I will be away?" Lupin did sit, and took a glass for himself and watched Snape pace the small room, flexing his fingers. "You understand that I have to earn a living?" Snape did not respond, his mind still spinning. "What would you have me do?" Lupin insisted, starting to sound frustrated. He watched Snape until he finished his glass, then stood quickly in front of Snape and grabbed his wrists. "Stop this, Severus, and talk to me ... now," he said firmly, locking eyes with Snape. "Tell me why you are so troubled, Severus. Remember what we said yesterday." He pulled Snape closer to him. Snape could feel that Lupin was angry, but was suppressing his anger.

"I've only just got you back," Snape said, his voice hollow. "I don't want you to go so far away." He breathed in deeply. "I don't want you to go away with Bill Weasley," he hissed, wanting to retract the words, but knowing it was better Lupin heard them.

Lupin embraced him. "I knew there was something more. Oh Severus," he said softly. "How do you do this to yourself? A young man I've met a few times – who you actually know better than I. Why would you even think it? After I've Claimed you fully too." Lupin stroked Snape's hair. Snape felt foolish. There was such disappointment in Lupin's voice. He pressed his head into Lupin's shoulder.

"Why should Bill Weasley not want you, when I want you so very much? He is a far better looking man than I. How do I know the mistake in his casting wasn't deliberate," he spat. "After all, he wrote to you straight after you left Hogwarts." He looked at Remus and saw annoyance and not a little confusion. Snape took a step back. "I'm sorry, Remus, I am a foolish and jealous man," he said, feeling small.

"You are both, Severus. Such a conspiracy you've drawn for yourself in such a short time." Lupin sighed heavily. "But you have told me, and that is good for us." Lupin placed his thumb onto the bite on Snape's neck and slowly circled it gently, sending waves of calm washing over Snape, who relaxed into Lupin's chest. They stood for a while like this, then Lupin sat Snape down and passed him the glass again. This time, Snape took it, still feeling foolish but calm.

Lupin sat at Snape's feet, and poured himself another drink, draping his free arm over Snape's knee whilst Snape ran his finger through Lupin's hair.

"Tell me what you find attractive about Bill Weasley," Lupin said quietly.

"What?" Snape said, surprised by the question.

"Tell me. You said he was far better looking than you. So you've observed him closely. Tell me," Lupin said calmly, tracing a finger on Snape's leg. "I'm interested."

"I'm not," said Snape brusquely, looking at Lupin's head intently, wondering if he should be concerned. He had seen Lupin be possessive once before and it had been frightening. Just as that thought formed, he realised the cycle he initiated: his irrational jealousy provoking Lupin's possessiveness. He closed his eyes and ran his palm across his face. This was surely an abject lesson for him to try to rein in his temperament.

He leaned forward to kiss Lupin's head. "You are the only man I wish to look at. Please Remus, I'm just sorely disappointed." He draped his arms around Lupin's neck as Lupin raised his head to kiss him.

"Severus," he whispered, Snape thought wih a menacing edge to his voice, "jealousy can be a two-way street. Be careful of me." He kissed Snape again, then smiled briefly but his smile did not quite touch his eyes.

"I am faithful. Trust me on it. Never question me on it, not while you bear my marks." He took Snape's arms from himself gently and stood, his expression set, his jaw muscles visibly working. "I'll make dinner now." He left to go to the kitchen. Snape knew he was not to follow. He leant his elbows on his knees as he thought. He wondered if anyone jumped to conclusions as quickly as he did. He had spoilt their walk and spoilt the mood. He downed his glass. He remembered Dumbledore's letter and went to the kitchen. Lupin was chopping some vegetables, rather intensely, with a knife, not with magic.

"Remus, where is the door to the cellar Albus spoke of?" Snape said gingerly, seeing the man's mood had not lifted.

"Under the stairs," he said briskly, not looking up.

* * *

It was a relatively large cellar for the size of the house. It had obviously been designed partly as a root cellar with many different compartments. One part of it held a couple of work benches and some potion-making equipment but Dumbledore was right, it wasn't nearly sufficient for Snape. He'd brought a quill and parchment and started making a list of what was required. Tomorrow, he would go back to Spinner's End to collect what he needed.

He cast several hefty cleaning charms over the cellar to start with so that was one less job to do tomorrow. He turned to leave and something about the heavy wooden door caught his eye. He went to it and closed it so he could look at the inside surface. Deep long gouges scarred its surface. He looked around the cellar with fresh eyes, seeing gouges even made in the stone. Lupin had used this cellar to transform in the past before he had Wolfsbane. His stomach lurched wretchedly. Lupin did not deserve to have Snape making him miserable for no reason. He surely had enough of his own misery to contend with.

He returned to the kitchen and took Lupin in his arms roughly, raking his hair.

"I love you and I'm sorry," he said assertively, knowing it lacked eloquence, but not knowing what else to say. After a moment's stunned silence, Lupin returned the embrace and kissed him.

"So do I and so am I," he said to Snape's mouth and they kissed, then Lupin moved quickly away to rescue a boiling saucepan.

After dinner, Snape finished his list of equipment and other things to bring from Spinner's End and then wrote a note to Albus to send when the owl arrived with the Wolfsbane supplies.

"I can transform in the cellar, if it makes you more comfortable," Lupin suggested.

"You will do no such thing," Snape said. "I am your guest. If I need to, I can Apparate back to Spinner's End. Why should you have to spend the night in that hole if you are not dangerous? I can be back for moonset to tend you, if necessary – as we used to."

"As we used to," Lupin agreed, smiling softly at Snape.

* * *

They slipped into bed together and Lupin pulled Snape on top of him, to kiss him passionately.

"I know you struggle with your jealousy, Severus. You must never stop struggling against it, and you must trust me," Lupin said softly. "We can be what we want to be if we have faith in each other. I have Claimed you and you alone bear my marks. You are a remarkably passionate man and you excite me more than you realise." Lupin stroked Snape's face, never removing his gaze from Snape's eyes. "You know how I have trusted you as no man before you. I trust you still. Do not dishonour my trust in you Severus by believing I would allow it to another. Take me now and feel my trust in you."

Snape moaned Lupin's name low in his throat and lay slowly on top of him just for the feel of their skin together and of their erections side by side, his weight on his elbows. Lupin rubbed his hips against Snape's as they licked and sucked each other's neck and ground against each other relatively gently as Snape breathed deeply to contain himself so he would not rush or squander this time that was always so special to him.

He knew the truth of Lupin's words. He needed to impress them into his mind to use as a shield against his violent insecurities so they didn't assail him at the least opportunity and spoil this love. He and Lupin had been through so much, forgiven each other so much, given each other so much. To Snape's mind, they were more than special. They were blessed if he could just trust.

He needed to impress this love-making into his heart and soul so he was slow and sure; gentle but passionate; stimulating Lupin in every way he knew aroused him so he could imprint Lupin's mounting ardour in his mind – his aroused expressions, his sensual and guttural noises increasing to his pleas for more and culminating in his cries of release – all under his hand and on his cock. Nothing had ever aroused him more. Nothing could release him physically and mentally as this man could – fully and completely.

 


	27. Well Met by Moonlight

The ingredients for the Wolfsbane Potion arrived by owl in the morning and Snape sent his acknowledging note to Dumbledore with the returning owl. He checked it all and placed it in the cellar and then made breakfast for them both.

As they ate, Lupin noted Snape's pensive mood. He didn't want to go to his house and his reluctance was evident.

"Will it help if I come with you?" Lupin asked gently.

"Nothing helps, except I'll be coming back to you as soon as I can. I don't want you in that place. It is a place of unhappiness and you should always be separate from it," Snape said dully. Lupin rested his hand on Snape's shoulder and squeezed gently but Snape's mood did not lift.

* * *

Snape Apparated to a mews a few roads away from his house. His heart sank as soon as he took in the grime and dereliction around him. He hated this place with a passion. He kept it as a base purely for the summer. He didn't consider it his home – Hogwarts was his home. Spinner's End was a place he waited for summer to end; a place where he stored his beloved books that didn't fit in his dungeon quarters; a place to stow his ghosts of his unhappy childhood. It wasn't home. Even when he was young, his heart didn't reside here. It resided with the Evanses in the more salubrious part of town, with their pretty flower garden in the front, Mrs. Evans's pride and joy, and their vegetable garden in the back, the domain of Mr. Evans. A neat house, although never tidy, but always clean and warm and ... lived in.

 _Unlike this_ , he thought, reaching the front door of the tiny terraced house, typical of the industrial North of England. It was a grey and sombre house, shabby and unwelcoming. He'd sell it, but it had little value. He inhaled deeply and let himself in to a musty and haunted world of memories of violence and indifference.

* * *

He was back within three hours, pockets of his robe bulging with shrunken packages of clothes, toiletries, books and equipment. He strode straight into the kitchen where Lupin was preparing lunch and kissed him hungrily. It may only have been three hours, but to Snape it was like travelling between hell and heaven. Lupin responded with vigour, almost bending Snape backwards.

"Food first," he breathed, circling his thumb on Snape's bite, which calmed him even through his cravat he'd insisted on wearing as he was travelling.

Snape nodded, holding Lupin's hand as if it were a talisman. "I should start your Potion after lunch anyway," he said, almost apologetically. "Then we'll be free while it has its first stage brewing."

* * *

Snape had set up all of his equipment on one of the work benches in the cellar and affixed a clock and his Potion-spattered wall charts he'd brought with him and was double checking the ingredients Dumbledore sent against his own well-thumbed brewing diary. It looked for all the world as if this was Snape's home and he had always brewed in this cellar.

Lupin was sitting on a stool at the empty and scrubbed work bench next to it, watching Snape with avid interest as Snape started to prepare the ingredients – chopping, shredding, mashing, skinning, measuring – all with the consummate ease of the master that he was, and the intense concentration that marked the man. Soon, all ingredients were ready and lined up in order of addition.

Lupin moved closer, not taking his eyes away from Snape as he worked fastidiously checking his equipment again. Lupin stroked the side of Snape's face and then tucked Snape's hair behind his ear.

"You're extraordinary, you know," he murmured seductively.

"Nonsense." Snape waved a slim hand dismissively, still checking the integrity of some of the phials and beakers. "I can't be interrupted once I start, Remus. This Potion could easily spoil if my timings aren't exact. I'll have an aperture for you in ..." he checked the clock above him, "two hour and fifteen minutes."

Lupin brushed a hand over one of Snape's buttocks and left his hand there, his fingers poised over the cleavage between Snape's buttocks, and then he stroked his hand under the band of Snape's trousers and started to stroke there softly. "An aperture ..." Lupin murmured meaningfully. "Can I have that aperture now instead?" He clasped his free hand to Snape's hip, standing against him.

Snape screwed his eyes shut, sighing heavily as his groin flared up. He just could not resist this man's touch but he wasn't feeling loving. He needed something different to that today. He placed the beakers down and pushed himself back into Lupin's waiting hands which grasped and stroked him greedily. He sidled to the empty bench and braced his hands on it.

"Take me like this, Remus," he said firmly, bending forwards over the bench. "I need it like this."

Lupin didn't object, although Snape knew this wasn't to his taste. Perhaps he understood why Snape needed this now.

Lupin released the cord of Snape's trousers and pulled them down and Snape stepped one foot out so his ankles were free. Then Lupin then stepped out of his own and pulled off his own shirt, then Snape's. He rubbed Snape's backside, and clutched at it in desire and then started working Snape's opening with his fingers. Snape found he was very ready. His desire was raw and primal and pulled painfully on his groin in urgency.

Lupin thrust in without further preparation or tenderness, groaning at Snape's hotness and Snape pushed back hard, leaned further forward, pushing his arse higher, and spread his legs for Lupin to go deep. Lupin responded, driving into him hard and deep, making him cry out lustfully, as Lupin grunted ferally.

"Fuck me, Remus. Fuck me hard. Please. I need it this way," he growled through gritted teeth, pushing back hard on Lupin's cock. His groin burned for it. His body yearned for it. Lupin set a punishing pace as he pushed Snape's body fully to the bench with an outstretched arm, and Snape snarled, "Yes, harder!"

Lupin fucked him punishingly and noisily, exactly as Snape wanted, bruising his hips and thighs against the bench as Lupin bucked and snapped unforgivingly into him, keeping up the pace far longer than Snape could believe, but he took it all greedily. It cleansed him. It purged him. It drove out all thoughts of Spinner's End – the stench, the sound, the sights, the memories, the anger. All he wanted was the white searing heat of Lupin fucking him sending waves of purging rapture over him. It was all he felt as he came with a guttural roar followed quickly by Lupin's own hard, pulsing orgasm and cries.

Lupin slumped onto Snape's body, both sweating and breathing hard. As he recovered, he pulled Snape back with him and he sat on the stool, still inside Snape, now perched on his lap, his legs apart, resting his hands on Lupin's thighs to steady himself. Lupin put his arms around Snape's waist and kissed his shoulder joint as he slid from Snape.

 _Dear Remus, who cannot bear the thought of being harsh and unloving and has to make up for it even now._ He smiled fondly as Lupin feathered Snape's shoulder with kisses and caressed his stomach, even though it was covered in Snape's own sperm. Lupin looked at Snape and smiled back and they kissed. It had been cathartic for Snape. He knew Lupin didn't fully understand, but at least now he knew it didn't mean Snape didn't love him, just that occasionally, he needed something _other_ to help him cope with his pent up rage, and to have it from Lupin made Snape love him even more.

* * *

With the Wolfsbane Potion well on the way, and Lupin's sex fest under control (which had lasted longer than the threatened week), it was time for them to re-stock the larder. Lupin Apparated with Snape to the town of Welshpool, which had a small wizarding community, separate from that of the Muggles. As they strode down the wizarding High Street, Lupin took hold of Snape's hand, startling him with such public show of affection.

They stood for a while, Snape, stiff and formal, looking at their joined hands, Lupin, relaxed and nonchalant, looking at Snape. Snape looked up slowly to Lupin to say something. Lupin smiled at him and shook his head.

"Not negotiable, Severus," he said firmly, held his hand more tightly and moved off. There was an unknown fluttering in Snape's stomach. He thought it might be pride. Proud to be seen with this handsome man who wanted the world to know he was his. He didn't think he could do this in Diagon Alley or in Hogsmeade, but they weren't known here, and it was all about small steps, wasn't it?

* * *

It was the day of the full moon at last. Snape had bathed with Lupin, taking care of him exactly how he had before. He didn't think of that fateful full moon. They were far beyond that now. He was so completely immersed in Lupin now and Lupin was in him. These were his days to care for Lupin. They made love in the morning, Snape taking Lupin gently, caring for him in a different way. Lupin didn't eat much on this day. They took a short stroll for fresh air then read together companionably. The day rolled away from them.

It would be moonrise shortly and Snape still hadn't left the farmhouse. He felt an odd tugging at his gut, and every time he thought of leaving to Apparate, he felt quite nauseous. Lupin had prepared, and was undressed in a chair, looking very weary. Snape could see he was already in pain with the moon drawing on his body. He went to him and perched on the arm of his chair, placing his arms around him gently and Lupin laid his head on Snape's lap.

"I don't want to leave you," Snape said suddenly. "In fact, I don't think I can." His stomach flipped with worry, but instinct told him he needed to be with his mate. Rationally, he told himself, he had brewed the Wolfsbane, he knew the quality of his brew. It would be safe. But, deep down, he knew, he would stay even without Wolfsbane. He knew it in his blood.

"Thank the gods," Lupin said weakly. "I wanted to beg you to stay, but I didn't want you to be afraid. You are my mate: I need to be with you. I didn't realise how strong the pull would be." Lupin hugged Snape's thighs on which he rested his aching head.

Snape carded his fingers through Lupin's hair and they waited together

The moon rose, Snape's stomach started to churn and in that instant, Lupin became rigid. Snape moved away, slowly and calmly, although he did not feel calm. Lupin's limbs began to shake and the sitting room was filled with the horrifying sound of bones, large and small, breaking and tissue tearing and Lupin's voice rising from moans of pain to screams of agony. His form began to shift and undulate, all parts of him re-shaping and re-forming and hair sprouting and covering the whole of him as he transformed and the scream altered in his altered throat to a howl. Snape watched, horrified at the sights and sounds of it.

The howling slowly decreased and became whimpering and panting, as the form now settled into the wolf. Snape still held his breath. _Merlin, if I haven't brewed it right, it will all be over soon_ , he thought wildly.

There the wolf stood tall. Tawny and grey, a handsome alpha wolf with his high tail. He was as beautiful a wolf as he was a man. Snape stared in admiration at the animal. He knew Remus Lupin had his mind: the wolf's eyes were not red. They had the lambent gold of a wolf, but were soft and intelligent, like Lupin.

Snape squatted on his haunches, his elbows on his thighs and held both hands out. The wolf padded over to him and nuzzled and licked the open hands.

"Remus," Snape smiled as he ruffled the wolf's magnificent crest and breathed in his fur. The wolf panted and barked excitedly, and nuzzled his hands again and then licked Snape's face. It made Snape laugh heartily, a sound quite alien to him. "Bad wolf," he laughed, pulling the wolf's crest to pull him off, but the wolf was too strong for him and pushed him over, licking his face and wagging his tail madly. Snape almost howled with laughter at the wolf's antics, its tongue and hot breath tickled. He had never expected that the wolf would want to play.

The wolf darted off and scampered across the room, barking, and then came charging back to bark at Snape, and then charged back and forth again. "What? You want to play chase, you lunatic, Remus? In here?" Snape laughed.

The wolf padded to the front door and pawed it and turned to look expectantly at Snape, panting.

"Well, you're not dangerous," Snape said as he approached the door. "Do you want to run?" The wolf barked. "Merlin, I'll bet you do." He scratched the wolf's neck. "Remus, I'll bet if you run as a wolf now, it'll blow your mind. Just imagine feeling your wolf's power with your human mind." He stared at the wolf. "I envy you." He knelt and wrapped his arms around the wolf's ruff and nuzzled the wolf's neck. Then he opened the door for the wolf to run.

The wolf stood tense on the threshold, alert and scenting the air, whilst Snape marvelled at Lupin's beauty and the palpable power of the wolf. The wolf turned to Snape and barked again, one ear cocked and made a starting motion and then stopped and looked at Snape again and barked.

"I'm no bloody animagus, Remus. I can't run with you." He ruffled the wolf's fur. "Though by Merlin and Nimue, I wish I could," he said quietly. "You can't possibly want a stroll with me." He ruffled the wolf again affectionately, utterly besotted with the beauty of the wolf.

The wolf shuffled backwards over the threshold and darted to the door for the cellar and barked.

"You can't want to go in there."

The wolf pawed the handle and looked at Snape with a bark and a small whine, then Snape opened the door and the wolf went in and turned to the corner of the landing in front of the stairs that led downwards. He scratched at the wall there and looked at Snape again with a small whine. Snape looked. The wolf was pawing a broomstick. Snape took hold of it and the wolf barked and kicked his hind legs out to scamper to the front door, waiting and panting, its upright tail wagging furiously.

"You want me to fly?" The wolf barked excitedly. Snape chuckled and scratched the wolf's head again. "Why not? Why not indeed?" Snape muttered and smiled at Remus.

He put his boots on and a jacket against the night air, the wolf pacing by the front door's threshold in his impatience.

Snape took the broom and lifted off gently and flew a little ahead. The wolf barked and leapt about like a cub, then he started to run. He ran hard and Snape followed low on the broom. The wolf took off through the field and Snape came after, laughing more freely than he could ever remember at the excitement of the wolf unleashed. _Merlin's beard, Remus was fast!_

The wolf ran up the scree slopes, sure footed and agile as Snape passed over him and then lowered himself over his broom so he was eye to eye with the wolf as they both flew upwards. The wolf barked as if in joy.

Severus Snape was running with the wolf and it was the most exhilarating thing he had ever felt. The night air of the mountains seared his lungs and his heart pumped hard in his excitement. As they scaled the mountain, Snape whooped and rolled his broom.

They reached the summit and the wolf mounted the stone as Snape hovered next to him. The wolf howled to the moon, not the mournful, forlorn sound Snape associated with wolves, but a cry of triumph, a crow of satisfaction, an ejaculation of joy and freedom. It made Snape's heart soar as he wondered what Lupin must be feeling now. No blood lust, his own mind in a powerful, primal body in which to run like the wind itself. What that must feel like! _Imagine the power!_ Snape thought in wonder. It was as free as Remus Lupin had ever been and it choked Snape that he could be part of it.

The wolf howled again, and Snape whooped and turned the broom over and the wolf danced to catch him. They played this game at the summit until the wolf tired of it, and suddenly tore down the mountain at a terrific pace and Snape banked his broom and followed, the wind whipping his hair as he leaned low keeping pace with the ecstatic wolf's speed.

The wolf reached the lake's edge and danced and barked at Snape, then plunged into the water.

"Forget it, lunatic!" Snape laughed. "You're on your own for a moonlight swim. You've got a fur coat – I'll freeze." He hovered over the wolf, watching it paddle around. He couldn't remember how many years it had been since he had flown for the sheer pleasure of flying.

Another memory of Lily surfaced from his long ago. They'd both learned to fly together at Hogwarts. Their Houses took flying lessons together, as now. He'd had a hard time from Potter and Black even then. He wasn't a natural on a broom and certainly hadn't had the type of practice that they had both had at their much-vaunted ancestral homes, with their expensive brooms that they boasted of, but weren't allowed to bring to school. No matter their advantages, they ragged on him mercilessly. So Lily and he had practised by themselves after classes with Rolanda's supervision. They became good fliers, although neither of them was good enough for Quidditch, but they enjoyed flying for flying's sake. They flew together often, sometimes just together on the one broomstick. Snape had loved those times the most, when Lily would sit on the broom behind him, with her hands around his waist, her laugh tinkling in the air. Happy times. Yes, he did have some happy times. Sometimes, he forgot.

He was still hovering protectively over the wolf, who had now made it to the other side of the lake. The wolf scrambled out as Snape lowered his broom. The wolf shook himself of excess water and danced at Snape and they played chase again, the wolf yipping like an over-excited cub. Snape suspected when Lupin was a werewolf cub, he'd had no such pleasures as this.

The wolf tore off again, and Snape saw he was homeward bound. The wolf barked and kicked his hind legs in excitement and ran whilst Snape sped from side to side over and alongside him. The wolf slowed its pace as the farmhouse came into view and trotted along looking at Snape. Snape thought he understood, and dismounted from his broom and walked alongside the wolf, his free hand immersed in the wolf's magnificent crest as they walked together.

Dawn was approaching. Mountain song birds began their chorus and Snape's senses were alive to it all. He crouched before the wolf and hugged it and they crossed the threshold. The wolf padded over to a corner of the sitting room, but Snape grabbed its scruff.

"No, Remus. You transform in comfort from now on," he said firmly and led the wolf to the bedroom. He spread out a blanket over the bedclothes, and patted the bed and the wolf jumped up and turned in circles in the centre and then settled down. Snape sat on the bedroom stool and waited as the air became palpably tense. And as he waited, his stomach started to churn violently exactly at the same moment as the wolf began to whimper. The whimper became a forlorn whine as the wolf stood rigid and started to tremble violently. The whine rose and became louder until it was a howl. Snape heard the cracking of all of the animal's bones simultaneously and the tearing of its tissues and watched in renewed horror how the animal's form undulated, stretched and wrought itself a new form, the howling turning to guttural screaming as the man's form emerged. Snape moved swiftly to the bed to catch Lupin when he returned. When Lupin's form finally set, the screaming gradually eased, replaced keening then by the hitching of breath and whimpering of residual pain and Snape caught Lupin as he fell forward, gasping for air and slumped over Snape.

Snape laid him back and checked every part of Lupin for injury, using his eyes and hands, and then double checking with his wand. Lupin still whimpered and Snape hushed him gently as one would a babe. He wrapped Lupin in the blanket and Levitated him into the bed itself.

He stood with one hand in his own hair, scratching his head. Could it be? He found no trace of a single injury. Not even so much as a bruise or graze. Just exhaustion from the transformation. He was sure it was because Lupin had run in the moonlight. He thanked the magic of this place with all his heart, as he undressed and laid himself next to Lupin to watch over his sleep.

 


	28. The Holiday Makers

The list was much shorter than it had been when they compiled it together at Hogwarts months ago, but Lupin tried to pick just a few places that he thought would interest Snape most for a few days during the last couple of weeks they had together of their holiday. A few places were local to where they were, and one further afield.

"It won't be as comprehensive as we hoped, but we have all our summers to come, after all," Lupin said warmly, hugging Snape to him. He looked at the new list again and smiled broadly. "But today, today I taking you to see the dragons of all dragons and it's on our doorstep!"

At dawn, Lupin and Snape Apparated to the foothills of Dinas Emrys – the city of Emrys – of Merlin Emrys himself - a lushly wooded hillock with the remains of an old hill fort from the time of Vortigern and Merlin. They walked the banks of the River Glaslyn, talking and taking in the scenery and listening to the birdsong before tackling the slopes, tricky in places, until they gained the summit where they sat and took in the panorama, eating the breakfast that Snape had prepared to take with them.

"The red dragon of the Britons fought with the white dragon of the invading English," Lupin explained. "These were those nations' champions. Dragons of enormous size and preternatural strength and magic. The fight between these magnificent creatures was so terrible that the land itself and all female creatures and women on the land became barren. The king of the Britons, on the advice of his brother, the king of Gaul, tricked and trapped the dragons in a cauldron of mead below this hill fort, where they battle still and will until they are released to fight to the death and for victory. Do you hear them Severus?" Lupin lay with his ear to the ground, his hands splayed out as if he could feel through those hands, and so Snape followed suit.

He watched Lupin become entranced listening for the sounds of the great dragons. As he watched, thinking it was some kind of werewolf lunacy, the creatures' magic caught him and he heard! He heard the tremendous prehistoric roaring of flaming rage and of clashing jaws in a frenzy of warring that could never cease for these creatures captured and suspended in time. He felt the resonance of their clamour reverberate through his bones to his very core. He and Lupin lay there, listening to the battle of two thousand years, transfixed by the supernatural suspension of the nations' champions, forever keeping those nations divided unless they were released by the once and future king. It left Snape physically shaken, so deeply had he felt the existence of the subterranean captives.

It was early afternoon before they left that enchanted place, and Apparated again to the second place on their list for the day. Not far from the Glaslyn Valley was the Grove of the Magicians. It held a thick grove of oak trees where Vortigern's wise men used to meet. Their graves were marked in an adjacent field, marked by an ancient white thorn tree. To any visiting Muggles, they were just fields. To Snape and Lupin, they held the magic of ages: vibrant, alive and invigorating.

"Where would you be buried, if you had a choice?" Lupin asked, gazing at the ancient tree.

"If I had a choice, I wouldn't die," Snape said sarcastically.

"Well, it comes to us all," Lupin responded tartly.

"I wouldn't be buried at all. I want a funeral pyre to respect the old ways. I used to want to have my body sent for burning on the lake at Hogwarts. Now, I think I'd like my pyre to be on the summit of Cadr Idris," he looked away from Lupin feeling himself blush. "It gave you back to me, and I would give it my final offering as thanks." He looked up at Lupin and smiled a small smile and hoped he hadn't embarrassed Lupin – he was still so unused to being able to express himself verbally, but he was trying.

Lupin embraced him and kissed him. "I want what you want, Severus, and I want that with you. It's beautiful," he said softly to his mate, held him closer and Apparated home so he could love him more.

* * *

Of all the ancient magic standing stones in Britain, the ones Lupin most wanted to introduce to Snape were Long Meg and her daughters. It was a fine stone circle in Cumbria, large at a circumference of 350 foot, and well preserved, some three thousand five hundred years old. They dressed in Muggle clothes today for the sake of the many Muggle tourists who thronged the site. Snape wore a black cambric shirt and jeans, Lupin wore a loose white Indian cotton shirt and khaki trousers. Snape thought that Lupin made Muggle clothes look attractive. He liked that he could see the length and contours of Lupin's throat and Lupin's muscled lower arms, where he'd rolled up his sleeves. The sight of it made a thrill shoot down Snape's jaw. He shook himself slightly as they readied to leave.

"Severus, when I first visited this, it blew my mind, it's so charged with magic," Lupin said excitedly, pulling Snape along. "The legend is that the largest stone, Long Meg, was a witch and all satellite stones were her daughters and all were turned to stone during a witches' sabbat for profaning the Christian sabbath. Of course, it's nonsense. Muggles never did understand the profound magic of the standing stones themselves and that they are not transfigured human beings, but magical in their own right. Many of them become confused if they stand within the circle and cannot count the number of stones but if they manage it, they no longer feel the magic."

"The stones Confund them?" Snape said, with a smirk.

"Yes, to keep them away," Lupin smiled broadly.

Long Meg herself was about 12 foot high and Snape stood before her, considering the three runes carved into her face. "Here is the Confundus charm," he said, and Lupin came to look. Snape could feel the deep magic resonating within the stone, charging his own magic.

"You know we should honour the standing stones," Lupin murmured into Snape's ear, as he stood behind him, his arms circling his waist and pressing his body against him.

"Is that something you've made up to give us a reason to shag in public?" Snape said wryly, one eyebrow raised and his arms folded. "And how many standing stone sites were on our original list?" he smirked.

Lupin howled with laughter. "No, Severus, it's well-established ancient magic. You see this inner circle," he gestured to the smaller circle inset of the larger in which they were standing. "That's its purpose. We honour the magic of the stones with our offering; the magic charges us." He rubbed up against Snape again. "Please Severus, don't you feel it? Don't you want to?"

Snape did feel it and he most definitely wanted to. He always wanted to, but did it have to be so public? He doubted they'd be able to maintain a Disillusionment Charm during sex, that was for sure. He could barely maintain his breathing during sex, and he said so.

"We don't need to, Severus. The inner circle will take care of us. Trust me," he breathed heavily into Snape's ear as he started mouth and lick his ear and Snape felt his already feeble resistance melting as Lupin's fingers gently started unbuttoning his shirt from behind as he continued to minister to his ear and neck, sending thrills shooting to his groin, kissing every part of skin on his shoulders and back as it was revealed by his slow undressing and his fingers stroking over his chest and stomach, playing on the bites on his nipples, hardening them painfully. As he let his head roll to the thrill of Lupin's mouth and fingers, he saw the iridescent shimmering between the spaces of the stones in the inner circles. Lupin was right: the magic had fired and the circle had warded them from sight and sound to provide their offering. In olden days, no privacy was ever demanded – an offering of this type would have been a ceremony for all, but the stones met their suppliants' requirements nonetheless.

He relaxed with a soft moan as Lupin unbuckled his belt and undid his jeans, smoothing his hand inside to stroke Snape's already stiff cock, holding it, squeezing and rubbing its tip, making Snape moan. Lupin spelled away the rest of Snape's clothes and his own, and moved around to fall on his knees before him and take his cock in his mouth urgently. Snape braced himself with his hands on Lupin's shoulders, feeling the magic charge his hot desire as Lupin lapped and sucked his cock greedily and Snape groaned loudly at the feel of it and at the crackling of magic energy, rounding his hips to push himself further into Lupin's ravishing mouth. Lupin drew his tongue firmly down Snape's shaft, and took Snape's balls into his mouth, alternately sucking on them and then gently probed his tongue into his Claiming bite below making Snape cry out with startled pleasure.

Lupin spread Snape's legs apart and pulled him down onto his wide-spread knees, whilst he lowered himself completely to the ground to lie flat, Snape's perineum over his mouth as he lapped at it and backwards to his opening, backwards and forwards, holding Snape up by his butt, pulling the cheeks slightly apart so he could concentrate on Snape's anus only, making Snape writhe and cry out with physical ecstasy, charged by the magic around them.

Lupin slowed his ministrations and then kissed and suckled Snape's thighs and manoeuvred himself along the ground so that Snape, panting with delirious expectation, his black eyes glittering with lust, was kneeling over Lupin's rigid cock.

Snape lifted himself slightly and looked into the blue, wanton eyes of Lupin as he slowly, excruciatingly, for both of them, lowered himself onto Lupin painfully neglected erection. Lupin groaned as soon as he entered Snape's tight but slick, hot muscles and grasped Snape's thighs hard as Snape pushed himself down as hard as he could to get Lupin inside him as deep as he was able and ground himself onto him hard, growling gutturally at the burning pleasure, tearing a groan of longing from Lupin's throat. He ground down on Lupin over and over, seeing Lupin's eyes cloud with passion and listening to him groan again with longing, as did he.

"Ride me hard, Severus," Lupin rasped, clearly so near the brink, sweating profusely, his hands trembling with desire.

Snape moaned with delight as he arched his back, feeling Lupin's cock deeper that way, and moved himself slowly at first, then gaining speed, delighting in Lupin's impatient cries of encouragement until he could contain himself no more and rode Lupin's cock as hard and fast as he could, maintaining his balance with one hand to the front of him and one hand behind, crying out himself as he drove himself onto Lupin's cock with ferocity and unerringly hitting his own prostate hard, causing shocks of rapture. Lupin's hand found Snape's cock and holding him tightly, pumped him in time with his own ride. He felt Lupin's cock contract under the pressure of Snape's powerfully contracting muscles, then explode with orgasm as Lupin shouted his name and Snape growled as he orgasmed fiercely just after over Lupin's hand and stomach.

He slowed his riding gradually, moaning, so as not to shock either of them, still feeling the pulsing of Lupin's emptying cock and listening to Lupin's loving words of satisfaction as he slowly writhed under Snape, caressing his thighs until Snape eventually halted, feeling completely shattered. Lupin raised his knees and Snape laid back on them, feeling Lupin cast a cushioning charm behind him to hold him in the pose that still pulled at both men's groins deliciously. He groaned deeply again, completely satiated, as he lay back to try to get his breath.

The wards shimmered brightly as they rested, drawing strength from the honoured stones around them. Recovering, Lupin cleansed them both and they disengaged, and held each other and kissed and, finally, they dressed. Once fully dressed, the wards shimmered out of existence once more and Lupin wrapped his arm around Snape's shoulder, as Snape wrapped his arm around his mate's waist as if he had always been this demonstrative, and they left the circle, fully invigorated and more powerful than before.

* * *

The last trip that Lupin had on their list was magical, but he also hoped Snape would like it for another reason.

They Apparated to Bardsey Island, the Island of 20,000 saints, a remote island off the coast of Wales. It had a rugged and tempestuous landscape. To Muggles, it was famous for a monastery from the 6th century and its pilgrimages; to magical folk, they knew it to be the burial site of King Arthur (not the imposter site declared by English kings for their propaganda) and it was sacred and spiritual. Snape's breath was taken away by the beauty of it, and the undeniable indelible magic. They hiked over as much of the island as they could during the day, even taking in its bird observatory.

Then they struck out to the shore where, much to Snape's delight, they saw grey seals and finally Lupin hired a boat and they set out to its waters, where Lupin used a Cetacean Charm to call the dolphins that played in its waters to the boat.

"You can swim with them if you want," Lupin said.

Snape almost wept with joy to see these intelligent creatures so close to him, listening to their whistles and clicks. He'd always loved dolphins probably because they were a creature never to be associated with the life he was from. He had longed to swim with them ever since he had first heard about swimming with dolphins from Lily's father. He couldn't remember ever telling Lupin this. Had he told Lupin this?

"What about you?" Snape said.

"Have to stay with the boat. Go on. I've swum with dolphins before. You'll love it!" he said, smiling encouragingly.

Snape undressed to his trousers only and dived in without further thought, then coming to the surface and treading water as the dolphins came to him and nudged him and he stroked the beaks of a couple when one suddenly nudged under his body a couple of times.

"Hold the dorsal fin!" he heard Lupin shout out.

Snape held onto the dorsal fin of the large dolphin and it sped off, pulling him along as it rode the waves and surfed the coastal swells of the islands. Other dolphins joined them and they played in the water, no sooner straying from the boat than returning to it over and over again, so Snape could call out to Lupin whenever a dolphin created a bubble for him or danced in the water or sped off with him again and jumped over the waves. He stayed with the dolphins until he was too tired to swim anymore and Lupin helped him back into the boat. He petted the beak of the large dolphin that carried him and they eventually swam away, and Lupin cast a drying charm and took the boat back to shore, whilst Snape dressed. As they tied the boat to its moorings, Snape took Lupin in a hard embrace and kissed him.

"How did you know that I always dreamt of doing that?" he asked as he breathed in Lupin's scent.

"You have a book in your quarters. It looked as if it had been read many, many times," Lupin said gently and Apparated them home.

* * *

"You know," said Lupin over the dinner Snape had prepared for them, "you still owe me a midnight swim."

"I don't believe I do," Snape said, crossing his arm. "I don't believe I promised your wolf self we would return."

"Nevertheless, you swam with the dolphins so I wish to swim with you in the lake at midnight. It's warm, Severus, I promise. It was a superb swim when I was the wolf!" He leant forward to Snape eagerly. "Swim with me!"

"I don't have any trunks with me," Snape muttered, pretending to read the last of that day's paper.

Lupin snorted. "Good grief, Severus. I'll only have those off you as soon as we're in the water! You know that. What's the point?" he laughed.

"It's not swimming you have in mind then. How _unexpected_." Snape snorted. "That would just be your mode of transport to the latest place to shag me senseless," he said challengingly, folding his paper and trying not to show his amusement in Lupin finding anywhere and everywhere a place to make love.

"Swimming is also good," Lupin smiled. "Swim with me, Severus. Let's go at midnight."

Snape threw his hands up in mock resignation. "You win!" he sighed.

* * *

They reached the shingled edge of the lake just before midnight. Snape didn't think it was warm enough for a swim, but he'd promised Lupin now and he had no prospect of getting out of it now.

"Severus, come and see. I saw this when I was transformed. There must be a micro-climate on this edge for it to be here. I thought you particularly would be interested." Lupin was crouched down and was beckoning him to a patch of water weed spreading from the lake up the bankside.

"Gillyweed!" breathed Snape. "That's extraordinary. It's usually only found in the Mediterranean. You're right: there must be a micro-climate. Perhaps that's why you found the water warm," he said, questioningly.

"I thought we could use it to swim," Lupin said, his eyes hopeful.

Snape looked at him consideringly. Gillyweed would give them an hour underwater. "Will I get to see any of the underwater kingdom without being molested?" he said sternly, raising one eyebrow.

"We explore, then we shag. Half and half. That's the deal on offer," Lupin said, still crouched, with his hands grasping Snape's hips, lust replacing hope in his eyes. _He's insatiable_ , Snape thought. _I love it._

"Very well," Snape murmured, his groin already firing as he leant down to pick two amounts of Gillyweed for them, curling his lip in distaste at the feel of the slimy, greyish green rounded blades. They undressed, leaving their clothes folded and under a charm to stop them being taken away by any roaming animals. They both had arm holsters for their wands. Snape divided up the Gillyweed and they swallowed it and walked into the shallows of the lake continuing to walk in deeper.

They felt the suffocation as their lungs emptied and the pain in their necks as gills opened on either side of their necks. They both dived into the water at the same time and felt the water wash through their gills, delivering oxygen to their bodies once more. Snape watched as Lupin's hands became webbed, and noted his were the same. They both watched in fascination as their feet elongated and also became webbed. Grinning at each other, they dived down further, swimming fast and effortlessly like the lake creatures they had become. Snape, being the slighter of the two, was faster, and darted away from Lupin as they swam amongst the weeds and lake flora. Snape stopped occasionally to tread water and take in the beauty of his surroundings and spiralled deeper down, exhilarated by this new world where his senses were upended. He touched most of the plants he came across and the fish that dazzled past him, Lupin swimming alongside him, taking it all in, but really watching Snape more as if he were a rare and beautiful creature himself and Lupin, his only predator.

Snape knew his half of the time was up when Lupin grasped his ankle gently and pulled him towards him to kiss him. They didn't close their eyes as they kissed without the need to breathe. It was extraordinarily liberating for them both as they allowed their tongues to mesh and dance without ceasing whilst their hands played on each other's body. Lupin's fingers found Snape's opening, but he needed little preparation. For reasons he did not know, he was ready and Lupin pushed in smoothly, still kissing Snape greedily as Snape bent to lock his legs around Lupin's back to help Lupin in deeply and Lupin abraded his nipples with his thumbs, creating greater friction in the water, making him buck against Lupin's cock. The harder he bucked, the greater the shooting thrill he received.

It was extraordinary how the sensations changed with weightlessness and without the need to breathe through the mouth or nose and the ceaseless kiss drove Snape wild. The sensations in and on his body were different too. The sensation of concentrated desire Lupin had created in his hard nipples spread out like tendrils of electric joy making his body shudder and causing him to buck and snap against Lupin's cock. He didn't think fish fucked like this. Perhaps merpeople did. It was ravishing his senses.

Then Lupin finally broke the kiss, and gently pushed Snape back so his body was horizontal and he locked his legs around Lupin's thighs, and received Lupin's cock as it drove into him and he used his fingers to play on his lowest Claiming bite. Snape body erupted and he thrashed in delight as Lupin drove him with his cock and his fingers until, gurgling in the water, Snape came hard, his sperm dispersing in the water. Lupin didn't come, but pulled Snape to him, kissing him once more. Then Lupin changed his position and re-entered Snape from behind, gently thrusting, and holding Snape around the waist with one arm he started to swim with Snape underneath him, as fish do, joined in connubial bliss.

Snape swam with him, delighting in the weightless sensation, with Lupin still filling him, gently making small thrusts into him as they glided along slowly towards the surface of the lake. As they drew nearer the surface, Lupin started to thrust harder, kissing Snape's back and shoulders. Snape could feel the effects of the Gillyweed starting to wear off. As they broke the surface of the water, with almighty gasps to re-oxygenate their bodies, Lupin gave one last huge thrust and came ferociously as they drew in those breaths.

They flailed backwards, breathing in harshly, Lupin still holding Snape and covering his face in kisses as they trod water. They calmed enough to swim slowly to the lake's shore and crawled up the shingle and lay panting under the waning moon. They shivered and Snape casting a warming charm over them and Lupin conjured blue flames that danced in the air to warm them more and give them gentle light.

"How do you even think of these things, Remus," Snape gasped, panting hard.

"I don't believe you're complaining, are you?" Lupin panted, rolling over to look at Snape lovingly and place a possessive hand on his stomach.

"No, no indeed. I've never felt anything like it. It was magnificent." Snape said seriously. "But you are insatiable."

"So then it's lucky that we found each other, my passionate Severus," Lupin said softly.

"I never considered myself particularly passionate, Remus," Snape said, lifting himself on one elbow to look at Lupin.

"Oh, believe me, Severus, you are. I don't wish to be indelicate, so please forgive me, but no-one has reciprocated my desires anywhere close to how you have. You are my dream lover; my heart's delight. I will never let you go."

Snape's throat was dry and full with emotion, and he rather wished it was moonless so he couldn't be seen, as he felt himself flush deeply.

Lupin moved closer, playing his index finger around Snape's navel. "I think I also have to count myself lucky to be the immensely grateful recipient of twenty years of your self-imposed sexual repression, Severus." He kissed Snape, gently once more, his finger pressing into Snape's navel in way that was rather thrilling him. Or was it the kiss? Or was it the romantic sentiments? He didn't know which, just that he was hard again and Lupin knew because he was smiling into his mouth and humming deep in his throat with satisfaction.

Snape sighed. "Wouldn't you like to preserve me?" Lupin looked at him quizzically. "You'll wear my arse out at this rate, Remus, and I'll be good for nothing if you carry on like this," Snape chided.

"Not now I've Claimed you," Lupin said, laughing quietly, nuzzling Snape's neck. "Have you noticed you don't ache as long after sex as you used to? My Claim transferred some of my healing abilities to you, and when I Kiss you, any damage you have will be healed by immersion in my core. In short, my beautiful Severus, I get to enjoy your beautifully tight arse all my days." He kissed him passionately again. "Thank Merlin," he added.

"However, to spare your gorgeous blushes and your beautifully tight arse ..." Lupin lay back on the shingle and dragged Snape on top of him. "I suggest you shag me instead. I'm really still terribly turned on." He placed Snape's hand between his own legs and, true enough, he was quite slick. Snape's cock twitched and he moved so he was between Lupin's legs which Lupin spread wide and Snape worked his opening anyway, because he enjoyed the feel of his fingers fucking Lupin and finding the bundle of nerves that made Lupin call out, hardening his own cock further and increasing his hot desire.

He did so several times before Lupin growled, "Severus," canting his hips to receive him and gripping Snape's cock. Snape thrust in, finding he was further along the crest of his own desire than he thought as he snapped into a fast rhythm immediately, driven by his own advanced desire. Lupin was more than ready for it and encouraged him with his pornographic groans and sighs, that became more demanding as his own orgasm built as Snape stroked Lupin's cock in time. Snape was thrusting fast now, leaning in to kiss Lupin greedily, groaning in his mounting urgency until he cried out as he tipped over the precipice of his orgasm and Lupin did too and they muttered their names to each other, inarticulate in their sated pleasure as they rested on the shingle together.

They only dressed as the sun started to rise. Snape stopped to pick more Gillyweed, Conjuring jars so he could stock his Potions cupboard with this rarest of magical waterweeds. They made their leisurely way back to the farmhouse for breakfast, the happiest they had ever been.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I have played fast and loose with ancient British mythology – these are all myths of the land, but I have adapted some of them. Forgive me. All the places are real (although I've modified some a bit). I've visited them and they are stunning, should you ever wish to visit Wales or Cumbria.


	29. Back to School

Snape was packing up his equipment in the cellar carefully, whilst Lupin packaged the various Potions Snape had brewed for the school over the past fortnight. Snape found he minded packing very much. The farmhouse had been like a dream for him: the happiest of places from the rescuing of this relationship up to this very day. It had not only been a place of physical and emotional passion, but of the best company of conversation, reading, chess, good food, even day tripping, but ultimately of understanding, love and restoration. He felt whole. He had never really understood how fractured he was before, but now he was whole, he understood his own underlying damage more.

If he had a choice (and he wasn't sure that he did), he would ask Dumbledore to let him stay here with Lupin. He could run a Potions business by post. It would be lucrative and would provide them with an ample living. He was an accomplished Potions Master of no small repute and was always being asked to fulfil private orders, but rarely undertook commissions as his work at the school as Professor and Head of House was time-consuming. Without worrying about making a living because of his affliction, Lupin could undertake the research he loved so much and be at liberty to take on only what interested him. At the full moon, Lupin could run, and Snape would fly with him. They would love each other as and when they chose. They would be free.

Sooner or later, the Dark Lord would return. When he was defeated, Snape would be free. Free of the Dark Lord. Free of Dumbledore. And this life would be his reward.

"Penny for them?" Lupin said, looking at Snape intently, who was staring at the box he had been packing.

Snape stroked Lupin's face. "I'm being maudlin," he said. "I just don't want to leave." He suddenly wanted Lupin him to take him here in this room. He wanted it badly. He wanted Lupin to love him as much as possible before they left.

Lupin hugged him. "Neither do I, but duty calls."

He kissed Snape who responding fiercely, taking Lupin by surprise, palming his cock and massaging his balls through his trousers, then untying his trouser cord.

"Merlin, Severus," Lupin gasped through the searching kiss, hooking his hands under Snape's shirt and pulling it off as Snape pulled Lupin down onto the stone floor, almost growling, "Now!"

"The floor is cold ... uncomfortable ..." Lupin murmured, taking off Snape's trousers with trembling hands and Snape pulled off Lupin's shirt.

"But you are not. Take me here," he said breathily, enjoying the feel of the cold stone floor against his back and the hot searching tongue probing his navel and travelling up his stomach and chest to his neck and mouth, and the questing fingers between his legs building his hot passion. He writhed, moaning, against the cold floor. It felt excellent with the heat travelling at speed through his body and drawing insistently on his groin. And as Lupin thrust into him, making Snape cry out, pushing him hard against the cold stone floor, he shuddered with greater pleasure. Lupin, declaring his love noisily, rolled into him deeply and rhythmically, stroking his cock, exciting his nerves and passion to breaking point and Snape cried out, coming hard, followed by Lupin's orgasm.

Eventually, Lupin rolled away, and they lay, panting, side by side on the cold stone floor, as good as mesmerised. Snape understood. The stone floor was mountain stone and, cold as it was, it welcomed them and always would.

* * *

Tomorrow morning, they would leave for Hogwarts. Both men had packed and their trunks and packages were all shrunk and waiting by the front door. Snape was quiet, and it was obvious that he didn't want to leave. He didn't want to go back to Hogwarts, for the first time he could remember. More than that, the time was getting closer that Lupin would leave for Egypt. They hadn't really talked about how they were going to organise things once he did. Snape tried to quiet his distressed mind until Lupin moved closer, circling his thumb on his neck bite to calm as he held him close and whispered to his ear:

"I will return to you as often as I can, I promise you. It won't be easy for me either, Severus, to go from having my mate with me all day and all night to not at all. I have to earn a living, you understand that." There was a slight edge of pleading in his voice.

Snape wanted to say that Lupin could live with him, they could have family quarters for they had those at Hogwarts for married professors, Snape could keep them, his own wants were few, he had money. He wanted to say all those things but knew it would be pointless.

He himself had made it impossible for Lupin to live with him in Hogwarts by revealing his affliction. Oh, the staff would be fine – they loved Lupin; but the parents and children would never countenance it; the Ministry would never authorise it. They might have done if they were bonded – all the wizarding world recognised the sanctity of the soul bond, but his Dark Mark prevented it. It was his fault they were to be parted and his fault alone.

"Severus," Lupin's voice was barely audible. "This is our last night here. Please don't be sad. We'll come back next summer."

The sadness in Lupin's voice snapped him out of his reverie and he smiled at Lupin. He had planned a special meal for them and he took Lupin to the kitchen with him to prepare it. For the first time since he had arrived, he Occluded his mind so he could push his negative thoughts away and enjoy this night, but something else was also troubling him.

"What will we do when you transform, Remus?"

"I've been thinking about that a lot," Lupin confessed. "My need to be with you last full moon was terrifically strong and you felt it too. It's because I Claimed you fully. I've been wondering how we can accommodate that – you and I. I think that was the happiest full moon of my life, Severus, thanks to you." He squeezed Snape's waist to him.

"Not running with your school friends?" Snape arched an eyebrow.

"My friends made my life happy, but I don't recall the full moons very well, if at all, my mind was still wolfish when they ran with me, but they could control me so we could run, and I didn't injure myself so severely. It was different. Last full moon, I had my mind completely but ... I could run," Lupin said with wonder. "You were right, Severus, it blew my mind utterly. I thought it would burst with joy, and you flying along with me, just made it perfect." He kissed Snape. "We'll need to see what arrangements Gringotts make for transforming and see what we can do. I hope I can be with you." Lupin sounded quite concerned. Snape wondered if it would be physically detrimental to Lupin or even to him for them to be apart now Lupin's Lycanthropy mingled in Snape's blood through his Claim. He asked him.

"Truthfully, Severus, I don't know. You and I haven't tested it yet. I was so relieved, physically and mentally, when you stayed with me this month. I don't know how bad it would be without you. I don't want to know, if the truth be told." He clasped Snape's hand. "I've heard some werewolves can become quite deranged if they are separated from their mates. I don't know if Wolfsbane makes a difference. Let's not worry about it tonight, Severus. We will see when I hear further from Gringotts."

After they had eaten, by unspoken agreement, they walked to the summit of Cadr Idris and made slow and languorous love on the stone over hours, taking each other to the edge, then pulling back, over and over, to make it last as long as they were capable of doing so. Then, held in each other's arms lying on the stone, they listened to the dawn chorus and watched the sun rise before dressing and Apparating back to the farmhouse for breakfast and to start their journey back to Hogwarts.

* * *

They Apparated back to Hogsmeade and took the Floo from the Hog's Head to Dumbledore's office.

"My boys," Dumbledore said, happily, as he surveyed them both. "You both look so well. Cadr Idris suits you, I think. You look quite ... restored." He looked knowingly at them both over his glasses. It maddened Snape. "Remus, you'll be staying with us, I understand, until the end of the month. Perhaps, you'll assist us in our preparations?" Dumbledore had a tray of tea prepared for them and gestured for them to sit down.

"I'd be delighted," Remus said excitedly as he removed his light travelling cloak, taking Snape's from him. Snape had wanted to go straight to his quarters, still cross these ten days had been taken from him and not feeling companionable with Dumbledore at all, but he had reckoned without Lupin who clearly relished the idea of being involved, no matter how peripherally, in preparations for the Triwizard Tournament.

Dumbledore told them the staff news over the summer which prompted Snape's question.

"Who, may I ask," said Snape stiffly, "will fill the post of Defence against the Dark Arts Professor this year?"

"Under the circumstances of extra security required, I have sought another favour of an old friend. This year I have prevailed upon Alastor Moody to assist us."

"The Auror? Here?" Snape scowled, trepidation mixing with nausea, recalling the many relentless interviews conducted by Moody before Dumbledore had vouched for Snape and removed him from the Ministry's clutches.

"Mad-Eye!" Lupin said, happily at the same time.

"You know him?" Snape asked tersely.

"Yes, I know him well through the Order in the Wizarding War. He's always been very good to me, even though he knew I was a werewolf. When will he be arriving? I'd enjoy seeing him again."

Snape sometimes wondered at Lupin. As far as he was concerned, Moody was a monster. He'd as good as put Snape on the rack to try to coerce confessions from him. _Still, history is written by the victors, is it not?_

"He's due at the end of August, so hopefully, you'll not miss each other," Dumbledore said convivially.

"Well," said Lupin smiling, "the students will certainly be learning Defence from the sharp end!"

Dumbledore talked them through the planning and execution still needed for the tournament and how Snape and Lupin could help, and advised that meals would either be held in the staff room or in their quarters as they wished until term began. The first planning meeting would be that afternoon after lunch.

Finally, Dumbledore handed over some post he'd received for Lupin yesterday but had held onto until their arrival today. Lupin put the letters in his pocket of his robe and then they left for Snape's quarters.

* * *

Snape was surprised how very nervous he was to have Lupin back in his quarters after the fraught events of last term. Lupin clearly picked up on Snape's discomfort and worry. He strengthened the wards on Snape's quarters.

"Severus," he said, as he took Snape in his arms. "Shall we go to our bed before we do anything else? Reclaim it, as it were?"

Gratefully, Snape led the way.

* * *

They lay together in Snape's bed, tangled in the bedclothes together, slick and satisfied from their rather emotional exertions. Snape had never thought to have Lupin in his bed at Hogwarts again. His head and emotions reeled as he listened to Lupin's heart beat fast as they both recovered their breath and Lupin stroked his hair and back.

Snape Summoned tea to be sent to his drawing room. Once he heard the departing pop of the house-elf, he Summoned the tray to them in bed and sat up to serve it, although Lupin barely released his grasp of Snape's body to do so. Snape enjoyed Lupin's almost constant physical attentions. They made him feel attractive and wanted. He wondered how he would feel when Lupin left for Egypt to have none of these attentions at all.

Then Lupin said, "That reminds me. I thought there was a Gringotts envelope. Let's see."

Lupin Summoned the post from the robe that had been thrown off onto the floor. There were three letters. Still holding on to Snape, he opened the first which bore the crest of Gringotts.

_From the desk of William Weasley, Esq.  
Curse-Breaking Division,  
Gringotts Bank (International),  
Cairo, Egypt._

"How perfectly pompous," Snape said dismissively.

"Severus," Lupin said warningly. "That will be Gringotts' stationery, not his own."

_Remus,_

_We're pleased you've agreed to join us here. Following our chats, I'm attaching your itinerary for the various peripatetic projects we have so far scoped for you for the next nine months. I think you'll have an interesting time with us, and I'm looking forward to you joining the team. The work can be hairy and demanding at times, but for a scholar of your calibre, I hope you'll find it rewarding._

_You'll find the Bank is a decent employer. It has no problem employing Lycanthropes (you are one of a number in the employ of Gringotts world-wide) and, as agreed, your Wolfsbane Potion is part of your remuneration and will be provided in-house. Your itinerary takes account of the lunar cycles for the period of the contract. As we work as required and don't have weekends off as such, the Bank doesn't really have issues with the couple of days you need per month._

_You'll need to let me know where you prefer to transform. Given the highly individual circumstances under which we met, I didn't ask you whether you have a Mate you need to transform with and, if so, what arrangements we can make to accommodate this for you, such as a half-way meeting point etc. Let me know, and I'll see what we can do._

"Are you feeling guilty yet, Severus, for mis-judging him?" Lupin teased, grinning hugely, his relief at the prospect of being able to arrange to see Snape at the full moon writ large on his features.

"No," said Snape contrarily, "I don't know that I have mis-judged him yet. That said," he softened against Lupin's body, "I am relieved. Perhaps we will at least see each other every twenty nine days."

"You are incorrigible, Severus," he kissed the top of Snape's head, then carried on reading the rest of Bill's letter and the itinerary. Snape closed his eyes, feeling greater relief than he'd admitted to Lupin at the tone of Bill's letter and the welcome news of arrangements for the full moon. He didn't read along with Lupin as he finished the letter and the itinerary. Lupin said the second letter was the formal letter from Gringotts containing his terms of engagement, which Snape took to cast his pedantic eye over, whilst Lupin opened his third envelope addressed care of Albus Dumbledore.

Lupin looked at the handwriting, and Snape realised Lupin had become tense and he stopped reading the Gringotts terms.

"Sirius," Lupin whispered as he opened the parchment with a charm Snape did not recognise and read it, holding it just out of Snape's view. Well, he had no entitlement to read Lupin's post after all, so he turned back to Gringotts' terms, only to be surprised when Lupin gave him the letter to read saying,

"I'm sorry for what it says, but I'll have no secrets from you."

_Moony, my dearest friend,_

_It has taken some time but I have found refuge in a much more temperate climate than Scotland. I cannot see those who would Kiss me finding this climate at all conducive to their well-being! I'm sending this to Albus, hoping he will know how to contact you._

_But the first order of the day is my heart-felt apology to you._

_I'm so sorry my precipitate and ill thought out behaviour has been one of the causes of your secret being revealed. I managed to purloin a copy of the Daily Prophet to see the stink. I hope Albus was able to shelter you from the storm. How can I ever make it up to you?_

_Of course, it without saying that it's also Snivelly's fault. Some things never change. That snake never could keep his greasy hooked nose out of other people's business. Well, we'll find Wormtail eventually and, when I'm cleared, I'll ensure Snivelly's dirty laundry is shown to the public again. How can Albus trust that Death Eating snake at all, let alone with children? If you knew what went on in Slytherin! But that's a story for another day and not for now._

_All that said, I can never describe to you the solace I have that at least you now know it was not I who betrayed Prongs and the Flower to Voldemort and your forgiveness for my lack of trust in you means the world to me. You are my only family and friend and mean everything to me. I hope we can be in touch soon._

_Albus knows how to contact me and I hope to hear from Harry. Please write. I long to hear from you, old friend._

_Your friend ever, Padfoot._

"No better or worse than I would expect, frankly," Snape snorted dismissively at the silly code names. _"Flower" for Merlin's sake!_

But his stomach churned at the reference to the Lake. It roiled seeing that it was clear Black knew what had gone on in Slytherin. It burned that Black tried to implicate Snape as a perpetrator of that - now or then - and wondered if he was deliberately obtuse. That must be how Black justified his own behaviour to himself.

No, Black knew Snape was a half-blood and no better than a Catamite in that House in his early years. He had no justification at all. In fact, to Snape's mind, it made Black's behaviour so much the worse for knowing how Snape would have been treated, and thinking that he, too, was entitled to his pound of Snape's flesh, one way or another. He hoped Lupin had picked up on it. Merlin knew, Lupin's hoped-for truce between them looked further off than ever, from Snape's point of view. But he would not be the one to say it. He would not start a row between them: he had learnt that lesson very hard indeed.

"He's been in prison for twelve years, Severus," Lupin said softly, "for something he didn't do. I have to help him. You can tell, he doesn't know what sort of reception he'll get from me. He's not taking my acceptance for granted. You'll see, when he realises what you mean to me, he'll come round."

"I know you want to help him, and I'll try to co-operate with you," Snape said. "But he'll never accept us. You mustn't think he will. You'll be disappointed in the long run. That letter tells me all I need to know."

"We'll see," Lupin said, not sounding quite so sure as before.

"So you're determined to tell him about us?" Snape asked quietly. "It might be easier for you if you didn't."

"You are my mate, Severus," Lupin said emphatically.

"Will you tell him about the Thrall?" Snape asked, almost holding his breath, knowing with absolute certainty that Black would accuse him of casting the Dark magic himself to snare Lupin if he found out about it.

Lupin considered this, which surprised Snape. "No. No, I don't think so. Sirius would never understand. I'll write back. But I need a couple of days to think about my answer."

Snape relaxed into Lupin's body once more.

* * *

Lupin wanted to have lunch with the staff in the staff room. Snape did not, but acquiesced to Lupin, although not particularly gracefully. How would he explain Lupin's return to the school without divulging the personal nature of their relationship? He didn't like to say this for fear of hurting Lupin's feelings, who he was fairly certain would take out an advertisement in _The Daily Prophet_ if Snape would let him. Snape thought most people would consider _The Quibbler_ the more appropriate publication for the announcement of the Claiming of a notorious Dark wizard by a publically discredited werewolf. It cheered his heart that Lupin was so proud to have Snape as his mate, but Snape's deep reserve and fear of public humiliation never left him, and sometimes threatened to overwhelm him.

However, when they entered the staff room, Dumbledore boomed, "Ah Remus. Thank you for accepting my invitation to assist us. That really is most kind of you. How have you been?" With that, Lupin was surrounded by a gaggle of well-wishers and Snape was not noticed at all.

He gave Dumbledore a curt nod of gratitude and went to help himself to the buffet lunch, then stood ramrod straight to the side and watched Lupin converse easily and laugh with, it seemed to Snape at least, all the staff at once.

Poppy made her way over to him. "Nice to see you, Severus. Albus told me your treatment at St. Mungo's was a complete success. You look well and rested," she smiled at him and looked quickly at and away from Lupin. "Did you both have a good summer?"

Snape stiffened, until he recalled that night in the side ward. Denying it to Poppy would be a grave insult to her, he felt. "Yes, Poppy. Thank you." He gave her a small tight smile.

"I'm so very pleased," Poppy said kindly and patted his hand lightly. A small gesture of kindness. It took his breath away.

* * *

After lunch had been cleared away, Dumbledore set out the first plans for the Triwizard challenges as currently approved by the Ministry.

"Dragons," Minerva snapped. "At Hogwarts. Dementors last year. Whatever is the Ministry thinking of?"

"Publicity, I dare say," Snape purred. "It will be a publicity coup for the Ministry if this comes off well."

"But is it safe?" Minerva demanded.

"Mr. Charles Weasley and his team are providing the dragons from the reserve in Roumania. They will be there to oversee proceedings. It will be quite safe," Dumbledore soothed. Snape snorted. _Albus's favourite phrase: never yet proven true!_

They discussed the underwater challenge at length and started to discuss the initial layout and obstacles for the maze wherein the Triwizard Cup would be placed. Each professor and Lupin contributed ideas for this.

"I'm still very unhappy about this Albus. You know how impetuous teenagers can be," Minerva said, shaking her head. "Dragons! Merpeople! Grindylows! Sphinxes in a maze!" her voice rose with each danger recited.

"Kittens in a basket," Lupin whispered to Snape conspiratorially, causing him to snort loudly at the unexpected joke.

Minerva shot Lupin a stern look that made him shift uncomfortably in his seat, Snape noticed and smirked.

"Now, now, Minerva," Dumbledore twinkled. "I have suggested and agreed with the Heads of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons and it has been agreed by the Ministry that there should be an age restriction of seventeen on entry." There was an excited murmur of conversation amongst the staff. "I hope that will address a major part of your concern, Minerva."

Minerva's mouth was a thin line of disapproval. Snape thought it probably had done no such thing and he didn't blame her. _At least, Potter shouldn't be able to involve himself in this!_ Snape thought with satisfaction. Perhaps there'd be a quiet year for once.

"We also need to do something about Peeves. After all, it wouldn't do to have him in full voice in front of the other schools," Pomona commented.

"The Bloody Baron," Lupin said. "He's the only ghost Peeves has ever taken notice of. Perhaps, Severus can enlist his aid." He smiled at Snape, who nodded.

"So, I think we should sort into teams to set up each challenge and for certain other tasks, such as hospitality for the away terms, for Ministry official and so on."

"I would be interested in setting up the Lake challenge," offered Lupin, with no trace of irony or humour on his face that Snape could detect, "with Severus, if that would be acceptable?" Not even so much as a tug at the corners of his mouth as he looked at Snape for acceptance. Oh, Snape could see how Remus Lupin hardly ever suffered detention: he was shameless.

"Of course," Snape said.

"Excellent choice. Plenty of Dark creatures in the Lake for Remus to deal with," Dumbledore smiled as they moved down the itinerary. _One more if you include Remus himself!_ Snape thought wryly.

"We may have to take a reconnaissance swim, Severus," Lupin whispered, very confidentially, to Snape, with a small unobserved stroke behind his knee, as Dumbledore continued talking.

* * *

Lupin wanted to write to Bill as soon as possible about his transformation. The next full moon was due on 19th September so there wouldn't be much time to arrange things if he left it until he joined Gringotts on 1st September. He wrote to say that he did, indeed, have a mate with whom he wished to transform. His mate's travelling to Egypt would not be practical, being employed full-time in this country so they would be grateful of suitable accommodation half-way.

When he finished, he and Snape walked over to the Owlery to send the letter.

"It's nice to be here without the children," Lupin said as he released the owl and then pressed Snape up to the wall in the Owlery to kiss him.

"At this moment," Snape sighed, "I almost wish they were to save me from your predations. This place is filthy!" he managed to say breathily, as Lupin started to nuzzle under Snape's cravat as he ground his hips against him.

"No sex amongst the owl droppings then, Severus?" Lupin said mournfully.

"No sex amongst the owl droppings," Snape said firmly,

"Where then?" he said, hopefully. "The castle's ours. Come along, Severus, be a devil. Live a little." He grinned wickedly. "Isn't there anywhere you've fancied before? Come on, anywhere at all?" Lupin would not be deflected from Snape's neck and had managed to work his way to his Claiming bite, loosening Snape up considerably.

"Do you ...remember ... the ... prefects' bathroom," he just managed to pant out as Lupin probed the bite with his tongue and his hands found their way into Snape's robe and under his shirt to stroke his sides.

"Marvellous idea. I'll remember that," Lupin murmured into his skin, as he spelled Snape's robe open and took him in the Owlery just the same, but against the wall, not on the floor.

* * *

"We need to work a charm between us for our letters," Lupin said, as they drank some tea before going to bed, "so that only we can read them."

"That was what you chanted when you opened Black's letter?" Snape asked.

"Yes, we four had a spell worked between us. So, now you and I need to work one just for us. They're very reliable. Can't be broken by another caster, unless you tell them the incantation, of course."

"Is this so you can be as wanton with me in writing as you are in person?" Snape smiled fondly at Lupin and kissed him.

"Not wanton, Severus," Lupin feigned hurt. "Very probably, highly personal though."

"How personal will you be?" Snape asked, feeling a small hitch in his throat.

"Well, enough that I don't want busybodies reading our letters, and seeing how much I miss you ..." Lupin trailed off, with a distant look in his eye. He rallied and said smartly, "There'll be students who would try to read your letters. I know the type."

"Remus, that's because you _are_ the type," Snape said drily and received a broad grin in return.

 


	30. Departure & Impending Arrivals

_Dear Padfoot,_

_I've received your letter. I'm so pleased you've found refuge out of harm's way. I cannot describe my happiness that you were not the traitor. Looking back on it, I don't know how I ever thought it. It went against everything I knew of you for ten years. Of course, that's tempered by the sadness that it was little Peter who sold our friends to LV. I could never have predicted it - never! But you are back, my brother, and you will always be able to count on me._

_As for that night: well, you have no need to apologise to me at all, Padfoot. I shouldn't have left the castle on a full moon without my Wolfsbane Potion. I was a danger to you all. Severus had every right to be angry and restrain me, and, your mutual longstanding grudge nothwithstanding, you were considered a dangerous escapee by all. Why should anyone believe Peter lived? You should at least try to be fair, Padfoot. We all believed you were there to kill Harry, after all._

Snape, who was sitting at his desk in his drawing room, with Lupin at his shoulder, stopped reading and looked at Lupin, startled.

"Well, I'm hardly going to tell him in a letter everything that had really happened with the Mind Break. However, there is truth in what I have said there, nonetheless. I _should have_ known better. I knew you'd be in my office shortly with the Potion but I was so stunned when I saw Peter that all good sense fled from me. And it is true I could have killed you all," Lupin stated, and there was a pink flush of shame visible from his collar. Snape squeezed Lupin's arm reassuringly.

"The Weasley boy and I were unconscious on the ground – why do you think you didn't attack us?" Snape asked.

"I'd had the Potion all week and I believe I retained just a small portion of my mind. I recall Sirius transforming to get me away from everyone and then I ran into the Forbidden Forest. I don't remember any more. As for the rest, had I not seen Peter with my own eyes on that map, but just seen Sirius, I don't think I would have been any more temperate than you were."

"I don't believe it's in your nature to be as intemperate as I, Remus, but I appreciate this loyalty very much although I'm not sure I deserve it," Snape said quietly, reading the paragraph again and imaging Black's anger when he did so, but still feeling the piercing shame of betraying Lupin's affliction to the world. Snape continued reading.

_I myself will be working for Gringotts until next summer in Egypt in the curse-breaking division with Arthur and Molly's eldest son, Bill. That was the upshot of the publicity about my condition, so some good has come of it in a round about way. Gringotts have no issues with my furry problem! Who knows: perhaps there might be something permanent in the long run although I'd prefer it to be here._

_You know that Gringotts have excellent security. I can't see that I'd be able to meet you in Egypt but perhaps when things have died down, we can try to meet and talk somewhere more amenable._

_Of course, I forgive you. I'll say it again. Fourteen years have passed since that terrible night, Padfoot. You have really had no opportunity to heal. I hope we can find Peter soon and clear your name. You'll never really heal until we can do that._

_I'll sign off now and write again when I have my new details. Take the best care of yourself that you can, Padfoot. And, for Merlin's sake, as your friend, cut your hair. It looked appalling._

_Always your friend, Moony._

If it hadn't been written to Black, Snape would have been touched. Lupin was so perceptive. It had never really occurred to Snape, but it must be right that for Black, time would have stood still on that fateful Hallowe'en night: he was a 20 year old man in a 34 year old body with none of the intervening years of experience or mellowing, unlike Lupin. _Possibly, not unlike yourself though,_ his mind whispered slyly.

He hated the idea that any spare time of Lupin's might be spent in the company of Black but he kept it to himself. He'd had many years' practice hiding his true feelings. He needed Lupin and didn't want to lose him to his own jealousy. He could dissemble and Occlude his negative feelings. He would do so.

* * *

He and Lupin had spent many hours designing and going over the logistics for the challenge in the Lake to ensure there was the right level of peril for the champions. They had taken their ideas to Dumbledore and he had his input and then went to parlay with the Mer-King to ensure all was acceptable in his kingdom.

"We should, of course, check the conditions for ourselves Severus," Lupin said, somewhat playfully, stroking his mate's back as he leant over their workings. "You harvested quite a supply of Gillyweed, didn't you?" he murmured into Snape's ear.

"Why do you even try to fool me that this would be work-related, Remus?" he purred in response, very willing, remembering their time in the lake at Cadr Idris.

"It's part of the fun, Severus, and a cover story, if Minerva catches us skinny dipping!"

"Are you a wizard or not, Remus?" Snape snorted. "If you can't transfigure a waterweed into trunks, then I'm ashamed to call you wizard."

Lupin laughed and he led Snape by the hand to his own Potions cupboard.

* * *

Lupin had chosen a time when all the other teachers would be at lunch so he was sure they would not be spotted. They left their clothes under a protective charm, took the Gillyweed and dived in. No exploration this time. They dived down enough to wash the water through their gills to energise them, then Lupin and Snape kissed their breathless kiss that enervated them both so greatly, as Lupin abraded Snape's bitten chest and entered his narrow, tight sheath of muscle. They writhed and bucked in their weightless dance longer than ever they would have been able out of water, stretching and twisting together, all senses attenuated by their weightlessness and Lupin turned Snape so they could swim.

He thrust in again, holding Snape with one arm to keep him skin-close as he thrust and they swam gloriously drawing on each other's groins. No noise, other than gurgling in the water as this time, Lupin came before the Gillyweed wore off, almighty thrusts into the only place of friction in their world of weightlessness, making Snape come on Lupin's cock alone as he pushed back on to him in need. Their ardour spent, they swam unseeing and unfocused, still connected and only feeling the buzz of that ebbing connection, for those last minutes of the hour as the Gillyweed started to wear off and they made their way to the surface.

* * *

After the first five days, the staff re-convened to go through their plans formally in the Great Hall. Each and every task was talked through and the plans were scrutinised and additions and deletions made. It was a fruitful meeting. It would all still have to have the final approval of the committee at the Ministry and appropriate channels, but they were a long way down the line.

"I never understood," said Filius, "why duelling is not part of the championship. I would have thought it would have been a proper test of wizarding skill."

"Perhaps, dear Filius," Dumbledore said, "that is the point. It is a true skill for those who are accomplished and normally beyond the skill of the average teenager who seem to do nothing but grow each other's teeth and toenails and suspend each other by the ankles as a form of duelling." Snape pulled a finger at his cravat uncomfortably as the author of that particular jinx in his youth.

"Well, that's true, " Minerva commented as she passed them.

"Sometimes, you know, I miss my duelling days," Filius said, flexing his wand hand and arm as if in preparation for the parry and thrust.

"I'll spar with you," Lupin offered genially.

Snape groaned and passed his palm over his face. Surely Lupin knew.

Filius squeaked. "Remus! Why not? We have a clear hall." The staff began to murmur appreciatively. "Name your second." Filius was removing his robe and pacing out the correct length of duelling runway and Minerva Conjured a platform according to those dimensions.

"What do you say, Severus?" Lupin smiling, taking off his robe.

"You know that Filius is a champion duellist, I hope," Snape murmured.

"Of course I do. I used to take lessons from him at school. I'm no slouch, Severus. You underestimate me, I think," Lupin grinned.

"Very well, we'll see who's the slouch." He pointed to his chest and smirked. "Death Eater and double agent: no slouch either," he whispered to Lupin.

Lupin moved to him so he was nose to nose. "Werewolf: preternatural senses and speed - better than any Supersensory Charm!" He smiled again and turned to face Filius, his face falling when he saw who was Filius's second, the one who must take over the duel should the first duellist fall.

Albus Dumbledore.

"Sorry, Severus," he said meekly.

"No illegal curses and no physical contact," Minerva stated authoritatively. "Duellists: take your stances. On my count."

The men bowed low and took their stances.

On three, both fired off wordless stunning spells as their shields emanated around themselves and they started to pace each other in a circle.

Snape loved to watch duels, although it was a rare luxury. He was so used to fighting them. He still liked to see how many curses, hexes, jinxes, spells and charms he could identify from the wandwork alone, or better still from some wizards' inability to shield their thoughts from him in the heat of the fight. He couldn't pick up anything from Filius or from Lupin. That surprised him. He suspected that Filius had taught Lupin basic Occlumency when duelling. It was an absolute must to be successful.

Lupin cast _Locomotor Mortis_ that snaked past the shield charm but which Filius deflected and sent it back with interest. Lupin responded with burning hex. Filius squeaked with appreciation and cast flame freezing charm to counter and deflected a further _Stupefy_ that followed from Lupin. Lupin almost had to jump to avoid a further _Stupefy_ from Filius as he sent a freezing charm and a stinging hex in quick succession. Filius deftly avoided the first but was caught on the second, and emitted a small yelp, as he sent _Impendimenta_ in an undercutting motion that almost toppled Lupin. Snape was sure that it was only Lupin's agility that saved him from an unceremonious head over heels. He smirked.

Their wandwork was fast and far superior to that which Snape saw from most Death Eaters. Well, he expected it from Filius, but Lupin impressed him. He thought he'd like to duel him himself another time. On their own.

Lupin recovered quickly and shot Conjured ball bearings with _Oppugno_ as Filius countered without thought with _Expulso_ and finally with an unreadably small _Petrificus Totalus_ , Lupin was in a full body bind and out of the bout. Snape stepped up.

"Oh, isn't it thrilling?" Snape heard Pomona squeal in excitement.

"I foresee disaster," intoned Trelawney. Snape rolled his eyes.

"Fiddlesticks!" snapped Minerva. "They're hardly novices, Sybill."

"Just because they're adults, doesn't make it any the less dangerous," Poppy seethed. "Someone will end up in the infirmary this afternoon, I'll warrant." She murmured the counter-course to the body bind to free Lupin and crossed her arms over her chest and snorted in annoyance.

Snape's style was very different to the speedy flow of Lupin's. His was staccato and deliberate. He cast _Deprimo_ and _Stupefy_ followed by an immediate _Expelliarmus_ , but Filius was prepared, counter-casting against all three so they fell away and casting a stinging hex himself which Snape only just dodged as he cast the water summoning charm and sent a rolling wave towards Filius who wafted the wave away to become air, blowing harmlessly away as he cast a trip jinx countered by Snape casting _Avis_ and sending them flying towards Filius with _Oppugno_ , which were easily deflected by Filius who followed with _Stupefy_. His Stunning spell reflected on Snape's Mirror spell and Filius flew from the runway, Stunned.

Dumbledore stepped up. Snape swallowed hard and cast _Expelliarmus_ and _Stupefy_ with force, which were deflected without visible wand movement as _Diffindo_ at the platform they were on _, Expelliarmus_ and _Stupefy_ were cast in immediate succession, toppling Snape on the broken platform, his wand flying to Dumbledore as the Stunning spell slammed Snape on his backside without ceremony, causing him to blush furiously.

"Sorry, Severus," Dumbledore smiled. "Sometimes, I don't know my own strength."

The assembled staff burst into applause. The bout was over. Both Lupin and Snape were beaten soundly by the old guard.

Breathless, Snape took Lupin's outstretched hand. "Magnificent, Severus!" Lupin said enthusiastically as he helped him up and gave him his robe.

"Hardly. Albus dumped me on my arse!" Snape mumbled crossly.

"The greatest wizard of our times dumped you on your arse, Severus. And what's your point?" Lupin smiled ravishingly at Snape, and he smiled a small smile in return.

"It hurt," he said in a small voice, feeling slightly foolish. Lupin laughed. "Some Death Eater!" he teased.

The staff disbanded in various directions chattering happily as they recounted the skills they'd just witnessed and how they really should institute proper duelling for the students.

"I suggest we detour by the fifth floor and ... ah... have a bath. Draw out any bruises ..." Lupin said, smiling still at Snape's hurt pride.

* * *

"Pine fresh," said Lupin to the statue of Boris the Bewildered and led Snape in. "I can't believe they haven't changed that password in all these years," he laughed as he undressed and found the giant bath towels, always freshly laundered for the prefects' use.

"One thing we need to do first, Severus," Lupin said, and he cast a charm on the pipes. Snape raised an eyebrow in enquiry. "You've met Myrtle, of course," Lupin smiled. "She quite fond of this bathroom. Just a little charm to distract her." Snape snorted, undressed, and watched Lupin moving around in his perfect nakedness feeling the intense heat the man generated in him accumulating fast in his groin.

Lupin began to run the water to fill the deep pool-like tub and chose lavender, fennel and hyssop essential oils being good for bruising, although Snape knew it was really only his pride that was bruised. It was idiotic to think that way: that he could ever duel Albus Dumbledore and win was just idiotic. Nevertheless, on his backside in front of Lupin! _Bloody Albus,_ he seethed gently.

Lupin joined Snape who was sitting at the edge and sat next to him. Snape turned to him and caught his lips and kissed him firmly, and pushed him down onto the tiles so he could work his hands all over Lupin's body, taking Lupin by surprise, but Snape could see it was a pleasant one. He left no part of Lupin unexplored until Lupin was whimpering in need. He ached to his core to take Lupin but wanted Lupin panting for him first.

Snape slipped into the pool and pulled Lupin in after him and they continued kissing as the water lapped around them, the lavender bubbles tickling. Snape moved his hand around Lupin's backside to prepare him and Lupin turned to hold onto the side of the pool, allowing Snape's fingers to penetrate him deeply as Snape sucked and licked on Lupin's neck and kissing up to the side of his face and, on finding his mouth to kiss, he pushed into Lupin, who drew in his breath sharply and groaned as Snape thrust slowly into him his arms holding Lupin's body to him as he snaked one leg around Lupin's thigh to give him greater purchase to thrust deeper into him.

He groaned in his pleasure at the hot friction, tightening his leg hold which drew on his groin harder making him delve deeper still, hearing Lupin groan loudly. He drew his thrusts out slowly, revelling in the excruciating burning which throbbed harder and harder. He drew it out until Lupin begged him to drive him harder, and he sped up his thrust, finding Lupin's cock to grasp it hard and in time with him as Lupin braced himself more firmly. As Snape rolled into Lupin, he started to cry out Snape's name as Snape drove waves of pleasure over him, building his orgasm as strongly as he was building his own, feeling Lupin's muscles contracting around him, Lupin's knuckles white holding onto the poolside to anchor him to feel Snape as deeply as he was able as Snape now snapped into him fast and hard, his self-control unravelling.

Snape's orgasm was coming now and it was strong. Snape rasped in Lupin's ear that he loved him and he repeated it with every thrust of his orgasm, grasping hold of him so tightly he would bruise him, as Lupin came, crying out Snape's name ecstatically. They calmed eventually and on regaining their breath, floated back in the deep scented water and allowed the pool-bath to soothe them both.

* * *

The days seemed to pass with alarming rapidity and Lupin had yet to hear from Bill about the night of the 19th.

"I suppose it's early days," he pondered as he helped Snape with his lesson plans.

They only had a few days left together, but the frenetic activity of the first week had eased and they majority of time was theirs now and the filled it with as much physical affection and love-making as Snape could take. Snape surprised himself at how much that was, just as how he was surprised that he felt so very dependent on Lupin for his wellbeing, and his imminent departure distressed him more than he thought was reasonable. He supposed this was what love was. The tenuous yet fierce bond between two lives. He never thought he would have this and he didn't want to lose it.

* * *

Snape got undressed for bed while Lupin was in the bathroom. When Lupin came back, he stood at the door, looking at Snape for some time, and then came to sit on the side of the bed, with one arm over Snape's chest.

"Severus," he murmured. "I want to show you how we can still be together when I'm away. You'll need to lose some of your rather strong inhibitions though. What do you think? Can you?" His fingers were tracing around Snape's navel under the counterpane.

Lupin was right to say that Snape was inhibited. He had very rarely masturbated, having always considered that it was a weakness and, well, since being with Lupin, there was hardly any need!

He looked at Lupin questioningly. Lupin leant forward and whispered into his ear.

"Will you masturbate for me? In front of me?"

Snape thought his head would explode, he flushed so deeply. "What! Just like that?" he breathed. "No whispered sweet nothings even?"

"I'll do it with you. I want to show you something."

Snape was mortified. It was one thing to do this in the throes of passion; he didn't mind that at all, but just ... well, just to do it, just like that. He didn't think he could. He wasn't turned on at all.

"It'll be worth it. You'll be able to feel me, even though I'll be away," Lupin promised.

"How, if you're away?" Snape asked breathlessly.

Lupin picked up Snape's hand and touched his fingers lightly to the bite on his neck. Snape inhaled sharply, and so did Lupin, closing his eyes as he did so. He moved Snape's hand to one of his chest bites and circled the bite with Snape's own index finger, moaning low as he did so. Snape felt it too, and watched as Lupin's own nipples harden to that touch.

"It can't be," Snape croaked.

"Part of me runs through your veins from my Claim. I can influence your dreams and we can feel each other through my Claiming bites. It's how I would know if you were unfaithful, but also part of what I can use to keep you faithful to me - so I can keep you satisfied and you don't miss me too much. Do you see? Touch yourself and see for yourself," Lupin rasped, releasing Snape's hand and lay flat next to Snape on the bed with his arms flung above his head and his eyes closed.

Snape circled the other chest bite, feeling far greater pleasure from it than if the bite had not been there, and his eyes widened to see Lupin's back arch and his cock begin to grow, as well as his own. Feeling acutely embarrassed, but too inquisitive and aroused, he stroked both chest bites, emitting a moan himself as Lupin did the same, both their cocks now fully hard, Lupin's visibly twitching. Still circling one chest bite, his right hand moved to the bite below his stomach and as he stroked he could swear his prostate was being stroked and it made him yelp in surprise and pleasure as Lupin groaned loudly, sat up and stared lustfully at Snape and his hands. Snape stroked at it more forcefully, feeling those strokes more forcefully inside himself, making both him and Lupin cry out.

Lupin leant over and took Snape's hand and placed it around his own cock, kissed Snape's lips and smiled and then lay back, gripping his own cock firmly and started to stroke, small moans forming deep in his throat.

Snape watched him briefly then started to stroke himself as his other hand lightly stroked his lowest bite and his hips bucked with the shock of it and a groan tore from this throat. It didn't feel like his hand; it felt like Lupin's! His eyes snapped to Lupin whose eyes had become clouded with lust. Snape started stroking again and couldn't help himself groaning at the feelings inside himself and around his cock that he could see were mirrored in Lupin who was moaning softly and constantly, matching his pace to Snape's own until they were both stroking hard and fast, their hips snapping into their own hands.

Then, Lupin could bear no more, and he pulled himself up over Snape, grabbed his hands to pull them away and Snape opened his legs wide to take him in. Lupin drove home straightaway, both of them already at tipping point and they bucked against each other, the bites having excited both to the very extreme already and they came hard and loudly together without further ceremony.

Lupin held himself over Snape on one elbow, still breathing hard. "I'm sorry," he said hoarsely. "I got carried away. I watched you touch yourself like that, on my bites – it was too much for me. I wanted to show you how we could be together," he smiled at Snape sheepishly at his lack of self control but then saw Snape's very satisfied smile.

"I think the demonstration was ample," Snape purred.

* * *

The day before Lupin's departure, they hardly left their bed at all. Snape had ordered some cold food and drinks in the morning so they could stay together in bed, loving each other strenuously as soon as they recovered from each coupling, knowing it would be some time before they touched each other again. Neither did they go to breakfast on the of Lupin's departure. They only finally left off their love-making to shower and make Lupin's pre-arranged farewell lunch.

Lunch in the staff room in which all the teachers had gathered to wish Lupin well was an amiable affair. Lupin was sorry to have missed Moody and left a letter for him with Dumbledore covering the students' curriculm until the end of the last academic year. When lunch was finished, from outside the grounds of Hogwarts, Snape and Lupin Apparated to Diagon Alley. Lupin would be taking an international Portkey from Gringotts itself.

"I will write when I settle in with all the details, Severus," Lupin said, gently. Snape could see that he wanted to take Snape's hand and kiss him goodbye but Snape felt too emotional so Snape restrained himself and stood stiff and formal in front of him. Lupin smiled his understanding, and brushed his hand lightly in a gesture that would be missed by anyone not looking for it and made his way to the reception desk.

Snape watched by the main door as Lupin was led to the staff entrance where he saw Bill Weasley greet him with a hearty handshake and lead him through the door with his hand companionably on Lupin's back.

Snape's whole being burned.

* * *

It was 1st September.

Snape awoke feeling brittle following a night of little sleep in a bed too big without Lupin, and what little he had managed was mired in jealous dreams and overwrought imaginings of his own. It had only been one night and look at him! And by this evening, the children would arrive – oh, and Alastor Moody. _Oh joy._

 


	31. Thoughts from Egypt

It had taken nearly nine months for Lupin to unravel Snape's inhibitions to the extent he had. It took two days without him for Snape to sink himself into Occlumency so deep that he could barely register anyone else's presence at times.

Lupin had left, the blasted children were back and Moody seemed to despise Snape even more than when he had him under arrest all those years ago. He didn't even pretend to respect him as a professor of this school – his animosity was overt and embarassing.

Moody emanated danger. Snape felt his presence and it felt malignant to him in a way it hadn't before. He felt it could lead to a ruination of his plans for redemption. He didn't know why he felt that about Moody; he just did ... in his blood.

What was more was that Moody was supposed to like Lupin, but he heard him call him "half-breed" under his breath when Dumbledore gave him Lupin's letter after the feast. Could Lupin have been so wrong about him?

Moody troubled him. It worried him the way Moody had looked at him so brutally appraisingly throughout the welcome feast. So Snape Occluded deeper than he had since the days of the Dark Lord.

Tired and unhappy, he prepared for bed, knowing there would be no solace there either as Lupin was over two thousand miles away. He remembered the package he had not yet unpacked from their time at the farmhouse. He had packed the blanket on which Lupin had transformed and kept it in a preserving charm. He opened it now and breathed in Lupin's strong transformation musk and it calmed him. He lay in bed and held the blanket to him to smell.

Lupin had asked him to touch himself at night so he could feel him. It was only their second night apart, but he found himself too embarrassed to do it so just lay awake for hours, thinking about doing it until he eventually drifted off.

_The dream is dark, it_ _is erotic._ _He is surrounded by a dark crimson glow, and he is swirling, levitating around as if in the water of the Lake yet warm zephyrs lightly buffet all of his naked body. His legs and arms are outspread, his back arches and his neck extends, thrown back in ecstasy as he slowly writhes. His skin is being tantalised. Set on fire. Thrilled. Thrilled by the touch of fingers, palms of hands, a tongue, lips and teeth playing on his skin . On his bites. Down the tendons of his neck, on his Adam's apple, down his sides, down his breast bone, to his navel, circling down to his pubic hair, tracing along his too-hard erection, into the sensitive slit at the top and around and under to his testicles, to his most sensitive bite, playing on it until it reaches his opening and plays inside pulsing on that bundle of nerves that makes him cry out in an agony of ecstasy._

_Every touch he receives makes him buck and snap in mid-air in magnified sensations of rapture. He strokes the face of his accomplished lover that hovers over him, whose every touch thrills him to the core. He tells him he wants him, he needs him, he begs for him, he cries out for him. He fondles his lover's cock – it's hard and erotic and he desperately wants it. He strokes his lover's virile, tautly muscled body and needs it._

_He opens his eyes to stare into crystalline blue eyes and runs his hand through his lover's hair and fists it. Hair that is long and thick. He rubs his face in that amazing hair – that luscious red hair falling over his face as Bill Weasley returns his kisses with vigour and passion, entering him as his orgasm explodes and exquisitely shatters his body like glass._

ooo000ooo

Snape's eyes whipped open as he thrashed awake into a crouch, dripping with sweat, head muzzy with desire and confusion, his stomach covered in his own sperm. _No! No! Remus will kill me for that!_ He crouched there, panting, his eyes wide with no understanding what had happened. He hadn't had a wet dream since he was a teenager and certainly didn't expect to have one about a 24 year old ex-pupil who he suspected had designs on his mate. What did it mean? He knew one thing: there'd be no more sleep for him tonight.

* * *

He remembered in the morning Lupin telling him he could influence his dreams. Why on earth would he send him a dream of Bill Weasley? Was he testing him? Well, he'd failed that one then. He shook his head; he just didn't understand. Just send a dream of himself if Lupin wanted to turn him on!

Before breakfast, he received a letter from Lupin. The cover was a friendly letter purely telling him his new contact address and all sorts of details of his new quarters and the team he was working with, the digs they'd be working on, and raptures about Gringotts library. Snape smiled. Others might find that dull, but he could bet he'd be as ecstatic as Lupin if he could see that library. He read it and re-read it, committing every detail to memory, even scrutinising Lupin's handwriting, its curves and loops because it was written to him.

Then for the best part, the part for which his throat was dry in anticipation. He held his wand over the parchment and cast the charm he and Lupin had worked and the parchment revealed itself to have a further fold and within that was Lupin's private message.

_My darling Severus,_

_I miss you so very much already. I know it has only been two nights but I don't know how I ever slept alone before, for I certainly can't now. I long for you, my own Severus. I think I'm going to find this very difficult. Please think of me so I can feel you and it will make it bearable. I miss your touch and the closeness of your body. I know it is alien to you, but it would mean so much to me and I promise you, you will enjoy it._

_I'm trying very hard not to be lewd to protect your sensibilities. That is how much I love you. Feel free to be as lewd with me as you like! I'm almost breathless just thinking about you._

_I would kiss you all over if you were here. All my love to you, send your love back and think of me at night, your own Remus._

Snape read it over and over again. It turned him on and it warmed his heart too. He imagined Lupin in his bed at night and tried to picture himself with him. He wondered what Lupin would write if he were to be lewd. He wondered if he would enjoy it. He suspected he probably would. Lupin had certainly liberated Snape to a huge degree about sex from what he used to think.

_That dream you sent to me was pretty lewd though, Remus!_ Snape thought. He stared at the letter for a long time. It was a love letter. His first.

He would reply after classes. It was a perfect start to his day.

It went downhill fairly quickly thereafter.

* * *

Classes were the usual slow torture. Not one student of any talent in the latest intake of first years and just the usual dunderheads in his remaining classes of the day. He just wished the day away so he could sit down and reply to Lupin. He had cleared up after them and made his way to his office and was marking up his notes for the day before going to dinner when there was a loud clamouring at his office door.

He drew himself straight to his full height to look imposing, his scowl naturally settling on his features to be interrupted so rudely and went to grab the door from the hand of the perpetrator, when the door flung open and a wild-looking Moody stood on the threshold with Draco Malfoy clutched uncomfortably by one slight arm.

Snape stepped back as Moody limped forward still clutching a very unwilling and frightened looking Draco.

"Snape," Moody barked. "This is one of yours, I believe." He pushed Draco into Snape's office, as he held Snape's furious gaze with his normal eye, as his mechanical eyes whizzed up and down Snape's body, as if measuring the threat.

"Thinks it's okay to attack opponents when their backs are turned," Moody scowled, his natural eye on Draco, his wild blue eye still on Snape, piercing him with it. "Is that what the House of Snakes teaches its students, Snape?" Moody sneered. "Teach 'em betrayal young, do ya, Snape?"

"I think," said Snape, as smoothly as he could muster so Moody wouldn't know how discomfited Snape felt by his presence, "it would be helpful if you could start from the beginning. I am at a loss to know why you have brought Mr. Malfoy to my presence under ... if I may say ... some physical duress." He Occluded deeply, as that magical eye never left him. "Mr. Malfoy, please take a seat over there." He pointed to a seat away from them both so he could engage with Moody fully, as little as he relished the prospect, and stood in front of Draco.

"Draws his wand on a student who's walking away from him," Moody barked. "Nothing else to add! It speaks for itself, Snape. What will ya do about it?" Moody's ruined jaw jutted in challenge.

Snape tilted his head to one side, then turned to Draco. "Mr. Malfoy. Is this correct? Do you deserve chastisement for drawing your wand to a student's back?" he asked with a silky poise he did not feel.

"My father will hear about this, Professor Snape!" He pointed to Moody, his eyes shining with tears of humiliation. "He's already turned me into a ferret in front of the whole school after Potter tried to abuse my mother. He's only down here because Professor McGonagall said he had to report me to my Head of House!" Draco babbled. Why was Snape not surprised that Potter was behind this and that Dumbledore's latest appointment should break the rules for that brat? It really was too maddening. For all Draco's faults (and they were many), he was only a child and should not have been manhandled by this ... brute ... it was too much.

"You transfigured a student, _Professor_ Moody," Snape said, softly and a delicate emphasis on the title he felt was unwarranted. "I should imagine Professor McGonagall was ... _displeased_ with that," Snape finished. He abruptly turned to Draco. "I think that is punishment enough Mr. Malfoy. Leave us," he hissed. Draco scooted out of the office without waiting to be told twice and Snape turned to face a doubly angry Moody.

"Thank ya clever, Snape," Moody advanced on Snape menacingly. "Looking after your old school mate's kid. I know you both of old. I know you're cut from the same corrupt and rotten cloth. Think I don't know where your true loyalties lie." His voice was low and ominous as he loomed into Snape's face. "I know all about you, Severus Snape. And I'll be watching you, just biding my time. I believe you owe quite a reckoning to those you've betrayed over the years. Quite the pound of flesh," he hissed. "I'll be there to see it stripped from your bones. Better still, to strip it myself," he leered maliciously.

Snape stood his ground, but his guts turned, partly at the face that was so wrecked since he last had to look at it close to, but mainly due to the barely suppressed violence that emanated from Moody.

Both Moody's eyes bore into Snape's. He felt Moody try to infiltrate his mind, but he could not. And that was _off_. Moody had entered his mind as a regular form of interrogation when Snape was held at the Ministry after the first Wizarding War. Moody had been accomplished enough then, although he had not penetrated Snape's Occlumency. Yet now, he could not. Perhaps, he was losing some of his skill that had originally made Snape fear him all those years ago. Well, if he was losing skill, he was gaining vindictiveness. He understood completely that Moody was looking for any reason to thrash Snape. He would have to be careful of him. Moody was like an aged creature: mad and dangerous.

Moody faced off Snape for a while longer, and then limped heavily out of his office, slamming the door.

Snape wondered whether to speak to Dumbledore. He would probably only be disregarded. But there was no doubt in Snape's mind, Moody was on the very edge of madness.

* * *

After dinner, he returned to his quarters and got out Lupin's letter which he'd carried round in his breast pocket all day. He re-read them both over and over again.

He penned a friendly reply, telling Lupin about the Sorting, the youngest Creevy being fished out of the lake by the giant squid, the erosion of Moody's face, even turning Draco Malfoy into a ferret. He told him in as much detail as he could remember the reactions of the students to the announcement of the tournament: all those little details that Lupin would enjoy. He also told Lupin about his reservations about Moody's state of mind. He would be interested to hear Lupin's perspective. That was the easy letter to write.

He cast the spell on the parchment for the folded private sheet and sat for some time wondering how to write in a way that would give Lupin pleasure. He had never written a love letter before.

_My dear Remus._

_Tergeo_ – he siphoned the ink away.

_Darling Remus,_

_Tergeo._

_Remus my love,_

_Tergeo._

He felt ... just silly. He had never been romantic. But Lupin was romantic and he would want to read it. So - what did he feel about Lupin?

_Beloved,_

Yes, because that is what he was. He was Snape's beloved, his best beloved.

_Beloved,_

_I miss you too._ (So difficult to write this...) _I lie awake just thinking of you and barely sleep at all._

_Have you influenced my dreams?_ (Is that too blunt? No sure whether to say anything else – what if he hadn't and my dream of Weasley is my invention? What will I do?) _It's you I want to dream of._ (That is good isn't it? It tells Lupin what I want without being smutty.)

_I'm sorry I find it so difficult to do what you've asked._ (Makes me sound weak. But it's true, so what else can I say?) _I do want to, I promise, it's just difficult._ (Needy – Hell, this is too difficult! I don't know how!)

_Tergeo._ – I'll try again in the morning.

* * *

_He is levitating and turning in the soft red crimson glow. All his senses are aflame. His lover is behind him. His lover's presence is like a flaming brand to his back. He feels his lover's hands brace his shoulders tightly to enter him. His lover places his chin on his shoulder and places flaming kisses on his neck._ My Severus, _Remus breathes into his ear over and over again, his cock is made of sheer excruciating pleasure and it sears into him, so large and so potent, he thinks he will split_. Ahh Remus. _He turns his face and holds Remus's eyes, so dilated and full of lust as Remus thrusts more deeply than humanly possible cleaving him open with blissful waves of hot desire._

Touch yourself, _Remus murmurs the order, and he feels his own cock stiffening more until it's painful, two hands: one squeezing his balls and the other stroking him and rubbing his head, practised, deft hands but not his own. A tongue flicks into the sensitive slit to taste the secretion he is making. He groans._ Relax Severus. Enjoy the pack. _Remus is still thrusting into him by fathoms and the mouth is taking him hungrily, humming against his shaft and the hands to continue to massage him underneath. He looks down into the crystalline blue eyes of Bill, his red hair pulled back in a pony tail so he can see Bill sucking him greedily. Severus thinks he will die soon as his senses begin to shred._

_His hand finds the tie and releases Bill's hair and he fists into it tightly._ That's right, Severus, _Remus encourages, his voice low with desire._ Let me see you move into his mouth, _he mutters into his ear. He pulls Bill's head to him hard and Bill sucks and draws on his cock. He pulls Bill to him by his beautiful hair over and over as Remus continues to thrust into him and he is delirious with pleasure._

Opposite to me Bill. Let's take Severus all the way _, Remus murmurs and as Remus withdraws, so Bill pulls back and as Remus snaps back in hard and fathoms deep, so Bill plunges on Severus's cock to the back of Bills throat, sucking hard. Severus roars as he feels his senses unravel and shred fully and he shatters like glass in a myriad pieces._

ooo000ooo

Snape sat bolt upright from his sleep, again bathed in his own sweat and caked in his sperm, eyes wide in shock and breathing hard. _Is this what Remus wants us to do? I don't think I can._ _Is it just his way of getting my attention? Turning me on so I touch myself? What if it isn't?_ Snape got up to pace his drawing room. He really needed some sleep. If there was to be no sleep tonight, he would have to stock up on Dreamless Sleep again, but he was worried about dependence. He ordered a camomile tea from the kitchen and drank it and tried to sleep again.

ooo000ooo

_He is levitating but lying flat in the soft crimson glow that seems to throb with pleasure of its own. Remus is lying at his side, his hand right hand curled into his black hair around the back of his head, Remus's tongue probing one bite on his nipple sending electric thrills to his groin. His other hand plays between his legs. His legs are splayed so wide as to strain his hips but it heightens his cresting pleasure he feels inside of Remus's fingers bringing him to an agonising pitch, raking his nerves on end. Bill lies on the other side. His left hand plays in Severus's hair, his mouth sucks as his teeth hold his other nipple, flicking it with his tongue, his right hand grips Severus's cock and is pacing is firmly in time with Remus's fingers. Bill's red hair falls over his chest enticingly. He holds both men's cocks in his hands and his is being driven wild by their ministrations and their throbbing cocks he is trying to stroke_. I will take you, Severus. You take Bill, _he hears Remus command him softly making his whole body throb and pulse all over as Remus turns Severus onto his side so his back is to Remus's chest and Remus starts to push into him. Bill turns himself for Severus's pleasure, his red hair spilling over his back ..._

ooo000ooo

_No, it's too much! It's just too much,_ Snape's mind screamed. He jolted awake just in time. _All right! All right!_ He cursed his own body. _I give in. I need that redhead out of my brain. He has no business offering himself to me like that. I can't cope with that._ Now he knew the dreams came from Lupin. Snape understood why that debauched image upset him so much, but Lupin wouldn't have a clue what he'd just done to Snape. Snape bolted to the bathroom for a cold shower. He would not deny Lupin any longer. Tomorrow night he would do what Lupin wanted not just so he didn't have that image, but he desperately needed him.

He couldn't get back to sleep now so he sat down with his letter to Lupin again. After some time, he wrote it, dressed and, long before dawn, sent his owl so it would reach Egypt later that day. He also had a plan for a present for Lupin. It would help.

_Beloved,_   
_I cannot sleep._   
_I burn for you every night, all night.  
_ _We will touch tonight._   
_I love you._   
_Severus_

_._


	32. Moody and the Moon

The day churned by. Snape was tired and irritable. The last thing he needed today was the fourth year Gryffindors and Slytherins: the group that contained the sainted trio, with the insufferable Granger and idiot boys, Weasley and Potter, his very own cretins, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle and their penchant for throwing things in each other's cauldrons in the mistaken belief that it was in some way _funny_ to cause explosions of invariably disfiguring or flammable potions. And then of course there was Longbottom: a disaster in himself. True to form, Longbottom exploded (by Snape's count) his sixth cauldron. The boy's grandmother must be made of money. Snape certainly had taken care of every single thing he had ever been given for school because he knew that nothing would ever be replaced. But then again, Longbottom was a pureblood, so money meant nothing. How Lupin ever gave these children the time of day, Snape did not know.

He willed away the day.

* * *

He had done his marking for the evening and bathed to relax himself. He found himself nervous _as if waiting to escort Lupin to a ball,_ Snape snorted to himself at the thought. All he was doing to going to bed. How could he possibly be feeling this nervous? Oh, but he was, and he was excited too to fulfil his promise to Lupin. His stomach and groin flared every time he thought of taking to his bed. He had put out the blanket with Lupin's scent, making sure it would be near his face so he could smell it strongly. He paced nervously. He got himself a glass of Firewhiskey. He shouldn't need this. He would only be doing what he knew other men did as a matter of course. But he didn't. It wasn't what he did. But he wanted to. He wanted to relax into what Lupin had shown him.

It was half past nine. It would be half past eleven in Cairo. He downed a very large glass of Firewhiskey and laid himself down and breathed deeply, breathing Lupin's scent into his nose, over his olfactory senses so he could taste it as it if had substance. He did this several times until he was almost in a trance-like state.

Eyes closed, he very gently touched his neck and was immediately enervated and aroused. A small smile settled at the corners of his mouth. Lupin had been waiting for him – he knew it. That knowledge relaxed him and he caressed the bite and it made him gasp as if he could feel Lupin's hands on body and kisses on his neck. He moved his hand to his chest and circled one bite. It made his back arch sharply, the sensations travelling along his skin were so strong. His other hand now joined on the other bite on his chest. His inhibitions evaporated. Lupin promised him he would enjoy it; he was already enjoying it. He was alive with Lupin's touch coruscating across his body.

One hand then travelled to the bite below his stomach. Oh, he knew what this one would do and he ached for it. He caressed it and felt the amazing sensation inside himself of his prostate being stroked and his own muscles contracting strongly against it, knowing Lupin's muscles would be doing this too. He was groaning now in pleasure, writhing under his own touch that didn't feel like his own touch, still drinking in Lupin's scent with every hitched breath.

He moved his hand to his lowest bite as he took hold of his cock with the other. Again, it felt like Lupin's hand and as he stroked that lowest bite, he felt he would melt in the overwhelming burn of desire as he bucked into his own hand, his desire so intense he lost awareness that he was by himself in his bed. He pleased himself and stopped occasionally moving back to the chest and neck bites so he could extend the pleasure for as long as he could. The way he felt and the sensations he experienced were every bit as delicious as if Lupin were there and finally, it became too much, and he stroked himself passionately and then fast, murmuring Lupin's name, as his orgasm built slowly and strongly until it pierced its prison and erupted from him and he cried out in release, his hips gradually slowing to a sated halt.

If only he could feel Lupin's weight and kiss him. That was all that was missing. He slept immediately and deeply.

* * *

In the following few days, Moody seemed to dog his every step. He often seemed to find Moody in the dungeon corridors, although there could be no legitimate reason for him to be there. He seemed to find reason to stare at Snape at every meal in the Great Hall and did not appear to care who saw him ogling him. Worryingly, Snape noticed that Moody's magical eye often rested on his neck, where Lupin's bite was. He wondered what Moody could see and if he knew what it signified.

* * *

"Is anything I say of any consequence to you at all, Albus?" Snape fumed. "He transfigured Draco Malfoy into an animal and physically bounced him off the stone floor several times!" Snape was shouting now. "If that had been done to one of your golden Gryffindors, I'm sure you would have plenty to say to Alastor Moody. If it had been precious, perfect Mr. Potter for instance," Snape spat, enunciating each P to accentuate his disgust at the unfairness of it.

"Severus," Dumbledore said, menacingly. "This is untrue and uncalled for."

"No, Albus. It is not," Snape retorted. "It is the same story with you and it always will be."

"You had a hard time at his hands, Severus, at the end of the war. I understand that," Dumbledore said gently _and oh so reasonably_ , "but don't let that blind you the qualities he can bring to this post, this year of all years."

"Albus! I am telling you that there is something wrong with Alastor Moody. The Auror I met thirteen years ago I don't believe would have bounced a child against a stone floor for the pleasure of a gawking school population, although I grant he may well have bounced me off the floor in the same manner! He may have been tough on me, Albus, but I was a grown man and easily his match!" Snape was very angry now and was striding back and forth in Dumbledore's office. "So, he abuses a child, but that's fine because he's a Slythern child." He waved his hand at Dumbledore distractedly. "But I am not to be trusted with that post, although I have never bounced a child against a stone floor," he thought of Potter, "no matter the provocation." He continued pacing, his mouth a thin line of anger. "You allow him to show the children Unforgiveable curses and demonstrate on them!"

"I believe they need to know what's out there and the first step is to recognise some of the dangers they could face," Dumbledore said in measured tones.

"He demonstrated the Cruciatus curse to Longbottom of all people!" Snape leaned forward on his hands on Dumbledore's desk, his face a mask of disbelief.

"Your concern for Neville's feelings is touching, Severus," Dumbledore smiled.

"Do not patronise me, Albus. It was a monstrous thing to do, given Longbottom's history. I am not a monster. I would not have done that," Snape said dangerously.

"I need a Potions professor and you are harder to replace that you realise."

"That's nonsense and you know it: you don't trust me in that position. You make your lack of trust of me plain at every opportunity," Snape said wearily. "The fact remains that I am telling you that Alastor Moody is not stable and he is not to be trusted."

"Severus! Enough," Dumbledore said firmly. "I trust Alastor as I trust you. No more of it, if you please."

"He threatened to strip the _flesh off my bones_ , Albus," Snape hissed. "He didn't even say things like that when I was under arrest, bound in chains with my Dark Mark exposed!"

"Just colourful language, Severus. I'll talk to him to temper his language."

Snape huffed out a breath, gave Dumbledore one final glare of disgust, and marched out of Dumbedore's office.

* * *

Lupin's second letters held the news that he had been waiting for. Gringotts had a retreat in Brasov, Romania, for the werewolves in their employ and their mates. Lupin would arrange for Snape to Portkey on the day of the full moon, once classes were finished. They could run if they wanted to, or stay in their quarters. Maybe, for the full moons that fell at a weekend, they could run, but not this one. This one was mid-week and Lupin realised that Snape would have classes the next day. Timing would be critical, but it could be managed. All that concerned Lupin was whether Snape understood that this meant that Gringotts had to know of Snape's status as the Claimed mate of a werewolf? Well, Gringotts would be sworn to secrecy and Snape knew the goblins did not have the penchant for gossip that the wizarding world did. He was content then. Yes, he was content indeed and very much looking forward to seeing Lupin, not to mention questioning him about those dreams, now mercifully gone.

Snape re-read that part of Lupin's letter about Moody.

_I'm shocked Severus. I've known Alastor since the war and, yes, he has his foibles and we all know how he hates Dark wizards. He should not have spoken to you like that and I am very unhappy with it. I feel you probably have not told me all of it so I will try not to be angry. I know that you are more than capable for defending yourself and don't need me to mollycoddle you. Nevertheless, I wish I was not so far away from you._

_As for what he did to Draco, I confess that I am struggling to think of him harming a child (no matter how unpleasant that child may be). I would never have thought it of him. Perhaps, one can only be an Auror for so long before it affects one's reality. Have you told Albus? I think you should. I have no doubt that Alastor has great expertise and experience to pass on to the children, but a teacher's authority must be properly and proportionately exercised. Don't you think so, Severus?_

Snape felt the light rebuke of his lover, and it made him smile affectionately. Well, he'd told Dumbledore. Fat lot of good it did him. Fat lot of good it ever did him.

In the charmed private letter, Lupin said simply:

_Thank you for thinking of me, dearest Severus. It was delicious and I enjoyed your extraordinary self-control! I hope you will visit me every night. I need you and I love you, Remus._

His body flared and he closed his eyes to feel the sensation more deeply. He had woken that morning invigorated and fresh. Every night? Certainly. He smiled when he thought of his mission at the weekend, knowing how much Lupin would like what would come of it. He composed his responses.

* * *

He visited his vault at Gringotts at the weekend and returned straightaway to Hogwarts with the small package wrapped in velvet and then in muslin. He took out the two plain, sterling silver vanity mirrors. He had charmed them with a Protean Charm in his second year: one for him and one for Lily. They used to talk to each other every morning and every evening with these. Not as lovers; just as very best friends. They had used them until the fateful incident at the lake. She had returned hers to him a week later by house-elf. He remembered how crushed he had been when he saw what the little parcel held. There had been no accompanying note. He remembered how angry he was when he saw that she had charmed a pair of mirrors for Potter and Black for their detentions. It seemed like just another way of betraying him at the time.

When he received the return of Lily's mirror, he had wrapped the two mirrors together and kept them under a floor board at Spinner's End until he inherited the Prince vault on his mother's death, and the mirrors were placed there with the few other treasures that he had. Since he found out that Lupin would be going to Egypt, he had pondered whether to give one of the mirrors to Lupin, given its history. Now it was a reality, he found he missed him so intensely, the mirrors' history seemed to be of no relevance. There was no point to holding on to the mirrors for old time's sake. He paid plenty to respect Lily's memory, every day of his life that he spent in this school. He didn't need to hold on to these. It turned out not to be the wrench he had feared.

He took out one and placed it by his bedside, and then wrapped its mate in the velvet and muslin and then placed a cushioning charm around it and packaged it up and sent it to Lupin with a short, charmed note:

_Beloved,_

_I have its mate._

_Severus_

* * *

"Severus."

Snape thought groggily that he must be dreaming.

"Severus, wake up." No, definitely Lupin's voice. He smiled to himself as he turned to face the mirror on his bedside table to see Lupin's smiling face. "Sorry it's so early. I got this in this morning's post and have to go to work soon. I wanted to say good morning and thank you. It's a brilliant idea."

"Good morning, Remus," Snape said, his voice morning-deep, smiling at the mirror. "What time is it there?" His own clock said it was 5.30 in the morning.

"It's half past seven. I start work at half past eight. You have me for forty five minutes before I have to leave. What shall we do?" Lupin smiled wickedly.

"I thought we might talk to each other," Snape said, mockingly.

"We could do that as well, especially how you sound right now," Lupin purred. "But you know what I'd like. Please Severus. We can watch each other."

Not even so much as a chaste honeymoon period for the mirrors then, Snape thought to himself, amused. He knew it would happen, but it made him smile just the same, and, well, he missed Lupin in the morning as much as he missed him at night.

He touched one of his chest bites, very gently, watching Lupin's face as Lupin hitched a breath and sighed and then moved to his chest, delighting in the sensation and the lust in Lupin's eyes, and seeing Lupin's lips part as he ran his tongue along his lips and said his name softly like a sigh, "Oh Severus."

"Remus," he said breathlessly, realising it wasn't enough. "I want to see you." He cast _Engorgio_ to the mirror audibly. Lupin face broke into a broad smile and he did the same and each man cast a levitation charm on his own mirror to look at the full length of his lover as they stroked themselves for each other.

* * *

As the weeks passed towards the full moon, Lupin became more demanding in their long distance love-making. He would tell Snape when and how to touch himself, never taking his eyes from him in the mirror. They both exerted themselves fully, even without being together, pushing their own bodies harder under their own hands with each passing night to scale heights of pleasure Snape couldn't believe could be reached without Lupin's wolf magic. Each night would leave him physically exhausted but emotionally exhilarated and fresh for the next day. The tension was building palpably between them. Snape knew that, for the first time, at least consensually on his part, Lupin would take him as the werewolf on the eve of this full moon when they were at the retreat. He knew it would be what he had fantasised about before and he knew it would give him release like he had never known. All this he knew at an instinctive level. He longed for the day to come.

* * *

It was finally 19th September. Classes had finished and Snape went to his quarters to collect his small overnight bag. He had arranged with the Slytherin prefects to contact Filius, Pomona or Minerva if there were any issues, he having business out of the castle. He received a note from a house elf as he was about to leave from Albus requesting an urgent meeting in his office. _What was this? Well, it couldn't take long, surely?_ He shrunk his bag and made his way to Dumbledore's office.

Moody was there, standing legs astride and arms akimbo, his aggressive stance, with a Slytherin six former in front of him. It was Joshua Doyle, a studious and inoffensive half-blood. One who was quite clearly under the Imperius curse.

"You summoned me, Albus," Snape enquired silkily, his head tilted to one side.

"Ah, yes, Severus," Dumbledore said, leaning forward. "Alastor found Mr. Doyle here wandering the corridors, clearly under the Imperius curse. We have yet to be able to lift it from him. Hopefully, you can assist."

Snape's mind whirred, turning over in his mind what this might mean. Dumbledore couldn't lift an Imperius curse? How could that be? Even Moody should have been able to lift it on his own.

"I believe I mentioned that I didn't consider teaching the children this particular curse was an _intelligent_ course of action," Snape observed smoothly, standing in front of Doyle and turning his head from side to side.

Moody snorted. "Be that as it may, Snape, are ya able to assist or just stand there and let one of your own snakes be a pawn of this Dark Art?" Moody growled, savagely.

"Usually, the Imperius only cannot be lifted if the subject is still in the vicinity of the caster," Snape said quietly.

"Perhaps you cast it," Moody snapped.

"And yet I wasn't here when Albus tried to remove it, was I, _Professor_ Moody," Snape hissed. The man was trying to blame him in front of Dumbledore. The realisation hit him full force: of course, Moody cast it on Doyle. But why, just to get Snape here in Dumbledore's office. It made no sense.

"Maybe, maybe, Snape. Clearly, it's been modified. But as a practitioner of the Dark Arts, perhaps you're able to relieve your student's distress," Moody snarled vehemently.

"There are chants I could try ..." Snape ventured.

"Then get on with it, man ..." Moody snapped. Snape looked to Dumbledore, wondering why he didn't intervene in this, but Dumbledore met his look of enquiry with interest only. Snape knew that time was running away from him, but he couldn't leave one of his students under this curse.

It was 6.30. If he could just get away now, he would have time to Apparate to Diagon Alley and get the Portkey but it had to be now.

He tried curse-breaking incantations he knew but the curse held fast. He was joined by Dumbledore in the incantations, but the curse held fast but they both perservered. As the clock drifted towards 7, the curse suddenly lifted and the boy reeled back as if released from suspension. He righted himself and looked about himself, clearly bewildered and babbling.

"Well, Mr. Doyle, good to have you back" Dumbledore said. "Take the Floo to Madam Pomfrey and I will join you there shortly and explain everything to you." The boy took himself off.

"Well, hats off to ya, Snape. Ya managed it," Moody said, looking wildly happy, perplexing Snape and, by the look on Dumbledore's face, the Headmaster too. "I think we need to discuss what happened with Mr Doyle and how it was that his curse couldn't be lifted in the usual way. We wouldn't want that spreading through the school, now would we?" Moody said casually.

It was now just past 7 p.m. and Snape felt nauseous. He was starting to panic inside now. Time was passing. He knew he'd missed the Portkey but he needed to get to his room at least. It was all he could do not to groan out loud, he felt so sick. He tried to make his excuses to leave, asking to postpone to another day, but Moody would not let him pass.

"Don't you think we should discuss what happened to your student, Snape?" Moody growled, blocking Snape's exit with his body, his eyes boring into Snape's. Snape saw a flash of triumph in Moody's natural eye as Snape felt his stomach start to cramp with ever increasing violence, and beads of perspiration popped on his skin and began to run.

Time had run out.

As Snape pitched forward in agony and began to vomit, he was sure he saw Moody's sneer broaden to a malicious smile. Dumbledore was at his side instantly. Then Snape understood why Moody had done it.

* * *

Poppy sounded calm but concerned as she ran her wand over Snape's convulsing, contorting body. He couldn't scream or even groan, the pain left him so breathless.

"Leave him with me, Albus," Poppy said shortly. "Now Severus," Poppy said kindly. "I've not seen these symptoms before, but I've read of them. You must be honest with me. We're in the side ward. It's quite private."

Snape opened his eyes and looked at her imploringly for relief. He touched his cravat briefly on the bite. Poppy nodded.

"I thought so," she whispered, and undid Snape's cravat to look at the bite. "I thought so when I realised it was the full moon, knowing what you two mean to each other. Oh dear."

She bathed his face and the neck, front and back, as Snape was sweating with fever now and the cramps were unrelenting. "There's only so much I'll be able to do," Poppy said sorrowfully. "It's the magical connection between you. It's not treatable as such. Oh, and poor Remus will be suffering too. I hope he has help there," Poppy muttered as she undressed Snape efficiently and placed him under cool sheets and administered a cooling charm over his body and some fever relief potion, taking the sharpest edge only off the cramp allowing him to breathe a little easier.

"Why didn't you arrange to be together?" Poppy asked, as she brushed his damp hair away from his face again.

"Had a Portkey arranged ... a cursed student ... couldn't get away ...," he said beathlessly and helplessly, with great effort.

"Oh Severus," Poppy breathed. "Well, I know now. I will ensure in the future you make your Portkey." She bathed his head and body throughout the night of fevered dreams of his mate in agony, thrashing in his own pain too.

The pain eased with the coming of the sun, only gradually lifting, each minute becoming more bearable. By dawn itself, Snape could breathe properly once more, and only suffered residual pains in his stomach muscles and Poppy was able to give him some fluids.

There were the bells of a Floo call and Poppy went to her office. Not long after, she marched back to inform Snape that she had just had a conversation with the Healer at the Romanian retreat who advised that Lupin was through his transformation and needed to know about Snape's well-being and wanted to speak to him as soon as possible.

"My wand ..." Snape whispered, his voice hoarse. Poppy passed it to him from the bedside cabinet and Snape Summoned the now shrunken mirror from his quarters. Poppy smiled and left him to speak.

"Remus," he rasped. Remus's face became visible.

"Severus. What happened to you?" Lupin asked, his voice weak and cracked and his skin ashen. He looked terrible.

"I couldn't get away. I couldn't get to the Portkey. Just cramps though. Fine now," Snape said, trying to make his voice sound strong, although his stomach muscles still had the resonances of cramp in them, even now. "How did it go for you?" He brought the mirror closer to him.

"My transformation hurt me – I have some injuries," Lupin said hesitantly. "The Healer will deal with them when you and I have spoken."

"How? How did that happen with Wolfsbane?" Snape asked worriedly.

"Oh, I kept my mind. It was just the transformation itself. It went ... badly because I also had convulsions during my transformation, so I broke some bones and tore some tendons, but they'll be dealt with shortly. It was hardly "just cramps", Severus. Are you well now?"

"Yes," Snape said gently, upset that Lupin was wounded because he had not understood what Moody was about soon enough. "Poppy tended me."

They agreed to speak when Lupin had been tended by the Healer. By this time, Snape was back in his quarters, had showered and had had breakfast there when Lupin called him in the mirror.

"What happened? How did you miss the Portkey?" Lupin asked, concern on his face.

"It was Moody," Snape said angrily. "He cursed a student and wouldn't lift it until it was too late for me to get to you."

"How can you say that?" Lupin demanded. "How would he know about my Claim and why would he curse a child? He knows me. Why would he do that?"

"We already know he doesn't think twice about hurting a child, Remus. And he knew," Snape said, knowingly.

"How could he?" Lupin demanded again.

"He looks at my neck exactly where your bite is, every time he sees me. He does it openly, almost like a confrontation."

"Well, how?" Lupin looked confused.

"With his magical eye, of course."

"You're imagining it, Severus," Lupin said, sounding frustrated.

"Remus! The only reason Dumbledore couldn't lift that curse is because the caster was in the room. It was Moody, I'm telling you. He only lifted it when it was too late. Don't look at me like that. I am not a fanciful man," said Snape, affronted.

"I beg to differ, Severus," snapped Lupin harshly, stunning Snape. "You always believe people I know are out to hurt you, especially where I'm concerned, but they are not. You must control this, Severus."

"So, you won't believe me even though it was you who suffered most by his actions?" Snape said, feeling deeply wounded by Lupin's disbelief.

"Alastor Moody would never deliberately hurt me, Severus. I trust him. And Albus would know if he'd done that. I can't believe you're right on this," Lupin said, shaking his head.

"No, Remus, no Gryffindor would ever believe I was right on anything, not Albus and not you" he snapped crossly. He knew he'd made mistakes before with Lupin, but knew he wasn't making one now and his stomach roiled that even his own beloved thought he was untrustworthy.

"Please, let's talk of other things." Lupin's expression softened but Snape's stomach was lurching with offence and betrayal.

"Maybe tomorrow," Snape said curtly and turned his mirror over, mortified and hurt, cast a silencing charm over the mirror so he couldn't hear Lupin calling him and stormed out of his quarters to walk the grounds before classes.

.


	33. Full Moon Re-Claimed

Snape's mood did not improve all day. He had been disregarded by both his lover and his mentor, and deliberately brought to his knees in pain by a crazed ex-Auror who Snape was convinced had used an Unforgiveable curse on a student and who should be in Azkaban. He was incandescent with the injustice of it all.

It was clear that students knew he was in an even worse temper than usual and they scattered as soon as they laid eyes on his scowling countenance and his classes that day were the best behaved in a long time although that didn't prevent him doling out detentions of the most putrid order that he could think of. He took lunch and dinner in the Hall as a matter of principle to be there for his students, but spoke to no-one. Dumbledore tried to exchange pleasantries with him, but Snape cut short any conversation. He certainly kept well out of the way of Moody.

On retiring to his chambers, he took a bath and did not remove the silencing charm from the mirror nor sit it upright. The humiliation of his lover disbelieving him ran under his skin like scalding water every time he recalled it. He took Dreamless Sleep and went to bed angry and hurt with his back to the bedside table where the mirror lay, to all intents and purposes treating it as if it were Lupin in person.

* * *

He fared no better the next day. Dumbledore summoned him to his office to ask after his health. His response was curt.

"Severus," Dumbledore said quietly. "Poppy was unable to tell me the nature of the illness that struck you with such force."

"Really," replied Snape disdainfully.

"Will you enlighten me?" Dumbledore asked lightly.

"I will not," Snape clipped.

"I see," Dumbledore said, his eyes fixed upon Snape's unyielding posture. "Alastor has asked if we can re-convene our discussion about what occurred to Mr. Doyle. When would be a convenient time for you?"

"There is no convenient time, Albus," Snape responded, waspishly. "Moody cast the curse, and that's why neither you nor I could lift it in his presence."

Dumbledore held Snape's dark stare steadily and steepled his long fingers in thought.

"This is the second time you have ranted to me about Alastor ..."

"No, Albus, I am not ranting." Snape cut across Dumbledore. "I am merely telling you that I will not make myself available. The only danger currently in the school is Alastor Moody himself. That you choose to ignore my warnings is a matter for you. Now, if you please Albus, I shall take my leave of you." Snape turned abruptly to leave.

"No Severus," Albus said, his voice deep with command. "You will not. You will tell me why you believe such a thing."

"Would there be a point to such a fruitless exercise?" Snape sneered. "You will dismiss me out of hand, as is your wont."

"I am listening now, Severus," Dumbledore said calmly, but his hands clutched the arms of his chair as he leant forward.

"I believe Moody's sole purpose in casting the Imperius curse on the unfortunate Mr. Doyle was to prevent my leaving your office so I would become ill, in order to cause me pain and distress, and for no other purpose," he said defiantly, his body half turned so that he faced Dumbledore.

Dumbledore sat in silence, the fingers of one hand curling his long beard as he thought.

"Tell me how Alastor would know you would become ill," he asked finally.

"Because it was the full moon, Albus," Snape said wearily, unhappy that he would have to tell Dumbledore the truth of it.

"Full moon," he repeated softly, peering at Snape over his glasses. He stayed silent again. Snape stood stock still. He could play this game too.

"You needed to get to Remus?" Dumbledore asked gently. Snape nodded once.

"I see." There was another lengthy pause. "When did Remus Claim you?"

"Since the spring when Remus was at Hogwarts."

"I must be losing my touch. I missed it," Dumbledore murmured, still peering at Snape.

"Possibly the Thrall threw you," Snape commented drily. Dumbledore nodded.

"Possibly. And how would Alastor know?"

"His magical eye. He's been looking at my neck since he got here." Snape's face was burning with embarrassment now that Dumbledore should know such an intimate fact about him but, even if Dumbledore refused to believe him as Lupin had, Snape would not have it said that he should have told them both at a later date. It was important – he knew it was vital that he didn't let this drop.

Dumbledore steepled his fingers again and regarded Snape for a long time.

"I will speak," he said after some deliberation, "to Alastor. Thank you for your time Severus." Snape nodded, recognising his dismissal, and strode to the door. "And I am pleased for you both," Dumbledore added with the barest of smiles visible through his beard. Snape nodded again, and left, wondering what the upshot of that conversation would be.

* * *

The weekend at least meant he had no classes to attend and he resolved to spend the day away from his quarters. He thought he would collect ingredients from the Forbidden Forest as it was a fine early autumn day and it was an exercise that always required him to be alert to his surroundings as he would need to be deep in the Forest where the centaurs and acromantula roamed, so he could not afford to be distracted by thoughts of Lupin. Thereafter, he would brew in his Potions laboratory.

He passed the time of day with Hagrid before entering the Forest with his list of Potion ingredients to be sourced.

Deep in the heart of the forest, a large handsome owl found him. _Remarkable creature_ , thought Snape and recognised it as a Pharoah Eagle-Owl, the type always utilised by Gringotts.

He took the letter, a charmed one from Lupin.

_Darling Severus,_

_Please forgive me. I must have hurt you so deeply for you to refuse to speak to me, look at me or even dream of me._

_It was wrong of me to treat you so. I beg your forgiveness, but please don't torture me with your silence. You know how much I need you and love you. Being without you pains me. I cannot bear it._

_Talk to me, at least, my Severus. I beg you._

_Remus_

Snape shook his head as he read it again, heart swelling with love and sadness. _Happy to beg for my forgiveness, in no uncertain terms, but doesn't apologise to me,_ thought Snape bitterly. He was confused and torn as his mind worked this way and that.

He couldn't deny he missed him desperately, _but how can I justify the abject lack of trust shown in me? Surely I'd be a fool just to dismiss that!_

But the man had loved him like no other; had made him feel as no other; had shown him love and respect as no other. _What did this do to that respect?_

The man gave him rapture every night; he had learnt how to feel things physically and emotionally he had never known. Was he prepared to give that up? _Am I prepared to lie with a man who as good as called me a liar? A man who took the side of an odious, malicious man against me, the man he Claimed as his mate, when I worship him body and soul?_

Oh, his own mind was foul and harsh. It would send him back to a hollow life of gnawing solitude, physical loneliness and bitterness in a heart beat. He had to remember that he had hurt Lupin, physically and mentally, on more than one occasion by his own rushing to judgement. He need to justify himself properly to Lupin and then give Lupin the chance to speak and pray desperately they could reconcile.

He had mused upon this for hours as he worked, and once his basket was replete with his list of requirements, he made his way back to the castle, meeting Poppy in the entrance hall.

"Ah, Severus," she smiled briskly, turning to walk with him. "I've been looking for you. Remus has fire-called me to ask if I'd let you know he's called your quarters quite a few times but seems to keep missing you. I told him you'd be busy and I see you have been quite productive." She smiled again at the basket. "Brewing this weekend?"

Snape gave her a tight smile and told her what his brewing diary dictated for this weekend.

"Well, don't let me keep you. But don't forget Remus," and she unexpectedly pressed her hand against his. "Don't leave it too long," she said quietly and meaningfully. He was about to protest until he remembered that she had seen the mirror so would know if Lupin fire-called, Snape was not using his mirror.

"No, Poppy. I won't," he murmured.

* * *

Snape started the brewing as planned and took dinner in the Hall then went back to his rooms, resolving to speak to Lupin, wondering if he would be in on a Saturday evening.

He straightened the mirror and removed the silencing charm. "Remus?" he said quietly.

Lupin's face appeared in the mirror, looking drawn.

"Severus! Thank you for speaking to me," Lupin said quickly. "I've been so worried that I couldn't contact you."

"You once said to me that sometimes you need to walk away from a row," Snape said softly, his heart wildly beating to see Lupin, both happy and sad once again.

Lupin nodded and murmured, "I did."

Snape breathed in deeply. "I could not speak to you once you made it clear how you distrust what I tell you. You may well be old friends with Alastor Moody, Remus, but I am your mate – your lover – how could you not believe me?" His voice was low and haunted. "You have talked to me a great deal about trust, Remus," Snape said resentfully, "and how I must trust you. Am I not owed the same respect?"

Lupin looked abashed. "You are, Severus," Lupin said emphatically. "I was wrong not to give you the benefit of the doubt. I have offended you deeply and I am sorry," he paused, watching Snape's reaction. "Please forgive me, Severus," Lupin said earnestly.

"Do you believe me?" Snape asked simply.

"Yes, Severus. I believe you. I was shocked by what you told me: that an old friend of mine, knowing Lycanthropy as well as he does, would prevent a werewolf's mate from being with his mate at full moon was so cruel, so insidious ... I was too shocked to believe you. But I do believe you because you are my partner, my mate, and you would not lie to me, I know," Lupin said firmly.

He drew a further deep breath and looked at Snape directly. "So that leaves us with what is going on. So much about this is wrong to the core, Severus. The way Alastor behaved with Draco, with you, blocking you from getting to me, using an Unforgiveable curse on a student." He thought for some time. "But then, why is Albus unaware? Or why is he turning a blind eye? Is there something more than meets the eye here?" Lupin frowned in concentration. "What do we do?" he said quietly.

"Albus won't listen to me. I have tried to tell him what happened on the full moon, but he doesn't believe me. I don't know what else I can do," Snape said.

"I don't know when I'll be able to come for a visit, but when I do, perhaps I should come and see Alastor. If he's still behaving like this, I can at least lend my voice to support you, Severus." Snape smiled at the gesture of support.

"In the meantime, Severus," Lupin said firmly, "make sure you are far away from him at the next full moon. I can't bear to go through that again without you."

"Nor I, you," Snape whispered. "However, we have an avenging protector in the form of Poppy Pomfrey who has sworn to ensure I make my Portkey every month," Snape smiled and told Lupin of Poppy's care over that night.

"Do you forgive me?" Lupin asked hopefully.

"Yes, Remus, I do," Snape murmured.

"Do you forgive me enough for us to lie down together?"

"If I say no, will you plague me with lewd dreams of the eldest Weasley being debauched with me?" Snape smirked on seeing Lupin smile sheepishly. "What on earth made you do that?"

"I didn't start out with the intention of putting Bill in my dreams to you. I just thought of it towards the end of that first dream and I had thought that you must have found him attractive to have thought I did too so I put him in to turn you on. I felt your very strong reaction against his presence, but that there was something ... just something that was exerting a strong attraction for you."

Snape held up his index finger in thought. "You can read my mind when you influence my dreams?"

"Not as such. It's less definite than that. It more a sense of what you're feeling – of your reactions. Anyway, I admit I was intrigued. The next night, I sent myself to you and I could feel by your reaction that was what you wanted. I'm sorry Severus, I was so intrigued, I brought Bill in again and your reaction this time was mixed. You carried on this time and I knew I was giving you pleasure, but I also realised you weren't entranced by Bill, but his hair. You loved his hair. I felt that very strongly both times."

"I was terribly turned on by you and by you ordering me to take pleasure," Snape gulped hard to be discussing it so frankly, "from you inside me and a mouth on me too. It is the stuff of wild dreams, but, no," he gasped again. "No, I once cared very much for someone with red hair. It has meaning, but not of a sexual nature. The graphic nature of what you wanted me to do. It .. it ... was very disrespectful to that person. That is all I will say on it," Snape said firmly and could see Lupin knew to question it no further. Snape felt his throat constricted with embarrassment and some shame at the memory of touching that red hair, remembering Lily exactly at the moment that Bill offered himself. It turned Snape's stomach with shame.

"I'm sorry Severus, I didn't mean the dreams to upset you. I meant to turn you on, to relax you so you would touch yourself. I suppose that was rather ham-fisted of me. I suppose it's not a discussion we've ever had, whether that would turn you on or not," Lupin said, looked shame-faced.

"They – unnerved me," Snape confessed haltingly. "It's taken me a lot to trust one man the way I trust you. Two in such a situation ... I don't think I could." He looked down at his hands. "I'm sorry if that's what you want..."

"They were only fantasies. Never what I would want to do," Lupin interrupted quickly. "I could never share you Severus. Not ever!" Lupin's face paled. "Oh Severus, I didn't ... remind you of something, did I? Oh Merlin. What a fool I am ..." Lupin's eyes closed and he drew a hand over his face.

"No more of it, Remus. I don't want to discuss it," Snape said quietly, trying to dislodge the memories of the Lestrange brothers that were nudging at his mind. "Nothing would be achieved by it. Suffice it to say, by all means, send me your most truly salacious dreams - but only _ever_ of you. I will willingly accept any of you, if nothing but to be amazed at your astonishing creativity with my body," he grinned.

"I promise, Severus," Lupin said, smiling.

Snape smiled. "Tell me about the retreat in Romania."

So Lupin described the luxury retreat that belonged to Gringotts in the ancient woodland of Romania and of the werewolves and mates he'd met briefly before the full moon.

"It's quite near the Dragon Reserve where Charlie Weasley works," Lupin mentioned in passing.

"Let's not visit Charlie Weasley please, literally or figuratively. I don't want you to think you can earn your place on a chocolate frog card for your twelve uses of an adult Weasley," Snape teased and smirked as Lupin winced in embarrassment.

* * *

The lunar month passed relatively quickly. Snape kept his eye on Moody but he seemed, for now, to have tired of Snape as prey. Between classes and his brewing calendar and the final organisation all the teachers had to undertake with the Department of Magical Co-operation for the start of the tournament at the end of this month, his days were full.

His nights were full as he lay with Lupin, albeit two thousand miles apart, and they were as close as they could be. The nights followed the same pattern as the month before as Lupin became more demanding of Snape as the moon waxed.

As they lay looking at each other the night before the October full moon, Lupin said, "There is a choice of two Portkeys for you tomorrow, Severus. There is one at 4.30, if you would like to spend time with me before the transformation. There is one at 6.30, if you prefer."

"Why would I not want to spend time with you, Remus?"

"It will be our first time together for nearly two months." Lupin gazed at Snape intently for a time. "I may not be restrained, especially so near the full moon. I may ..." he swallowed deeply, " ... may be more than demanding ... with my mate ... in the vicinity of other werewolves ... I will not be able to stop .." Lupin clearly struggled.

"Remus," Snape placated, although his stomach flipped excitedly, "I had already gathered as much, just by how we are together. I am your mate and I have no doubt I will be ... ah ... receptive." He flushed as he said this, knowing as with last month, he was greatly looking forward to tomorrow. It spoke to a base instinct of Snape's. Perhaps, the very instinct that marked him as a mate for a werewolf.

* * *

Snape arrived first by Portkey. He was shown to their room by a porter. He looked around the room. Gringotts took care of their employees. The room was large and comfortably furnished with a rather opulent bathroom. Large French windows opened onto the forested grounds. There was a tang to the air of the place. He supposed that other werewolves were gathering, some with lupine mates, others human. The pheromones were unmistakeable.

He hung up his travelling cloak and robe and took off his boots and cravat. Lupin hated shoes indoors and encouraged Snape not to wear them when they were together – _wants to pad about!_ Snape snorted. Lupin also hated Snape's cravats. They constituted everything he considered "buttoned up" about Snape. He loved to have access to Snape's neck. At the farmhouse, he hadn't even let Snape unpack them. They were work clothes as far as Lupin was concerned. Hell, Lupin would have him naked all the time if he could. Merlin help him, just that thought sent his desire rocketing through him.

His eyes alighted on a drinks cabinet. He had a small tot of Firewhiskey. He was more than nervous. His stomach turned somersaults waiting for Lupin to arrive. He hadn't been with him for nearly two months and his body was aching for him and as the minutes ticked by, his yearning became less bearable. It went without saying Lupin would be demanding with the moon waxing full but Snape's body was tremulous in anticipation, his adrenaline was starting to pump as if preparing him for what would come shortly.

The wait was over as he heard the door unlock and open and Lupin entered the room, whisking off his cloak and his robe and flinging them to the side as soon as he laid eyes on Snape standing in the middle of the room.

"Severus!" Lupin said lustily as he swept Snape into his arms and kissed him forcefully. "Oh Merlin, Severus, I've missed you," he growled into Snape's neck and carried on kissing him, almost bending him backwards.

There was no doubt in Snape's mind that Lupin seemed larger as if expanded in his chest and arms. He seemed stronger and his scent was almost overwhelming. He pulled Snape's shirt off his body and sucked hard on his neck making Snape's knees weak. He was overpowering Snape in every way just with his presence, his musk, his kiss and embrace.

He pushed Snape onto the bed, his hands deftly removing Snape's trousers so he was quite naked and slightly trembling at the barely contained power Lupin was exuding over him. Lupin sucked and bit at Snape's stomach around his navel and with no ceremony stroked his fingers into Snape, forcing his hips up and making him cry out in shock and pleasure and pain mixed but he craved it and pushed back on to them as Lupin growled his name again. Then Lupin stood, removing his fingers, making Snape whimper at their loss.

"Undress me, Severus," he growled low in his throat, his eyes dark, broody and dilated, moving across Snape's body, his breathing deep, as if scenting Snape. Snape got up, removed Lupin's shirt, then fell to his knees to remove each boot, as Lupin steadied himself on Snape's shoulders, then undid the cord of his trousers to smooth them down Lupin's thighs and off his body. He clasped Lupin's hips and took the head of Lupin's cock in his mouth and then the full length of it greedily, savouring its taste, the act of sucking Lupin driving him mad with desire and need. His body was burning savagely, way beyond normal need. He sucked on Lupin hungrily, his hands grasping Lupin's hips harder and pulling at them to drive into his mouth. Lupin groaned continually deep in his throat, fisted Snape's hair tightly and joined the drive, Snape humming with his own pleasure against Lupin's erection, until Lupin was almost at the brink but then Lupin pulled away.

He went to his knees in front of Snape and pulled him to himself and kissed him bruisingly hard, grabbing both of their erections in one large hand, pumping them hard and very fast together as Snape grasped at Lupin's back. Lupin brought them to orgasm fast to Snape's dismay, until he realised that Lupin had not finished. Indeed no.

"I want to make this last," he growled into Snape's ear. "Turn for me, Severus, and brace yourself against the bed." Snape did so, already another thick hot rock of desire settling in his gut and groin and he started to harden again. Lupin knelt behind him, stroking his butt cheeks hard, almost growling in the base of his throat. Just the sound made Snape's cock weep and twitch and his body flare brighter and harder.

Lupin placed a restraining hand on one of Snape's shoulders as he pushed his fingers in hard into Snape. Snape's thresholds had already risen from Lupin's earlier intrusion and he pushed back onto the fingers, then they pushed in deeper and harder and found his prostate, driving at it to make Snape call out. Even the pace Lupin set with his fingers was punishing and Snape's body was beginning to tremble harder.

Lupin then thrust his cock into Snape in one motion, only stopping very briefly to clamp his mouth over his Claiming bite on Snape's neck, and pull the skin and muscle in, making Snape cry out in desperation at the intensity of it all. At Lupin's first deep thrust, his teeth bit through the skin and muscle and sucked hard, and Snape came hard and uncontrollably, his body shuddering and his arms shaking, his muscles sheathing Lupin contracting and pulsing against him hard.

Lupin sucked on the bite hard as he now thrust deeply and animalistically into Snape, who was delirious on the bite crying out with every thrust driving sharply and scorching into his core, making him compliant and receptive to every punishing thrust, his muscles still contracting causing Lupin to become more desperate and fast, one hand raking into the flesh of Snape's side and stomach. It should have pained him, but all Snape felt was searing pleasure throughout his body as Lupin re-charged the bite more forcefully and Snape became hard once more.

Snape's arms could no longer hold him up, but Lupin's arms, charged and strengthened by the werewolf's debauched and frenzied lust, held the delirious, ecstatic Snape fast as his plunging thrusts became erratic, his grunts deeper and guttural with them, until he roared his orgasm and completed it with a few more brutal thrusts then bit down once more on his bite for Snape to come again.

He held onto Snape's body as they both gasped raggedly for air, taking time to stabilise. Lupin manoeuvred Snape onto the bed. Then, Lupin bent his head to the deep scratches on Snape's body and licked the blood from them, tonguing them to seal them then he enveloped a trembling Snape in his arms, holding him close, stroking and holding his arms firmly but tenderly as he told him how he loved Snape beyond life itself. Snape's body began to settle and calm into a deep and throbbing contentment, although his mind was still unfocused and inarticulate. Each throb in his soreness sent pulses of pure satisfaction and cleansing like a salve over his shredded nerves. He had been rendered completely submissive to Lupin by the magical Claim, and it was everything he had hoped for. His throat was too parched and sore from crying out to tell Lupin he loved him so he kissed the arms that embraced him and Lupin kissed him tenderly and lovingly.

Lupin cleansed the bed, got them some water, and they lay together for an hour. Then Lupin got up and fetched Snape's shirt and trousers and dressed him gently then poured them both a tot of Firewhiskey.

"I'll be transforming soon," he said quietly, as he and Snape held each other. "When I do, I want you to hold me."

Snape propped himself up on one elbow, startled. "But how when your bones are breaking...?"

"Not tightly, but hold your arms around me." Lupin demonstrated. He put his arms around Snape but didn't quite touch his body, as if making a circle around him but moved them as if in a caress. "I spoke to a werewolf and his mate last month, and he told me that this eases the transformation."

"Then we will try it," Snape said.

Lupin settled back onto Snape's chest and they waited, their breathing changing as the atmosphere in the room thickened. Snape felt the pull on his stomach as Lupin rose to his knees away from Snape and began to whimper as he went rigid. Snape got to his knees behind Lupin and held his arms around him with his hands outstretched as Lupin started to shake, his voice rising to a scream as his bones broke and his tendons tore, reforming to his lupine form.

Snape watched, still feeling horror, but less as his close proximity did not allow him to see the full form breaking down and recomposing. He kept his arms in a flowing brace around Lupin until the wolf howled and then sat whining and panting before him. He felt the wolf dig his muzzle into his hand and Snape allowed his arms to close around the wolf's crest and he hugged him and breathed in deeply as the wolf panted.

The wolf turned to face him, panting, nuzzled Snape back and then curled up next to him and placed his head on his lap, to all intents a lap dog. Snape stared in wonder and stroked the wolf's head, looking into Lupin's eyes.

"I know I've got classes tomorrow, but we'll run if you want."

The wolf shook his head, barked, and laid his head back down on Snape's lap.

"Exhausted yourself, have you?" Snape smirked. "Thank Merlin for that," he said softly, as he ached profoundly and all over and really hadn't felt up to even sitting on a broom! Snape curled himself on to the bed and the wolf repositioned himself so that Snape lay behind the wolf's curled up form and they feel to sleep easily.

Snape and the wolf awoke just before the transformation, their bodies readying them. Snape shook himself awake and knelt and the wolf sat looking into Snape's eyes. Snape smiled at him.

"See you soon, Remus," Snape said softly as he felt his stomach start to pull and the wolf began to whine.

* * *

They awoke again a couple of hours later, Lupin resting against Snape's chest with Snape's wrapped arms around him, just as he had when Lupin transformed.

"Good morning, Remus," Snape purred and passed Lupin some water to drink.

"Good morning, Severus," Lupin croaked.

"Do you feel any better than usual?" Snape enquired, his eyes running briefly over Lupin's body to confirm what he had already checked when Lupin reverted: that there were no injuries.

"Yes, less tired," he said, and he turned his head and raised his mouth to Snape's chin. "Certainly well enough for your particular ministrations." Snape raised an eyebrow.

"So soon? Don't you ache?" he asked.

"I do. But I wish you to make me ache in a different way. You have to leave me shortly, and I want you to take me first. Get rid of those clothes," Lupin breathed as he pushed gently back on Snape's hardening cock and ran his outspread hand along the length of Snape's thigh as he kissed Snape's chin.

The moon had waxed full last night, and Snape had been Lupin's fully. Today, the moon waned, and this morning, to reward Snape's total trust of the night before, Lupin would be Snape's gladly.


	34. The Choice of Champions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes from chapters 15 -18 of GoF are in bold and © J.K. Rowling.

After all the staff and the Ministry's intricate planning, the date of the arrival of the delegations from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons had arrived. It was the day before Hallowe'en. Snape couldn't get it over with soon enough. The week leading up to the arrivals, no-one had been concentrating on their work, and accidents in Potions had doubled. It had been a very trying week, but now the day had come.

 **The Heads of houses were ordering their students into lines.** Snape noted how the Gryffindors could keep neither order nor seemliness as they jostled over each other for position. His own House members had a far greater appreciation of the proper behaviour and lined up in an orderly manner, youngest and smallest to the fore, under his sharp, watchful eyes.

Snape allowed himself a small smile on hearing all the students gasp and whisper as they set eyes on the gigantic, horse drawn powder blue carriage pulled by a dozen giant, winged palominos with eyes of flame that brought the delegation of Beauxbatons spiralling down to the front of the castle. This was followed by further gasps and whispering on seeing the part-giant headmistress, Madame Maxime. Dumbledore welcomed her warmly together with her dozen students, poorly clad against the Scottish autumn.

The magical steeds were left in the care of a clearly smitten Hagrid and the anticipation heightened for the arrival of the Durmstrang contingent. Snape smirked at the theatrical grandeur of the disturbance deep in the Black Lake becoming a whirlpool from which a black mast erupted followed by the magnificent, skeletal Man o' War. It was melodramatic and gothic: the students loved it. Snape rolled his eyes in despair, knowing he'd have to relay all this detail to Lupin tonight, who would lap up every bit of it.

The all male delegation disembarked, all wearing the customary furs of the Russian steppes. The assembled crowd was now alight with supposition and wonder.

Then Snape saw him. Igor Karkaroff striding to greet Dumbledore, for all the world as if the man had never been that trusted lieutenant for all plans and plots for Muggle murder and torture in the Dark Lord's service. He chanced a look at Moody and saw undisguised and vehement loathing etched on the man's mutilated features for what he undoubtedly saw as another Death Eater without his just desserts. Well, he hoped Karkaroff might distract Moody somewhat. Moody was no more than Karkaroff deserved.

He noticed the susurration in the crowd at one of the Durmstrang students. Ah, Viktor Krum: the international champion Quidditch player. _Perfect,_ Snape thought disdainfully at the frantic adoration he witnessed from both male and female students alike, even spotted Potter and Weasley looking positively besotted. _Well, three guesses what Potter will want to be in a few years time!_

All the students, staff and delegates made their way in to the Great Hall and, as Snape had instructed, the Slytherin prefects were quick to offer the Durmstrang students places at the House table. He noted Filius had clearly done likewise with Beauxbatons. Minerva was clearly put out she hadn't thought of it, but conceded the point lost with a wry nod to him. He noted with a barely suppressed sneer the consternation of some of the less sophisticated students seeing some continental dishes appearing at the feast. But by the most entertaining thing he saw that evening was when one of the Beauxbatons girls merely walked to the Gryffindor table, and broke a hundred pubescent hearts and simultaneously raised their collective blood pressure dangerously. _Part Veela surely_ , Snape thought, looking at the boys' completely unguarded testosterone-driven reactions.

"It'll be nice for ya to have your double-dealing, murdering friends with you, I'm sure," Moody snarled at Snape in passing as he escorted two late comers to the feast. Confused by the plural, Snape was surprised to see Ludo Bagman, acquitted collaborator of the Death Eaters, along with Barty Crouch from the two departments of the Ministry that had been in charge of the arrangements for the tournament joining the feast for the introduction of the Goblet of Fire. Snape remained impassive to the taunt, but uncomfortable to have both Karkaroff and Bagman, as former Death Eaters, under the school roof.

The Goblet of Fire was produced as the impartial selector of the champions and Dumbledore reiterated to the students the binding nature of the selection of the champions and that he would draw an age line to prevent anyone under the age of 17 entering. It was moved to the entrance hall. With that done, the feast broke up.

Snape was very interested to witness Karkaroff and his students run into Potter. There was no doubt in Snape's mind that Karkaroff's reaction was one of animosity, even hatred, and he watched carefully in case he would be required to step in, but Moody was suddenly there and Snape watched the blood drain from Karkaroff's face to see the ex-Auror responsible for his incarceration face to face again. **A terrible look of mingled fury and fear came over his face.** Snape understood it well.

The next day, a number of students were admitted to Poppy's care with resplendent facial whiskers following their independent, yet equally abject, failures to hoodwink Dumbledore's age line. Snape was pleased to note that not one was a Slytherin. As far as he was aware, only Warrington had entered his name, and only after consultation with Snape himself.

The feast was laden with anticipation. Snape didn't feel that the students enjoyed the food as much as their teenage appetites would normally demand. Only the choice of champions occupied their minds.

The time arrived and Dumbledore officiated over the drama of the Goblet's choices. **The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything... the sparkling bright bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. ... The flames** **inside the Goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly ... and ... a charred piece of parchment flutter** ed **out of it – the whole room gasped.**

Thus, the first champion, Viktor Krum for Durmstrang was chosen, and he made his way with much adulation into the next chamber.

The Goblet ejected its second choice to the same wonderment of the students and their visitors and Fleur Delacour of Beauxbatons, the part Veela, was selected.

For the third selection, the Hogwarts champion: Cedric Diggory of Hufflepuff! _A Hufflepuff!_ Snape thought in wonder. _Well, Diggory was a good student and athlete – why not?_ The Hufflepuff table had erupted in unalloyed joy and, with some pleasure, he saw Pomona wreathed in happy smiles, but better still, the Gryffindors were less than ecstatic.

Dumbledore was just starting his closing speech when Snape noted he became distracted and then saw the Goblet firing red again. _What – could – this – be?_ The staff table became agitated and then another parchment shot into the air, to be caught automatically by Dumbledore and stared at for a long time.

He read out, "Harry Potter."

Snape's face may have been impassive but he was stunned. _How had the brat done it? How had he beaten the age line set by Dumbledore?_ _He had been foolish to think Potter would not find a way to embroil himself in this and bring himself to danger to stay in the public eye._ He saw Minerva rush to her feet and go to Dumbledore and hiss to him, "However that was accomplished, he cannot compete. He's just a child!" Dumbledore nodded.

Snape scoured the room for the brat, surprised he hadn't strutted forward to claim his place immediately. The students' angry whispers were becoming louder now. _Good! Cheats should never prosper,_ Snape thought bitterly as finally Potter came forward, hesitatingly. _Oh, the very picture of innocence but always determined that the rules are for lesser mortals than a Potter._ There was no doubt that Potter knew how to dissemble well. Dumbledore sent him into the ante-chamber also, the Great Hall now in an uproar.

Snape joined Dumbledore, Minerva, Karkaroff, Crouch and Madame Maxime in a hurried and waspish conversation whereby Karkaroff and Maxime threw accusations of cheating at Dumbledore and Crouch, from which Minerva and Snape defended him as they made their way to the ante-chamber.

The accusations continued into the chamber but Snape knew where the fault lay.

" **It's no one's fault but Potter's, Karkaroff," said Snape softly. His black eyes were alight with** knowledge of the child's disregard for his own safety. **"Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrive here - "**

" **Thank you, Severus," said Dumbledore firmly, and Snape went quiet, though his eyes still glinted** with the certainty of Potter's wrong-doing.

Dumbledore questioned the boy again who denied it, _of course._ **Snape made a soft noise of impatient disbelief in the shadows.**

Dumbledore continued to question the boy, and Minerva, of course, stood up for her protégée to the extent of glaring at Snape himself for having the temerity to question Potter's veracity. He and Minerva got on very well, as a rule. They invariably fell out over Potter, however.

Karkaroff appealed to Bagman and Crouch to overrule the Goblet's selection of Potter. _Surely,_ Snape thought _, if it is against the age line, it can be overruled and put paid to Potter's latest exploits._

" **We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament."**

" **Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front," said Bagman, beaming and turning back to Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, as though the matter was now closed.**

" **I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students," said Karkaroff. He had dropped his unctuous tone and his smile now. His face wore a very ugly look indeed. "You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue adding names until each school has two champions. It's only fair, Dumbledore."**

" **But Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that," said Bagman. "The Goblet of Fire's just gone out - it won't reignite until the start of the next tournament -"**

Karkaroff made all kinds of empty threats but then, the already ugly mood in the room took a turn for the worse as Moody entered.

" **You can't leave your champion now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"** Moody snarled.

" **Convenient?" said Karkaroff. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody."** Snape noticed that Karkaroff's hands **balled themselves into fists.**

" **Don't you?" said Moody quietly. "It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter's name in that goblet knowing he'd have to compete if it came out."**

" **Evidently, someone 'oo wished to give 'Ogwarts two bites at ze apple!" said Madame Maxime.**

" **I quite agree, Madame Maxime," said Karkaroff, bowing to her. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards -"**

" **If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Potter," growled Moody,** " **but… funny thing… I don't hear him saying a word…"**

Snape inclined his head to listen to the nuances of what Moody was saying. As much as he didn't put it past Potter for one instant to try for fame and glory, Moody might be on to something. But since he didn't trust Moody, what did he make of that?

" **Why should 'e complain?"** exclaimed the part Veela. " **E 'as ze chance to compete, 'asn't 'e? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honour for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money - zis is a chance many would die for!"**

" **Maybe someone's hoping Potter is going to die for it," said Moody, with the merest trace of a growl.**

 **An extremely tense silence followed these words.** There were various inane protestations, but not from Snape. He began to think through what would have been required to get Potter's name in the Goblet. For the first time this evening, he realised Potter simply wasn't capable of it. He kept silent and watched the proceedings carefully.

" **Imagining things, am I?" growled Moody. "Seeing things, eh? It was a skilled witch or wizard who put the boy's name in that goblet … Because they hoodwinked a very powerful magical object!" said Moody. "It would have needed an exceptionally strong Confundus Charm to bamboozle that goblet into forgetting that only three schools compete in the tournament… I'm guessing they submitted Potter's name under a fourth school, to make sure he was the only one in his category…"** As untrustworthy as Moody was, Snape considered that in this he might well be right: this could well have been the method. It made sense.

" **You seem to have given this a great deal of thought, Moody," said Karkaroff coldly, "and a very ingenious theory it is - though of course, I heard you recently got it into your head that one of your birthday presents contained a cunningly disguised basilisk egg, and smashed it to pieces before realizing it was a carriage clock. So you'll understand if we don't take you entirely seriously…"**

" **There are those who'll turn innocent occasions to their advantage," Moody retorted in a menacing voice. "It's my job to think the way Dark wizards do, Karkaroff - as you ought to remember - "**

Snape's breathing was deep. His senses had heightened, just as they used to be when he was spying for Dumbledore. Every nuance and gesture of both men was measured, weighed, calculated for guilt – for any trace of mendacity. He found both men wanting. Neither was to be trusted. He was convinced now. Potter had not put his name in. His vow was called upon again. Snape wondered who had done it, and for what purpose.

As they all quit the chamber, Bagman stayed for a nightcap with Dumbledore and Snape fell into step with Minerva.

"Surely, it cannot be right to say that it constitutes a magical binding contract if the boy did not put his name in?" Minerva said fretfully as they walked together.

"It is not right morally, but that is not to say that magic will not bind Potter. Crouch says it does, so perhaps we can do no more than watch it play out," Snape said softly.

"You believe Mr. Potter now then, Severus?" Minerva looked at Snape searchingly.

"Despite the general misbegotten belief that your beloved Potter is the saviour of the wizarding world," sneered Snape, "he is too much of a dunderhead to have Confunded the Goblet of Fire, so yes, I do."

"A simple 'yes' would have sufficed, Severus," Minerva said tartly.

* * *

Snape brought the mirror to his table in his drawing room and sat with a glass of Firewhiskey and recounted the whole story to Lupin. Not the humorous anecdotes he was originally expecting to regale Lupin with; but the story of the selection of the fourth champion. Lupin, after his initial shock at Potter's selection, listened intently to every word Snape said without interruption. When Snape had finished, Lupin downed his own glass, refilled it and spoke.

"I'm horrified by what you've told me Severus, but in a way, I wondered if something was on the horizon. Now, you know I've had correspondence with Sirius," Lupin said gently. Snape nodded curtly, never keen on the topic of Black. However, he had mastered himself enough to learn that it was better that Lupin shared his news of Black, rather than keeping it from Snape because he reacted badly. He had schooled himself to be impassive. "I am going to entrust you with this confidence, Severus, although it's not my confidence. However, I think it is vital that you know this." Snape leant forward.

"Sirius has received some letters from Harry. His scar has been hurting since the summer and Sirius has returned to the mainland to see him. Now, don't be angry!" Lupin said quickly seeing Snape's face darken. "I know where Sirius is. It's probably best I don't tell you but I am asking you, as my mate, not to breach this confidence in any way."

Snape breathed deeply for a while. He knew Black to be innocent so he was not concerned that he was on the mainland (although he very much did not want to come across him). He was uncomfortable that Lupin had kept this from him, although he understood why he had. No, that was not why his face had darkened. That scar hurting Potter was why he had scowled. He was aware that Dumbledore thought that scar was more than just a scar although he had not divulged all his thinking to Snape. All Snape knew at this stage was that the scar paining Potter often indicated the Dark Lord's presence. Surely that could not be the case? Well, he had inhabited Quirrell for a whole academic year, and Snape had missed that. Could he be possessing someone else now? Moody? Karkaroff? Bagman? It didn't sound likely if the pain happened over the summer when the boy wasn't at school. Snape would need to investigate.

"We both believe something very Dark is gathering around Harry," Lupin continued. "And his being selected from the Goblet of Fire seems to confirm it." Lupin took a deep breath. "Severus, I know you do not care for Harry, but I beg you to be my eyes and ears on this and, for me if nothing else, look to his safety."

Snape gave a small smile. He would be doing this anyway for his vow, but Lupin's entreaty at least meant he could share his thoughts and any misgivings with Lupin.

"Of course," he said gently. "But understand that I cannot help him with the challenges as a teacher, and you will need to keep me abreast of anything Black discovers from Potter."

"Yes, of course," Lupin said. They each drank, with their own thoughts.

"Severus," Lupin broke the silence. "Your Dark Mark ... have you noticed ... is it ...?" Lupin ventured. Snape had not even disrobed since he got in. He took off his robe and rolled up his shirtbsleeve and took a small, sharp breath.

"Slightly darker ... yes, not deep yet, but it is noticeably darker," Snape replied, his throat drying as he looked at his inner forearm (the conversation he had long ago thought of having with Dumbledore suddenly seeming pertinent again). "He is slowly gaining strength."

"This does go some way to explaining why Albus has brought Alastor to the school, don't you think?" Lupin said carefully.

"You believe he knew Potter would be selected?" Snape asked, incredulously.

"No, no. But you said that Albus is sensitive to Dark magic. Voldemort's is the Darkest magic of all. Perhaps Albus is sensing Voldemort's gradual return to strength and having two Death Eaters in the castle for the tournament, he thought he should load our side a bit."

"Possibly," Snape considered, although nothing would shake his belief that Moody was a danger in himself (and had already proved he was a danger to Snape).

They had talked long into the night, swapping theories about who might be behind Potter's selection and whether it was his ultimate destruction that was sought or was it something ... else.

Their minds had been far too overworked for their usual love-making during the night. The following morning, however, Lupin called Snape from the mirror next to his bed, and they cast the charm to watch the full length of each others' bodies. Snape touched the neck bite that ignited the reciprocal feelings on their skin and nerves and they spent hours together that morning, Lupin encouraging Snape to push his own body and therefore Lupin's further and further through the bites on his body delivering to himself and to Lupin erotic pleasure and fierce release.

Their love-making had a different tone: an undertone of anxiety that their relationship, by no means simple for them anyway, had just become more complex. There was now a further dimension to what Snape felt: the emotional love, the primal lust, their intellectual compatibility, the affection. Snape knew it by its taste. It was nascent fear.

* * *

"I still maintain that Potter is not obliged by any magical contract to which he is not a willing party," Snape said softly. "Since he did not put his name in the Goblet, the obligation cannot arise."

"Well, you've certainly changed your tune," Dumbledore said, with a smile.

"Lucky for you, my tune-changing has been quite beneficial for you, has it not Albus?" Snape clipped. "In any event, there remains the matter of a certain vow I made to the boy's mother's memory. We need to explore every course available to us and not dismiss it out of hand. The boy's life is now in very real danger, and no-one seems to be prepared to challenge this." Snape said, staring at Albus intently.

"Barty is adamant that Harry is bound. All that is required is that Harry's name is selected, _not_ that he is willing."

Snape snorted softly. "I wonder if that is true. It sounds like no other wizarding vow of which I am aware."

"I agree, Severus," Albus said wearily. "I will write to the Supreme Attorney of the Wizengamot for a determination, however. I won't tell Harry though. I don't want to get his hopes up that he will be released and then find out he has missed his preparation time."

* * *

The boy was being taunted mercilessly. Snape's own House had enchanted supporters' badges in a way that was remarkably cruel. Well, he had no problem with that: there was no love lost between Slytherin and Potter. However, it was apparent to Snape that many in Gryffindor were hostile to the boy for his selection, believing him to have cheated to enter. Even Weasley, he had noticed today in Potions, was giving Potter a wide berth. If it had been another child, he might have had sympathy. Potter would turn it to his advantage though; of that he was quite sure.

He and Malfoy had had yet another pointless duel in the corridor and their spells had hit their class mates – Goyle and Granger. Snape's admittedly insensitive handling of Granger's dental predicament earned him the vocal ire of both Weasley and Potter. He punished them, he felt fittingly, and watched Potter's thunderous countenance with interest.

The brat really was an open book. Never had there been a mind so unguarded and ripe for the picking – only the lightest of intrusions yielding everything Potter's shallow mind had to give. At this precise moment in time, Potter was wishing **he knew how to do the Cruciatus Curse… he'd have Snape flat on his back like that spider, jerking and twitching.** Flat on his back to that brat of a pureblood! _Never! Oh there were times, Lily ...,_ he thought ruefully on his vow.

" **Antidotes!" said Snape, looking around at them all, his eyes glittering. "You should all have prepared your recipes now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then, we will be selecting someone on whom to test one…"**

 **Snape's eyes met** Potter **'s, and** the brat actually thought that **Snape was going to poison him.** He read the child quite clearly: Potter was imagining **picking up his cauldron, and sprinting to the front of the class, and bringing it down on Snape's greasy head.** Yes, he definitely thought "greasy" on top of his desire to do violence on Snape's person!

How was it possible for the child to be so idiotic? How could he be poisoned by an antidote? _Merlin, Potter was thick._ He certainly had intended to test an antidote on Potter: Malfoy had prepared a recipe for an acceptable long-lasting dragon saliva anti-venin that Snape thought should be helpful for the first task, just in case. However, the lesson was interrupted by Creevey summoning Potter to a photo shoot, of all things. Snape tried to ensure Potter came back for the antidote, but to no avail. Two defensive strategies: so far both failed. He wondered why he even bothered!

* * *

The full moon had come round again. It was the week before the first task and this time, mercifully, it fell on a Friday. Snape had arranged with Dumbledore for cover so that he would depart immediately after classes on the Friday so he could get the earlier Portkey again giving Lupin and him at least some time together before the moon rose, and was due to return on the Sunday morning.

He must have been distracted, keenly anticipating this time with Lupin, because, as he strode towards the gates of the castle to the Apparition point, Moody appeared without warning. _Disillusioned?_ Snape drew his wand. This time, he would not be caught by Moody. He'd Stupefy him, if necessary, and take the consequences after the weekend.

Moody sneered at the wand. "Just exercising, Snape. Don't worry, I wouldn't want to get in the way of your little tryst." He snorted and then bent in suddenly so he was inches away from Snape's face, his magical eye trained on the bite, but his natural eye meeting Snape's stare. Snape raised his wand to Moody's neck, although curiously Moody had not raised his own wand at all.

"I bet ya just like a pert bitch on heat for that wolf right now, aren't ya," he growled at Snape slowly, savouring Snape's discomfort. "I've heard all about how roughly those beasts have at their mates at the full moon." Snape was very conscious of Moody's proximity and how much the man was trying to intimidate him physically as well as being as offensive as possible. Snape stood his ground defiantly. He'd stopped backing down to bullies years ago. "Perhaps he'll make a breeder of ya! Ha! Who would have thought it of ya, Snape," he leered unpleasantly but did not break his challenging stare with Snape although Snape's wand was burning Moody's neck now, quite deliberately, gradually pushing him away from Snape. Moody suddenly flinched as the burn went deep and pushed himself away, and laughing roughly, turned and limped back to the castle, leaning heavily on his staff.

Snape strode to the Appartion point, bewildered again at what Moody had said and done, annoyed that he had become the focus for the mad man's attention again after his absence last month. Should he tell Lupin at all? He would be hurt but Moody wasn't supposed to even have these prejudices. They probably wouldn't have either the time or the inclination to discuss it when Lupin arrived, if last month was anything to go by. It would have to wait until the next day. He'd decide then.


	35. In the Company of Wolves

Lupin had arrived at the retreat before him. No sooner than Snape had walked in the room, than Lupin, already stripped to just his trousers and agitated, grasped Snape to himself and then was pushing him back against the wall, breathing his name over and over again and kissing him roughly, fisting Snape's hair whilst his other hand held Snape's body to himself tightly. Snape was assailed once more by Lupin's pheromone-enhanced size, presence and smell and was immediately overwhelmed.

"I missed you. I missed you. I missed you," Lupin whispered hoarsely as he kissed and mouthed against Snape's face. He unclasped Snape's cloak and let it fall and ran his hand down Snape's robe buttons and they wandlessly opened, and Lupin pulled the robe off, letting it drop to the floor, his mouth never leaving Snape's face, his left hand still entwined roughly in Snape's hair, who could do no more than hold on to Lupin's shoulders as his own desire left him helpless as Lupin ground his hips deliciously against his own.

"Undress for me, Severus," Lupin ordered him. "Be slow." Lupin disengaged his hand from Snape's hair and braced both his arms against the wall on which he had pinned Snape on either side of Snape's face, moving back only enough to give Snape room to move. Snape's body was already coursing with passion and adrenaline combined. He felt almost combustible. If Lupin touched him now, he would surely burst into flame. His fingers slightly trembled as he slowly unwound his cravat, staring at Lupin, who stared glassily at Snape's hands. Lupin's breathing was deep and uneven and on edge. His eyes dark and heavy lidded. As soon as the cravat released the shirt open, Lupin moaned low. Snape knew Lupin enjoyed his neck. He always feasted on Snape's neck. Snape's breathing was no better controlled and the sight of Lupin, barely containing himself, had stiffened him to the point of pain.

Snape went to pull his shirt over his head but Lupin shot one of his hands to Snape's. "No, slowly," he rasped. Merlin knew, Snape did not want to be slow. Not at all. He wanted Lupin now! This was torture. He moaned himself, his own gut and groin so aflame. He wanted to be touched to inflame him more. He wanted it all. He closed his eyes against the almighty flare he felt inside and as slowly as he could manage pulled the fabric of shirt around his waist and out of his trousers until it hung loose.

Lupin hummed deep in his throat and slipped one of his hands under Snape's shirt, clasping his side so Snape hitched a breath and arched, then tracing a probing finger around and into Snape's navel, making Snape groan, and up his chest and abraded his nipple. The other hand joined, rubbing at Snape's chest bites and leaning his head in now to bite all of what was exposed of Snape's neck greedily, pushing his body back against the wall more firmly. Snape was moaning constantly as he grasped Lupin's back and hair, a sheen of perspiration now covering his body against this soft torture of his body so in need.

Lupin took Snape's mouth roughly again, and then whipped Snape's shirt off and ran his hands roughly and possessively over Snape's torso until they reached Snape's waistband of his trousers.

"Undo them slowly, Severus." Lupin had put his hands back on the wall, but was still tantalising Snape's neck and shoulders with his mouth but stopped and leant his head against Snape as Snape undid the cord, as slowly as his trembling fingers could manage. He wanted his trousers off. He wanted Lupin's trousers off. His throat was parched and he could barely breathe now he was so turned on.

"Remus, please ..." he whispered, barely audible.

"In good time, Severus," Lupin growled very slowly and deliberately. "Soon. Be still. Let me take care of you."

Lupin dropped slowly to his knees, and slid Snape's trousers down his thighs as Snape carded his hair. On meeting his boots, he pulled each off with the trouser leg too so Snape stood naked before him. He heard Lupin growl deeply in his throat, and it made him harder still and Lupin grasped Snape's pelvic bones hard in his large hands and ran his face over Snape's painfully hard erection, making him gasp loudly.

"Remus, please," he whispered, a more demanding edge to his voice this time, the picture of Lupin rubbing his face against Snape's cock more than he could bear.

"Severus, you know when I start," he growled, looking up and into Snape's eyes as his cock rested near Lupin's full lips, "I will not stop." He licked the leaking slit just once, and Snape cried out: it was too sensitive. Lupin licked down the shaft just once, and then took Snape's erection in his mouth fully and greedily. Snape's knees weakened and he leant back against the wall, moaning as Lupin took his cock in fully and roughly, licking, nibbling and sucking him hard, humming against him and gutturally groaning his own pleasure, his hand massaging Snape's balls. Snape knew he couldn't last long. It didn't matter. Lupin wanted them both drained. Empty. Lupin wanted to ride him hard and long soon, and that was what Snape was waiting for. He didn't try to hold on against Lupin's greedy and demanding mouth and hands. He came hard against Lupin's throat, crying out, and was immediately pulled onto his own knees and they kissed hard and passionately.

Lupin lay flat on his back and Snape pulled off Lupin's trousers quickly, as Lupin grabbed Snape's head with both his hands to lower it to his cock. "Hard and fast, Severus. As hard as you can," Lupin demanded throatily.

Snape didn't even taste Lupin's head. Just covering his teeth, he drew the whole of Lupin's erection into his mouth, as far back as it would go and sucked on him. He knew by the feel of it that Lupin was moments away from his first orgasm. He manoeuvred himself so that he was to the side of Lupin so Lupin's erection angled better in his mouth, and his hand worked his balls whilst the other arm leant over Lupin's stomach to hold his hip as Snape sucked on him hard and his mouth moved up and down his shaft fast, as Lupin bucked underneath and into his mouth, gutturally groaning all the while, getting louder with each head thrust until Lupin cried out hoarsely and came hot and hard in Snape's mouth. Snape sucked and massaged until Lupin was drained.

Lupin's strong hands held him in place for a short while then Lupin raised himself to his knees, still holding onto Snape, still lightly trembling in anticipation, his head fogged and his groin on fire once more with fierce desire.

"Hands and knees, Severus. I'll give you what you need," Lupin's voice was deep and low and reverberated in Snape's core. Snape got up to his hands and knees, his back arched in his own excitement, feeling Lupin draw in behind him and stroke his butt cheeks firmly then smoothe over them to hold his hips.

Lupin's fingers pushed in hard, but Snape was ready and he pushed back, groaning loudly at the welcome intrusion. The fingers stayed and played roughly inside Snape, making him cry out and with that cry Lupin thrust himself in fully with a hoarse cry, ground himself in, groaning, with both of his arms wrapped tightly around Snape below the waist so he could grind as deeply as possible. To Snape, the grind felt as if it pierced and inflamed the furnace in his groin. He could only moan in his increasing desire as Lupin ground into him harder, as if he stoked that furnace within Snape until the fire roared and raged.

Lupin leant fully over Snape's back and found the bite with his mouth, sucked in the skin and muscle and bit down as he thrust hard and Snape's second orgasm was torn from Snape with a howl of his own, and then he was utterly lost in the frenzied delirium the bite produced in him; his body responding as Lupin demanded, his muscles contracting mightily against Lupin's cock and sending endless waves of ecstasy crashing over Snape's trembling frame as he cried out with each and every punishing thrust as Lupin rode him hard and noisily in his own frenzy of the moon's rising until his own thrusts became erratic and wild as Lupin began to crest his own animalistic orgasm as he roared his brutal release into Snape, biting again to release Snape once more, both buckling slowly onto the floor as their residual orgasms pumped hard from them. Lupin lay on top of Snape, as they both struggled with their breathing after such a length of time, Snape's body still trembling under Lupin as his adrenaline settled.

After some time, Lupin moved to Snape's side and pulled the still shaken and unfocused Snape into his arms, kissing him tenderly, as he cleansed him and around him and checked he had not drawn blood again. Then kissing him still, he carried Snape to the bed, his own strength magnified by the moon, quietly reverting to his gentle self. He laid Snape down, dressed him carefully and laid down by his side, caressing the side of Snape's face as he gazed deeply into Snape's eyes.

"There can only ever be you for me, Severus," he said quietly to Snape's ear. "My perfect mate." He folded his arms around Snape and nuzzled his neck whispering loving nothings to him as he waited for Snape to refocus.

It took half an hour before Snape felt even remotely capable of speech or movement, such was the strength of the delirium induced by Lupin's bite. During that time, Snape felt little but the wash of cleansing and contentment that each throb of his abused body brought him. It was a form of catharsis, magically enhanced by Lupin's Claim. He listened to Lupin's heartbeat and his words of love and let those wash over and cleanse him too.

As he felt more alert, he brushed his own hand against Lupin's face and they kissed tenderly and sat up together. Lupin Summoned some Firewhiskey and they had a tot together, talking of nothing in particular and waiting for the transformation.

"Do you want to run tonight, Remus?" Snape asked softly. "We won't have many nights when I don't have to be away early in the morning.

"Can you fly with me?" Lupin asked. "I will if you fly with me."

Snape Summoned his travelling cloak from the floor and pulled a shrunken package from one of the pockets in the shape of a broomstick. From the next pocket he pulled a shrunken apothecary bag. He enlarged the bag and took a generous swig of pain relieving potion after a quick salute to Lupin with the flask.

"So I can sit on the broom..." he said quickly, followed by Lupin's rather fierce blush and a smirk from Snape.

"There will be other werewolves running tonight, Severus, some have human mates too. We're all taking Wolfsbane, so don't be worried."

"Will we see them?" he asked, a slither of worry in his gut although he could see Lupin wanted to run.

"Possibly," Lupin said and Snape nodded.

When the transformation came, Snape knelt behind Lupin, and this time, he held his arms just a little closer so he just touched Lupin's flesh without restraining it. He didn't know why he did this; it just felt right.

As Snape felt the nauseating tug, Lupin's body went rigid and then his limbs started to shake and his screams turned to howls, Snape moved with the contorting, undulating and agonised form until it became the whimpering, panting wolf which Snape hugged and ruffled its crest until his whimpering stopped, his panting came under control and then he barked at Snape and ran to the French windows.

Snape put on his arm holster for his wand, his boots, followed with his cravat at which the wolf gave a small growl.

"Against the night air, Remus," Snape reasoned, giving the wolf a hard pat on his back. "I don't have a fur coat and this is Romania in November." He put on his robe and travelling cloak and gloves from the pockets, and, as he enlarged his broom, the wolf barked excitedly, pacing in front of the French windows. He flung the windows wide open and drew in the November forest air. Pine needle sharp, earthy like the forest floor and pungent with werewolves already running. He heard howling in the distance and it made his blood run cold, not with fear, but with excitement as he saw the wolf scenting the air over and over again, his body braced in excitement as Snape dragged his fingers through the wolf's crest again. He barked at Snape and Snape understood he was under starter's orders.

He mounted his broom and hovered as the wolf started to trot, looking at Snape constantly as the wolf picked up speed and then tore off towards the forest with Snape flying over him or moving side to side if the gigantic trees gave them room, every so often dropping one hand to lightly skim the wolf's spine.

The wolf dashed through the trees, the soft forest fauna of ferns and mosses barely registering his fleet paws as he darted between the giant conifers and oaks, lit by the silvery moon and Snape followed, watching the glorious animal, looking so extraordinary and natural in the ancient habitat of the wolf. As the wolf ran for the joy of running, Snape heard small animals scurry and scatter, owls hoot and the screeching of nocturnal birds. It was eerie but beautiful, like the wolf that ran before him.

Snape saw the moon was nearly at its apex. They slowed down as they reached a clearing. The moon shone on the wolf, who stood in the centre of the clearing and howled his plaintive song to the moon. And he was answered, many times over. Snape hovered and watched in wonder as other wolves slowly came to the clearing, some in pairs. Another couple of people on brooms flew over their wolves and nodded to Snape and to each other, and one wolf came accompanied by his human mate on foot. All the wolves howled to the moon, led by Lupin. Howled a repeating chorus of lupine freedom and release. Snape smiled a small smile: Lupin really was the alpha wolf. These others had come to him.

Snape noticed as the howling chorus began to decrease in frequency, those other human mates on brooms began to descend to the clearing, so he did likewise. Once the howling stopped, they had all dismounted from their brooms. Snape stood next to Lupin, his hand buried deep in his ruffled crest possessively, intrigued by the people around him as each went to their wolf.

Lupin sat and looked at Snape, his head tilting one way and then the other, and Snape understood that he wanted him to do the same, so he knelt next to Lupin, his hand still in his fur. Other couples also sat. There were three other wolves with human mates: two female and one male. There were three werewolf couples who wrapped themselves around each other.

He felt himself confused and uptight in this company of wolves. Here were people who knew exactly how he and Lupin felt about each other, what they did and how difficult life was for them and wouldn't judge them. He didn't know if he felt more comfortable because these people would not judge him, or less comfortable because they knew more than he would ever have anyone know about his personal life. Whatever he might feel, Lupin clearly wanted this interaction with these other couples. Perhaps it appealed to Lupin's open and friendly nature that, on this night of all forbidden nights, he could have company. It followed that what appealed to Lupin's nature appalled Snape's innate reserve and obsessive need for privacy. But Lupin wanted it. He could deny him nothing on this night of all nights.

The couple nearest, the woman (who had arrived on foot) introduced herself as Amelie and her werewolf mate was Jasper. No surnames, Snape noted. Snape introduced Lupin then himself by their first names. He thought he heard a gasp to the edge of the clearing, but wasn't sure. The next nearest couple were both werewolves who barked and Lupin barked in response. The third, the man introduced himself as Archimedes and his werewolf mate was Jonathan. The next couples were both werewolf couples and barked to Remus, who acknowledged them.

Finally, the last couple: the young woman introduced herself as Dora. Snape peered into the gloom and said softly, "Miss Tonks?" Lupin's head snapped up in interest.

"Yes, Professor," she answered, and Snape thought he could discern her face blushing as her hair turned darker (he suspected it would be cherry red, if it were sunlit). "And this is David." They stared at each other, disbelieving.

As far as Snape could recall, Nymphadora Tonks, one of his former students, was a newly-qualified Auror. And yet she was a Claimed mate of a werewolf. He was stunned and so it would appear was Lupin who was still staring at her, sniffing intently. Of course, he would have known her. Tonks was Black's cousin: Andromeda's daughter by Ted Tonks. Snape remembered them both from school. He wondered if Cissy knew that her niece had a werewolf mate. Had Bellatrix not been in Azkaban already, she soon would be if she found this out! He wondered if Lupin would tell Black. His mind positively buzzed with the permutations, all of which amused him, but all he said was, "You look well, Miss Tonks."

The night was chilly, and Snape lit a fire in the centre of the clearing and they all gathered around it: werewolf couples curled around each other and wolves with their heads in the laps of their human mates. The three other humans clearly knew each other and talked together and Snape listened, but did not join in. Tonks, Amelie and Archimedes talked excitedly together. They were all younger than Snape; he guessed all in their early to mid-twenties. They talked of their mates' jobs rather than their own, for which Snape was grateful. Tonks, who knew her former professor of old, didn't try to get him to answer questions but he saw her stealing looks at both him and Lupin.

Eventually, Amelie and Archimedes were carried away in the own conversation and Tonks said quietly to Snape: "So, that's why Sirius called him Moony then?" with a crooked smile.

"Yes," Snape confirmed with a small tight smile, wondering what Miss Nymphadora Tonks, Auror, shape-shifting progeny of a scion of the purebood maniac Noble and Most Ancient House of Black and a Muggle-born, a Hufflepuff (better than Gryffindor from a Black perspective, but only just, but Slytherin would never take a shape shifter), mate of a werewolf called David, would think if she knew that the wolf next to Snape knew where her convict cousin was at this very moment and that he was innocent of all of those murders. A woman of some conflicts already, how much would that conflict her? He was fascinated by the idea.

"I had no idea," she said breathlessly, looking at Lupin. "I suppose I wouldn't have: I was only a child the last time I saw Sirius and Remus, before ... well, you know." Tonks looked away, flustered and then smiled crookedly again. "May I ask how long you've been together, Professor?"

"A year," Snape answered shortly, and Lupin looked up at him and Snape hugged him closer. "Since Remus taught at Hogwarts." It had been a year since the Call, and he was stunned again, and proud. "And you with ... David?" he said, because he knew it was expected of him.

"Two years," she said, and smiled and talked warmly of how they had met through David's position in the Magical Document Verification department of Gringotts when she was on secondment as part of her Auror training.

"How have you coped with this and your work?" Snape asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"My mentor has been very understanding. I think you'd know him. His name's Alastor Moody." The wolf's head shot up again to look at Snape and Tonks.

"Yes, I know him," Snape said, his voice calm but his mind in complete turmoil. What would Miss Tonks say about Moody's "pert bitch in heat" comment? Perhaps this was just for Snape's benefit: to make his life as miserable as Moody considered it should have been?

"I hear he's teaching Defence at Hogwarts this year," Tonks ventured further. "That must be a revelation for the students."

"I believe it is," said Snape, "Unforgiveable curses delivered from the sharp end, as it were."

At this point, Amelie and Archimedes re-joined their conversation, and Snape fell silent again and listened, his arm wrapped around Lupin's neck and his hand rhythmically caressing him, calming himself as much as showing affection to Lupin.

The time passed and Lupin became restless. He looked up expectantly at Snape. "Time to go?" he whispered to the wolf. He barked and Snape stood and collected his broom and mounted it, hovering above Lupin.

"Goodbye, Miss Tonks," he said quietly. "I dare say, we shall meet again." He nodded to the other couples. Lupin barked at each of the couples and padded to the edge of the clearing, looking to check Snape was with him and then starting to trot and then to run in the silver glow of the moon.

The wolf tore through the giant trees, Snape flying at his heels, grinning broadly at the wind in his hair and the freedom in his heart as he watched his wolf fly.

* * *

It was morning. Lupin had had his least painful reversion ever and Snape had helped him into the large tub in the ornate bathroom. He got in himself behind Lupin and washed them both, luxuriating in taking his time on this day they would have together. Lupin told him who the werewolf couples were, and how he had met them on his stay at the retreat when he had been ill because Snape had been unable to get there. He had been visited by all of them the next day as the retreat's Healer had treated him, word having spread of his injuries. He was interested to note that one of the werewolf couples was also of the same sex: Jack and Guillaume.

"Oh yes, it's not so unusual. The same as for people, really," Lupin said, his voice still weak.

"So not all werewolves are dominant then? One must dominate they other?" Snape asked.

"All wolves would be dominant if they could be. They will have fought for dominance and then it would be set between them," Lupin said, and sighed as Snape washed him gently.

"Do they face prejudice amongst the werewolves?" Snape asked.

"Same as for people, I'd say," Lupin smiled.

"Did you hear what Nymphdora Tonks said of Moody?" Snape asked, broaching the subject through that opening.

"I did," Lupin said, "I felt your confusion. Have you had any more problems with him?" Lupin turned on Snape's chest to look up at him.

Snape told him that there had been nothing until yesterday afternoon, and then what had happened then. Lupin's mouth dropped.

"Those are foul, despicable things to say!" Lupin spat. "I hope you know that I don't think of you that way. You most certainly are not a bitch to me." He turned to Snape and cupped his face in one hand. "I never see you as less than a man. A sexy man who drives me wild with desire." He leant forward and kissed him, and Snape couldn't help but flush. Lupin sat back again, looking uncomfortable. "I can hardly deny that I do "have at" you on this particular night. I'm not proud of that part of my nature. I promise you, Severus, if you did not want to be with me before my transformation, I would never force you. As it is, I always feel I should apologise to you after, but I know you would hate me to do that."

"Yes, I would hate it. You know ... I have a certain _need_ sometimes ..." Snape became embarrassed to try to articulate what he hoped Lupin understood, but perhaps he didn't, "for exactly what you need before the full moon. ... Ah ... That you can give me this, at a time when you physically need it too, is an amazing thing for us. It is our compatibility." He looked down and then directly into Lupin's eyes. "Never underestimate how much I love you for it," Snape said passionately and somewhat roughly, unused to speaking of his wants so firmly, as if he were somehow entitled to this happiness. He kissed Lupin firmly. He could see Lupin looked startled but delighted, and he returned the kiss.

"However," Lupin then said with a rather wolfish smile, sitting and turning to face Snape, sliding his hands behind Snape and cupping both of Snape's butt cheeks in his palms, "you are pert and that can only be a good thing, if I may say so." He squeezed him and kissed Snape once more.

"What Moody said to me is proper pureblood prejudice. I was used to hearing its like in Slytherin or amongst Death Eaters. What he did to me, and by extension you, at the full moon in September is what a Death Eater would do for sport. It is so at odds with what you know of him, and what Miss Tonks knows. I wonder ... if ..." Snape mused, his eyes narrowing in thought.

"Yes? What are you thinking, Severus?" Lupin asked urgently.

"What if Moody has been possessed by the Dark Lord? It's happened before," Snape said quietly.

"Before? What do you mean before?" Lupin turned fully to look at Snape now, his brow furrowed.

"Did you not hear when you were at Hogwarts about Quirrell two years ago? Didn't Albus tell you?" Snape inclined his head. _Surely, Albus had told him._

"Quirinus Quirrell, the Ravenclaw? I remember him. I thought he returned to Hogwarts to teach Muggle Studies for a while," Lupin commented.

"Well then," Snape said, mentally cursing Dumbledore for not telling Lupin this. "It's quite a tale and I think repays proper telling." Snape cast a charm over the bath to re-heat it and pulled Lupin back to him to continue soaping his back. "Yes, he taught Muggle Studies. A brilliant mind, and a complete dunderhead as a teacher. Be that as it may," he waved his hand dismissively, "he decided to take a year's sabbatical for the 1990-91 academic year, and do the tour of Eastern Europe, paying particular attention to Albania."

"Albania?" Lupin echoed, questioningly, turning to look at Snape again, and being roughly turned back as if he were a squirming child, as Snape held out one of Lupin's arms to sponge it.

"Yes, Remus, Albania," Snape repeated. "Albania was the last known place of sighting of the Dark Lord .." Lupin splashed the water as he turned around fast to stare at Snape. Snape rolled his eyes impatiently and dropped his hands, waiting for Lupin to turn around again. Lupin stared.

"Last known sighting ... I don't understand ..." Lupin stuttered.

"If you let me finish, then you will understand," Snape said softly, still impatient and waiting to continue his set pattern of washing Lupin. Lupin resumed his position, and Snape continued sponging Lupin's arm, then moved to the other.

"Quirrell was brilliant, but feeble. The Dark Lord, as barely a shred of a living thing had kept himself alive on unicorn's blood..."

"No!" exclaimed Lupin, turning again.

"Will you keep still," Snape huffed, pushing him round again, and started washing around Lupin's neck and ears. "Yes, unicorn's blood. So, the Dark Lord was nothing more than a accursed half-thing, but he found and possessed Quirrell in Albania."

"No!" exclaimed Lupin, splashing around to face Snape fully. Snape threw his hands up, and then proceeded to wash himself instead.

"Quirrell wrote to Dumbledore, asking to return to Hogwarts, and applied for the Defence against the Dark Arts post. He got it."

"What? Didn't Albus suspect anything? Didn't he wonder about the change?" Lupin was wide-eyed, as he picked up a sponge for himself, enthralled by Snape's story.

"Not a thing. No-one did. Anyway, he returned. He wore a turban for no reason that anyone could define. He stuttered more than he ever had before. He was a useless Defence teacher, _obviously_." Lupin had stopped washing now and just listened to Snape, rapt. "He came back to the school because he or the Dark Lord had heard that the school was protecting the Philosopher's Stone .."

"No!" Lupin exclaimed once more.

Snape smiled this time. He should have dragged this story out more than he had, just to watch Lupin's responses. "Yes, Remus." He snorted softly, enjoying himself now, at least for part of the story, before he got the part he didn't understand and couldn't justify.

"Albus, as you know, was friends with Nicholas Flamel and was charged with keeping the Philosopher's Stone safe. He moved it out of its fault at Gringotts the very day before that vault was broken into ..."

"At Gringotts? A vault was broken into at Gringotts ...?"

"Are you a wizard or a parrot...?" Snape huffed, but smiled fondly at Lupin's sheepish smile. "If anyone could break into Gringotts, it would be the Dark Lord. However, we did not know at the time that it was he. Albus asked us all to make protective enchantments and traps around the Stone and various attempts were made upon it, thwarted by various means. Both Albus and I started to suspect Quirrell of being after the Stone, but we did not understand that he was possessed."

"So, Voldemort wanted the Stone to make himself immortal?"

"To restore him to full life, yes, and then make him immortal, whilst he had the Stone. He finally got through the enchantments, which on reflection were nothing like adequate, but was unable to get through the last. What happened then, you should know but I will tell you that particular story fully another time, but the upshot was that Quirrell was revealed to be possessed by the Dark Lord, residing, if you can possibly credit it, in Quirrell's turban. Quirrell died in the confrontation, and what was left of the Dark Lord fled from Albus." Snape took a deep breath.

"My point, obviously, is that we have proved ourselves inept at identifying if someone is possessed at Hogwarts. Now we have Moody talking to me as if he were a pureblood Death Eater, completely contrary to his known personality. Isn't it possible we are being duped again?"

"But surely, if he were possessed by Voldemort, he would just kill Harry rather than going to the trouble of putting him in the tournament."

"I don't pretend to know the mind of the Dark Lord, Remus." Snape snapped in frustration.

"No, no." Lupin and Snape sat in the water for a while. Then Lupin said, "Is there an incantation to reveal possession that could be used? If so, can it be done without Moody's knowing? That way, you could know for sure."

Snape nodded. "Yes, there is. I shall cast it when I get back although Merlin knows what I will do if I reveal the Dark Lord."

Lupin leant forward and kissed Snape deeply.

Snape mentally shook himself. "I thought, listening to Miss Tonks last night, that perhaps Moody was just being foul to me because he believes it's what I deserve. He is a pureblood after all. He would know of these things."

Lupin shook his head sadly. "I don't know which I'd prefer to be true."

"I did not understand his comment about "breeder" though. Is he saying you'll slip me a conception potion?" Snape smirked, knowing he'd identify one of those at a hundred paces.

"Not quite," Lupin said, becoming rather pink. "Werewolves have a certain ability in same sex situations ..."

"Please don't tell me you can impregnate me, Remus!" Snape suddenly said, his eyes round and wide. "Because that must never be!"

"Not without your consent, no. But if we wanted to, _only_ if we wanted to - I could create a womb in you and impregnate you." Lupin looked intently at the lather on the water, still flushed.

"That's not possible for men without a potion." Snape whispered, suddenly recalling all the pureblood horror stories that used to circulate around the Slytherin common room of how all manner of Dark creatures could impregnate humans, male or female, to make "breeders" to perpetuate their own species, by force or magic, if necessary, to dilute "true" wizarding blood; stories he'd dismissed as pureblood nonsense – until now.

"It is possible, and always has been, for werewolves. However, as I say, it can only be done if both want it. It uses an incantation both have to intone and a ritual. You don't want it, and I would never bring a werewolf deliberately into this world. We are safe, Severus," he smiled indulgently at Snape.

"Swear to me, Remus, you would not sire a child on me," Snape said, his voice low and disturbed. He had been subject to many degradations, but this would surely be the worst.

"I swear to you, Severus, I will not do that to you," Lupin said firmly.

The two sat back in the tub.

"Is it certain you would have a werewolf child, Remus?"

"I don't think I'd even get a fifty-fifty chance of a human child. The curse is active. You've seen that. It would try to perpetuate itself if it could and would vie for the egg of my mate. I wouldn't chance it. And then, even if the child were not a werewolf, it would have a father who is a werewolf, so it would be no better off," Lupin said coolly.

Snape heard all the bitterness and upset in Lupin's voice that he thought he had disguised. Another ordinary aspect of life denied to him. It saddened Snape that Lupin had denied himself something so basic that most people didn't think about it twice but just assumed would be theirs. Snape was sure, had Lupin not been a werewolf, he would be married with many children by now. He wondered how resentful Lupin was of his half-existence. He wouldn't ask; Snape didn't want to know that his love was inadequate.

Snape, on the other hand, would never have children because he feared his own violence. He feared his intolerance. He feared his intemperance. He feared sharing Lupin with a child. He feared the Dark Lord. He feared his servitude to Dumbledore. He feared he could not fulfil his vow to his long-dead childhood friend. In every way, he was imprisoned by his fear and a prisoner as craven as he could never be a father. He pushed the hateful thoughts into the back of his mind. It would not spoil this time.

They dried themselves, and summoned breakfast. There were no house elves at the retreat. Breakfast was served to them by a waitress from one of the local villages. Bright and efficient, she had a warmed trolley filled with everything British and continental for breakfast.

They sat at the small table in their room, clad in retreat bathrobes, and she served them from the trolley. They both ate heartily. Snape realised he had eaten nothing since lunch yesterday, and Lupin, well – he probably hadn't eaten properly for days. They both made up for it today. Seconds had, the waitress took everything away, bar the large pot of tea, and they went back to bed.

Snape compared it with last month, where Lupin had encouraged him to take him before he was fully recovered as he had had to leave so quickly. He had felt guilty about that ( _although not guilty enough to say no,_ he added to himself). Now, Snape had time and he intended to make the most of it. They were both well rested and had bathed and eaten. Snape wanted Lupin ready. He wanted him willing. He wanted him, above all, responsive.

Snape stroked Lupin tenderly but possessively and Snape knew that Lupin understood how Snape wanted him. He laid himself underneath Snape, his legs wide, welcoming and ready as he pulled Snape to him, softly urging him to take him, and he kissed Snape feverishly. It was a mark of how well Lupin's transformation had gone that when Snape did take Lupin this day after the full moon, Lupin was supple and energetic and more than enthusiastic. He was the most receptive Snape had ever known. Lupin had writhed and bucked underneath him almost immediately from Snape's sheathing easily inside him, and had begged Snape to be taken harder, all the time crying out his name, and had even thrashed with his own orgasm that Snape brought him to on his thrusting alone and Snape had nearly split apart with white hot rapture as Snape came powerfully into Lupin's pulsing body shortly after, each crying the other's name.

"You have given me the moon," Lupin whispered to him as they began to breathe normally again.


	36. Thoughts on Possession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes from chapter 20 of GoF are in bold and © J.K. Rowling.

Having told Lupin about the possession of Quirrell by the Dark Lord, he had inadvertently opened the floodgates of Potter's indiscretions and self-endangerment to Lupin's scrutiny and horror. They were having lunch _al fresco_ on their small room terrace outside their French windows. Lupin would not be satisfied until he had heard all the details that Snape knew and Snape had to confess that he did not, by any means, know all of it.

"So you are telling me that, aged 11, Harry and his friends got past these obstacles into each of these chambers leaving Harry to try to defend the Stone on his own in the last chamber, and he came face to face with Voldemort who used Quirrell to try to wrest the Stone from him and that Harry's touch – the touch of his hands - killed Quirrell. Harry passed out at this point but Dumbledore finally turned up, and Voldemort fled. That is an accurate summary?" Lupin's chest was heaving and his nostrils flared with his barely suppressed anger.

"As I understand it, that's correct," Snape nodded.

"Harry's touch! And Albus says that touch burned and killed a man because of his mother's sacrificial love? Well, that's completely twisted. Did Harry get any counselling? No? Words fail me. I shall have words with Albus!" Lupin chomped aggressively on his rare steak.

"It does rather leave logic standing. I have not really been able to justify it to myself," Snape said, contemplatively. _Not least because I failed to stop the Dark Lord himself laying violent hands on Lily's child through Quirrell. I suspected Quirrell and yet I failed at the first real hurdle,_ he thought miserably, and not for the first time.

"And in addition, they battled a mountain troll?"

"Correct," Snape said patiently, understanding Lupin's agitation.

"A Cerberus?" Lupin carried on the list insistently.

"Yes."

"A life-size wizard's chess set?" Lupin's voice slightly rising.

"Devil's Snare and poisonous potions?" Snape nodded. "How was that even allowed?" Lupin demanded.

"In fairness, it would not have happened if your Mr. Potter were not such a determined rule breaker," Snape said softly, knowing it wasn't what Lupin wanted to hear.

"You're too hard on him." Lupin snapped.

"And you're too soft," Snape rebuked.

Lupin stopped eating, and rested his mouth against his hand.

"Dare I ask if, at least, his second year passed uneventfully?" Lupin asked, and it was clear from his face he already suspected not.

Snape shifted uncomfortably. He wondered how just how deeply the revelations and dangers Potter had faced in his second year would distress Lupin. That Potter was a Parselmouth? That he had found the Chamber of Secrets? Had sustained the mortal bite of the Basilisk, but had been cured by Fawkes's tears? Had fought and slain the Basilisk with the Sword of Gryffindor? (What would Lupin think of a Basilisk roaming the subterranean pipes of the castle for a thousand years as a Dark creature specialist?) That Potter had come face to face with some form of revenant of the Dark Lord that was draining the youngest Weasley of her very life force? (A revenant that Dumbledore to this day refused to discuss with Snape. _What was Albus hiding?_ Snape wondered yet again. He suspected Lupin would too.)

"Finish your lunch, Remus," Snape said, now drawing his own hand over his face. This was not going to be enjoyable. "There is much to tell you, but after you have eaten."

* * *

Snape returned to Hogwarts in time for lunch on the Sunday. He had told Lupin all he knew of the Chamber of Secrets that Saturday afternoon. They had discussed at length what the existence of the revenant might mean and how Dark that particular magic was. Lupin said he had theories of his own he wanted to think on but it was clearer to him now than ever that the child was central to the Dark Lord's plans.

After this serious afternoon, they had then made the most of their time together, rarely leaving their bed, up to the moment they had parted. He hadn't wanted to leave Lupin at all knowing it would be another twenty-eight days before he could touch him again. Perhaps, it made the full moon sweeter and more intense for them. Perhaps. All he knew was that he missed him physically and tangibly, every day. The next full moon was after the school broke up for Christmas, but this year most of the students, fourth years and above would stay for the Yule Ball for the Triwizard Championship which was to be held Christmas night itself. He would see Lupin for the full moon for a couple of days, but then he would have to be back at school for Christmas and not see him again until Boxing Day. Snape found he was quite unhappy about that.

Christmas. He needed to put his mind to a present. He'd made Lily presents when they were young: small charms and magical trinkets. She had loved them all. She used to buy him books or small items of equipment she knew he couldn't afford. He always felt so shamed, but knew she had the best intentions. He wanted to buy Lupin some new clothes, but he remembered his own shame at his poverty. He didn't want to offend Lupin but, then again, Lupin seemed to let very little worry him. He certainly never appeared abashed by his poor clothing. He would have to think on it: make sure it was perfect.

Still, there was plenty to do before that. This coming week was the first task. That Sunday evening, Charlie Weasley and his team had asked the teachers to join them in the Hog's Head for a drink, as the dragons were still under the travelling stupefaction charms. Snape went along, in the feisty company of Minerva and Pomona, who he was entranced to see had become quite giggly in the company of Charlie. He wasn't sure he could quite fathom what had come over Pomona, a matriarch and senior teacher of the school who had taught Charlie from the age of 11. Snape allowed himself a small smile. He suspected that Charlie's leather vest jackets, showing his well developed torso and some rather shiny burns and his dragon tattoos possibly made him rather exotic to Pomona. He found himself secretly pleased Lupin was not here. Heaven knows what he'd make of Charlie. Snape didn't know whether to admire the man himself or just go straight to being jealous that Lupin would not be able to help but admire him.

Of course, he said very little to Charlie, but he listened with interest to the stories he and his team told. He smiled to see Hagrid so happy in these young men's company in what surely must be Hagrid's dream job.

"I love dragons," Hagrid kept saying, becoming more misty-eyed as the evening wore on. Snape was quite sure he heard Hagrid mention Charlie collecting a baby Norwegian Ridgeback dragon from Potter in his first year, but saw Charlie boot Hagrid quite aggressively under the table. He groaned mentally. If he told Lupin this, the man would probably have a nervous breakdown. A dragon on top of everything else. Perhaps, he would forget he had heard it.

* * *

Contrary to every natural inclination of Snape's, he found there was a scintilla of excitement for the first task. He had been fairly disconcerted that the Ministry had changed the original task that had been suggested to one with nesting dam dragons, making them far more dangerous. Why did everyone conspire to make Snape's vow to protect that brat practically impossible? He was having difficulty stretching his imagination as to how to help the brat with the task.

Everyone knew the Conjunctivitis curse surely – if Potter didn't, someone would tell him. Hell, Snape had used it himself on the brat's father after the incident at the lake, when he had caught Potter on his own and they had duelled. He's spent quite a long time polishing trophies for that one. He smirked: it had been worth it. If his class mates didn't know, Black surely would surely tell him. Black had spent the whole of the next term trying to return the curse on Snape whenever he saw him. Strange (Snape thought) how Black's ineptitude meant he never received a detention for casting the same curse on Snape, although he must have tried at least six times that Snape could recall, even in front of teachers. He shook his head: and they said _he_ was an unfair teacher!

* * *

The first task was over. Wizarding radio had relayed live commentary by Ludo Bagman so, thank Merlin, Snape wouldn't need to recount it all blow by blow to Lupin. However, Lupin was overflowing with excitement when Snape called him with the mirror after the task was completed.

"Yes, I heard it, but I want you to tell me Severus! Describe how Harry flew for me!"

"You are a doting fool, Remus."

"Yes, I am, Severus. I saw him fly last year. He was terrific. Just like James, but faster! Please describe it for me, my love. Tell me how you saw it. You know I love to hear your voice."

 _Buttering me up, like I would fall for that!_ Snape thought with wry amusement. _Why not?_ Lupin was sometimes like an excited child. If he wanted melodrama – then Snape would provide it for him for no better reason than to make Lupin smile, because he adored Lupin's smile."Well then," he said mellifluously, propping the mirror up on his table, settling in his chair with a glass of Firewhiskey swilling in his hand, "the other three champions had finished, with varying degrees of success. Only Potter remained. The spectators were thoroughly worked into a frenzy..."

"Were you, Severus?" Lupin asked, grinning. "In a frenzy?"

"Certainly not," Snape drawled, as he raised an eyebrow with mock severity. "In the scheme of magical showmanship, our three champions were ... shall we say ... pedestrian at best. But a crowd makes for adrenaline and spectacle. So ... out came Potter ..."

"Will you call him Harry for me?" Lupin asked gently.

"No. Don't start this interrupting idiocy again!" Snape said, staring at Lupin intensely.

Lupin nodded, but was still smiling.

"So, out came Potter. He looked ... I have to say ... small." Snape's face became thoughtful at this. Perhaps it was the very direct nature of the threat that made him think so. It was the only time he had thought Potter looked vulnerable in all the time he had known him. The moment passed.

" **And there was the Horntail, at the other end of the enclosure, crouched low over her clutch of eggs, her wings half-furled, her evil, yellow eyes upon him, a monstrous, scaly, black lizard, thrashing her spiked tail, heaving yard-long gouge marks in the hard ground. ...** Potter **raised his wand.** We all wondered what feat of magic he would perform. We had seen Diggory transfigure a rock into a dog – creditable but almost suicidal when the dragon lost interest in the mutt, and Diggory was injured. The girl had entranced the dragon relatively successfully, until it snored and flamed her clothes!" Snape snorted at the recollection, which appealed to his rather mordant sense of humour. "Krum's Conjunctivitis charm was poorly cast – hurt the dragon and she crushed some of her eggs. It had been relatively lacklustre. How would the Boy Who Lived perform?" he drawled sarcastically, as Lupin rolled his eyes and laughed softly at Snape's sarcastic recollection.

"Well you know what he did. You heard the commentary. But, I can tell you, I was aghast when he cried, " ** _Accio Firebolt!_ " **A first year Summoning charm for that damn broomstick! We were breathless. Oh, the sheer cheek of it! The Quidditch player using his Quidditch skills!" Snape was laughing softly now. "Remus, I would dearly like to be scornful, but it was a stroke of brilliance. The dragon is chained, of course the child will be able to circumvent her – he is a Seeker." Then Snape's face became very serious – he was thinking. "It was such a stroke of genius that I don't believe Potter thought of it himself." He said definitely and quietly. Before Lupin could ask why, Snape recommenced his narrative, leaning to the mirror, lowering his voice to maintain suspense.

"Then, we all **heard it, speeding through the air ... his Firebolt hurtling toward him around the edge of the woods, soaring into the enclosure, and stopping dead in midair beside him, waiting for him to mount. The crowd was making even more noise. He ... kicked off from the ground. And he soared upward ...** high above the clamour of the spectators and you knew ... just looking at him you knew ... **This was just another Quidditch match, that was all… and that Horntail was just another opposing team."** Snape surprised himself how much he realised he had attuned himself to the boy during the task. He knew the truth of what he had just said. He smiled at Lupin, as if he were just embellishing for his sake.

"We saw him hovering above the clutch of eggs, assessing his trajectory then he **dived. The Horntail's head followed him; he ... pulled out of the dive just in time; a jet of fire had been released exactly where he would have been had he not swerved away."**

"And that's when Bagman yelled, " **Great Scott, he can fly! Are you watching this, Mr. Krum?"** " Lupin interjected excitedly.

Snape nodded indulgently. "Potter **soared higher in a circle; the Horntail was still following his progress; its head revolving on its long neck –** making it dizzy but didn't do it long enough to frustrate the animal and make it flame – clever boy," Snape said, almost to himself. Then he brightened, "Then Potter **plummeted just as the Horntail opened its mouth, but this time he was less lucky - he missed the flames, but the tail came whipping up to meet him instead, and as he swerved to the left, one of the long spikes grazed his shoulder, ripping his robes!** The spectators were screaming and groaning, **but the cut didn't seem to be deep.**

" **Now he zoomed around the back of the Horntail. The Horntail didn't seem to want to take off, she was too protective of her eggs. Though she writhed and twisted, furling and unfurling her wings and keeping those fearsome yellow eyes on** Potter **, she was** clearly **afraid to move too far from them."** Snape's voice had become low and urgent, and Lupin was mesmerised.

"Potter **began to fly, first this way, then the other, not near enough to make her breathe fire to stave him off, but still posing a sufficient threat to ensure she kept her eyes on him. Her head swayed** following him **, her fangs bared. He flew higher. The Horntail's head rose with him, her neck now stretched to its fullest extent, still swaying, like a snake before its charmer.** Potter **rose a few more feet, and she let out a roar of exasperation."** Lupin's eyes widened at Snape's description of the enraged animal.

"It was obvious that he **was like a fly she was longing to swat; her tail thrashed again, but he was too high to reach now… She shot fire into the air, which he dodged… Her jaws opened wide. She reared, spreading her great, black, leathery wings at last, as wide as those of a small airplane - and** Potter **dived."** Snape's narrative had sped up now, and Lupin was leaning forward into the mirror, not taking his eyes from Snape.

"In an instant, b **efore the dragon knew what he had done, or where he had disappeared to, he was speeding toward the ground, toward the eggs now unprotected by her clawed front legs - he had taken his hands off his Firebolt - he had seized the golden egg – And with a huge spurt of speed, he was off, he was soaring out over the stands, the heavy egg safely under his uninjured arm.** The crowd went beserk. Potter had done it." Snape said with finality and sat back, looking at Lupin's rapt face with some satisfaction.

"Marvellous, Severus! That was excellent! Like a Master Storywright." Lupin sat back, grinning hugely. "Well, here's to Harry, and his successful first task," Lupin said, raising his glass of Firewhiskey.

Snape raised his glass to his lover, rather than to the child in question. They both drank deeply. The Lupin exhaled heavily.

"I do have some news," Lupin said. "Sirius spoke to Harry before the first task. Sirius thinks Karkaroff is responsible. What do you think of that theory?"

"Igor Karkaroff is a coward. I know him of old. The Dark Lord would have had to have declared not only his return, but his total forgiveness of Igor before Igor would support him again and prejudice the comfortable life he has now." Snape shook his head. "No, I don't think he's responsible," Snape said firmly.

"Sirius also mentioned to me that a Ministry witch has gone missing. A witch who knew about the plans for the Triwizard Tournament. Do you remember Bertha Jorkins? A couple of years above us?"

"I do. A complete dunderhead," Snape snorted, dismissively.

"Unkind, but yes. Well, she went missing in the summer ... in Albania. ..." Lupin allowed the words to hang in the air. Snape closed his eyes slowly. He and Lupin had to be right. They just had to be. Too much was connected.

"So ... I think we can assume that is how the Dark Lord came by his information," Snape said softly, his mind starting to work very fast indeed. Moody, he knew the key was Moody. _But how and what were the intervening steps to his possession?_ "If the Dark Lord got the information from Bertha Jorkins – and that would be simple enough with a witless fool like she was, how ... how did he get to Moody?" He drummed his fingers on his table trying to help himself to think.

"He has help – he must have help. Probably, that blasted Pettigrew is with him. There's nowhere else for him to go." He heard Lupin curse under his breath. "It's still such a stretch to possessing Moody. Moody's a powerful wizard – it won't have been easy." Snape continued to drill his fingers on the table percussively. _The Dark Lord possesses greater ingenuity than anyone; he would find a way._ His reverie was interrupted by Lupin.

"Sirius also mentioned that Alastor had intruders the night before he was due to go to Hogwarts. I saw that in _The Prophet_ but Harry confirmed it to Sirius – Arthur Weasley heard about it. I wondered if that was perhaps when ... you know ... Alastor might have been got at by Voldemort. Have you thought anymore on the casting?"

"I have. It's a question of the appropriate moment."

"I know Alastor well. At least, I believe I do. He has foe glasses, secrecy sensors, sneakoscopes, all manner of detectors. You won't be able to sneak up on him. How will you cast it?"

"I was going to cast the revealing incantation at the first opportunity. But you are right. I need to be more circumspect. I think I have the kernel of an idea but I'll need to work on it. That said, if I disappear and all that's found is a heap of ashes, you may tell Albus that I have discovered the Dark Lord is teaching Defence against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts." Snape smiled his small, tight smile, but Lupin didn't smile. He looked worried.

"Lie with me, Severus."

* * *

Snape had scoured the library, but could not find what he wanted. He just needed to know for sure. It had been worrying him. Then the thought struck him: Poppy.

It was a difficult conversation to start, although why, when Poppy knew everything down to Lupin's Claim on Snape, he did not know. He wondered how other people could be so at ease with others knowing about their lives, when he just could not be. So, he asked her, in his stiff and stilted manner, if she had a proper medical text for werewolves. On receiving her confirmation, he awkwardly told her how he needed to learn to care for Lupin at the transformations and just in case they were not near a Healer ...

"... and I wondered if..." Snape said, quickly to cover his embarrassment.

"... you could borrow it? Of course, Severus. It's a splendid idea as you're ... well. It's a splendid idea," she said firmly. She went to her small library, and found it. It was a compendious, leather-bound tome – _Grey's Complete Lycanthrope – 78th Edition_.

"I don't know if it's been updated since I got this. It's old now. Albus ordered it to help me when Remus joined the school. Of course, it doesn't cover Wolfsbane, but I don't believe there have been any other advances, so you're very welcome to it, Severus." Poppy handed him the hefty book as if passing a torch. Perhaps, in a way, she was, having cared so carefully for the boy for so many years.

* * *

He sat down with the book, and a glass of Firewhiskey. He was due to call Lupin in an hour, but that should be just enough time to check on what Lupin had told him.

There were several chapters on mating, breeding, the Wolf's Kiss was even covered. (Snape felt vaguely green that Poppy should even know of it.) He flicked through them all impatiently and then he saw it: a photographic plate of a pregnant man. A very heavily pregnant man. He drew his hand over his face. He felt ill. Lupin had sworn he wouldn't. He had sworn to him. But Snape was disturbed that it was even a possibility. He had subjugated himself so completely to Lupin – hungrily, willingly, and lovingly. Would he end up like this for that weakness? The man in the photograph looked down and then stroked his pregnant belly in the manner of all pregnant women. He looked proud. Snape shook his head. It was the ultimate degradation in his mind. Imagine the shame – the laughter – the jibes. It could not be borne. It must not happen.

He looked at the diagram in the next plate. A cross section of a man's torso, but with a womb and a foetus gestating. _But how? Remus said he could make a womb. Make a womb! How was it possible?_ He drank his Firewhiskey and refilled his glass before he read.

_The male werewolf sometimes chooses as its mate a male werewolf or wizard. This mating is as strong as male/female mating. The male werewolf can take any beta female in the pack if he chooses and impregnate her instead, but most werewolves choose their alpha mates for the purpose of breeding. When the mating is very strong, the werewolf male may choose to procreate with his male mate._

_The werewolf's saliva, as we have seen for various other Lycanthropic traits, such as its Claim and its Kiss, carries the very active and potent Lycanthropic curse. When applied to the male mate's umbilicus with intention, it creates a magical pathway to locate behind the bladder the magical womb for the impregnation of the male mate by the male werewolf._

_The werewolf male will find his mate's umbilicus highly attractive. It shares the same magical signature as the werewolf male's Claiming bites and the werewolf male's instincts to create the womb will be strong and difficult for him to resist. The creation of the pathway is powerfully erotic to both mates, its purpose to encourage through its eroticism the procreation of the species. The womb, once created, only lasts for the following procreative act and ritual. If there is no impregnation, the magical womb will dissipate._

_Unlike male/female procreation, the male mate does not create eggs for fertilisation within his body. An external charm is used over their combined essences to create the zygote for ritual implantation by the couple. The incantation must be intoned by the couple themselves, and cannot be conducted without the full consent of both mates nor can either mate be under the Imperius curse or any other form of coercion._

Well, now he knew now why Lupin was fascinated with his stomach. It was a drive, an urge, an instinct. Lupin wanted to make a womb in him. He could do that without Snape's consent, but could not make the child. At least Snape still had this control. He re-read that part of the chapter over and over. He didn't want a child by any method and he certainly didn't want to be pregnant. He needed to recognise if Lupin tried to do this. He knew he shouldn't feel this: it wasn't the trust he'd promised Lupin. But Snape was frightened of it – of losing possession of himself so completely.

* * *

It was very difficult to attempt a revealing casting over someone who had protected themselves against castings in the manner that Alastor Moody had in tandem with all manner of protective devices. Rather than casting a revealing charm, Snape worked a runic casting. It had taken him days to develop and then he cast the runes over the threshold of his own classroom. His classroom was his domain and Moody would not be able to undo the runes. He cast it wide enough so that any possession of a body by another wizard would be revealed.

He intended now to find a reason to ask Moody and Dumbledore to his classroom and all would be revealed.


	37. Articulated Fears

It was a bitterly cold day in Hogsmeade. Snape was in the Apothecary's ordering ingredients for his December brewing schedule. Now was the time to stock up for all the Potion remedies for the cold months ahead. As the old, stooped Apothecary collected all the different ingredients from around the shop, Snape idly perused the shelves, including the sections with seasonal additions for pet care and personal gifts.

His eyes stopped on a particular seasonal package. He briefly took in that there was no-one else around and quickly read the label. _Really? Surely not._ So taken was he by the idea, he did not see the Apothecary return.

"It's extraordinary what the youngsters get up to nowadays, isn't it, Professor Snape?" the old man commented nodding his head to one of the sections. "My Florence, blessed be her eternal rest, always said it was best to lie back and think of the twelve uses of dragon's blood," he wheezed a dusty laugh.

"Indeed," croaked Snape, unnerved that the Apothecary had shared such a great deal about himself in one sentence that Snape would have happily lived his whole life without knowing. He mentally made a note of the brand and owl order details, and continued ordering his school supplies.

* * *

Snape spent a long time explaining to Dumbledore his discussions with Lupin, and Miss Tonks's observations, as well as his last run-in with Moody.

"So you need me to arrange for Alastor to visit your classroom? Well, that is simple enough. I will ask him to search your class room and office."

Snape's brow furrowed. "Why on earth would you degrade me like that? It merely gives him fodder to continue to treat me badly, Albus!" Snape cried in annoyance. _Sometimes, Albus could be malicious, especially if challenged._

"Because I have already told you that I trust Alastor Moody, Severus, as much as I trust you," Dumbledore said firmly.

"And I do not believe that this man is Alastor Moody, Albus!" Snape shouted, then exhaled sharply and spoke in a more measured manner. "That is the point I am making. It is not about Alastor Moody's trustworthiness."

"Very well, Severus. However, it is still a plausible reason for Moody to enter your classroom and office. If you are right, then he will not think it is - as they say in the Muggle world – a set up," Dumbledore smiled at his own humour. "One evening this week then. Are there any detention nights that should be avoided?"

"Not as yet," Snape clipped in annoyance as he swept out of the Headmaster's study.

* * *

Moody didn't even try to suppress his manic glee as he limped heavily down the dungeon corridors, stabbing at the stone floor with his staff. Snape heard him approach and waited by his desk, his wand in hand, ready with a full body bind on his lips, and to call Dumbledore to exorcise the possessed man as soon as the possession was revealed.

He felt his pulse quicken and his heart rate sped up along with his breathing, and his adrenaline started to pump in anticipation of his vindication. He flexed is fingers repeatedly around his wand so they were not too tight.

Moody burst through Snape's doors, snarling, "Headmaster wants yer office searched, Snape! Surprised he hasn't asked me before, frankly," he growled as he marched heavily and unevenly through Snape's classroom, barging past Snape, to his office door.

Snape stared in horror at the threshold of the door. The runes were silent. They did not glow. Not even so much as a glimmer or a wink! He advanced on his own door slowly, his wand raised to check the runes, impervious to the ruckus in his office and Moody threw books, papers and parchments to the floor with impunity, growling and snarling as his continued search brought forth no revelations.

The runes were intact. Snape checked them again and again. He steadied himself on one had against one of the student desks and exhaled heavily. _Wrong, just plain wrong!_

"Don't ya want to keep an eye on me, Snape!" Moody hollered from his office. "I could be plantin' all manner of Dark materials in yer office." Moody barked an unpleasant laugh. Snape composed himself and went into the office to behold all of his papers strewn across the floor, with the students' parchments in disarray. He supposed he should be grateful that nothing was broken, including the students' phials of potions he had yet to check.

Moody stood there, both arms resting on his staff, his wand held loosely in his hand, both eyes boring into Snape, empty handed by clearly exultant in his power over Snape.

"Well, I can't find anything. I expect a werewolf's bitch like you is used to covering yer tracks. Ha! But I've got my eye on ya, Snape," Moody snarled malevolently. "You know it. My eye is never far from you." He pushed past Snape and stomped out of his office and classroom and Snape listened as his uneven tread eventually faded from his hearing.

Well, Dumbledore had his victory and Snape was humiliated once more. Snape slumped in his chair, his head in one hand, wondering how he had got it so very, very wrong.

* * *

The full moon was on the Sunday, one week before Christmas. Snape had made arrangements to join Lupin straight after breakfast and that they would spend two full days together, with Snape returning to the school after breakfast on the Tuesday for the run-up to Christmas.

They had met in the morning. It was in the morning that Lupin was weak, and Snape enjoyed his time taking care of him. They went for a gentle walk in the forest before lunch, and talked of the failed revelation casting and what it could mean.

"I know of no charm under which the Dark Lord could maintain Moody's appearance continuously. Possession was the only method that would work. Perhaps, you and I have to accept that Moody simply loathes me so much he would compromise his clearly long-held principles of tolerance and equality when it comes to me to ensure that I suffer. After all, I was a Death Eater. I am less than dirt to him," Snape said with as much equanimity as he could muster.

Lupin was subdued, and as they walked, he leant quite heavily on Snape as the moon drew on his bones and muscles. "I can't accept him treating you that way; not when I've known him for so many years. Even if he doesn't know who your mate is, I can't believe he would make both suffer so. It requires a malignancy of thought I don't ascribe to Alastor."

"' _It was once my job to think as Dark wizards do,'"_ Snape repeated to Lupin. "That is what Moody said to Karkaroff."

"Be that as it may, I still am uneasy with it," Lupin nodded and his mouth became a thin line of concern and resignation as they walked slowly back to their room. "It feels terribly wrong. After Christmas, when I come to see you, I will try to speak with him." Just before they reached the retreat building, Lupin stopped and looked about them.

"I want to transform in the forest, Severus," Lupin said quietly, his nose scenting the air delicately. "Can we do that? Together?"

"If you wish," Snape said quietly, fairly sure that an actual transformation in the forest would make the transformation less painful. More and more, Snape was coming to understand that the closer Lupin could be to the true nature of his curse, the less pain he had to endure. _How enticing that must be for the werewolf – was it surprising so many chose not to fetter themselves as Lupin had done, heroically, to Snape's mind?_

They settled back into their room and Snape had a light lunch although Lupin did not wish to eat anything. After lunch, Snape lay on the top of the bed with Lupin curled up next to him, with his head on Snape's midriff. At Lupin's suggestion, they were naked, although they did little more than caress each other lightly. Lupin fell asleep and Snape read a book Lupin had on curse-breaking, holding Lupin to him as he read.

Snape had wondered at what point the moon would fire Lupin's passion to overcome his weakened body. It was barely an hour. Lupin awoke, looking refreshed and strong and large, his grasp on Snape's waist suddenly strengthening. He took the book from Snape and drew himself over him to cover him. It was that sudden. In that instant, Snape was assailed by Lupin's overwhelming animal presence once more and he was taken wholly and completely in the bruising manner of the wolf that Snape yearned for.

* * *

Once their bodies settled down, and Snape had re-focused, they both dressed for the bitter December night. Snape took his pain relief potion and enlarged his broomstick. Lupin had asked to transform in the clearing. Snape mounted the broom, and Lupin sat behind him with his arms around his waist and his head resting on his back. Snape felt protective and powerful, as his mate shared his broom with him, _just like Lily used to all those years ago._

They flew gently through the giant pines, savouring the winter smells and sharp, crisp air, stinging their eyes and lungs, occasionally banking gently as Lupin directed Snape to his desired destination.

They arrived with a little time to spare. Lupin undressed quickly and Snape shrunk his clothes into a small parcel which he pocketed along with Lupin's wand and wrapped Lupin in the folds of his heavy woollen travelling cloak and then wrapped his own warm body around Lupin's shivering frame.

Snape felt the tug to his stomach but only released his own hold slightly on Lupin. His body didn't lose contact with Lupin's at all as he transformed but moved with him fluently. Lupin keened, but he did not scream. Snape felt as if every bone that broke did so against his skin, but with more of a fluttering than cracking, a more pliable and malleable contortion than before. _Could the forest make such a difference? Or was it the physical contact?_ He didn't know, but he knew it was far less horrific than before. Lupin's keening, became the whine of the wolf and then the howl that always followed. Not of pain this time. Snape knew it to be the triumph of a successful transformation.

As Lupin's wolf took shape and settled, Snape released his hold fully to sit before the wolf as it panted before Snape, staring directly into his eyes. The wolf stood on his hind legs, and placed its forepaws on Snape's shoulders and licked Snape's face happily, as if he were a pet and pushed him over.

"I will punish you as I would an errant pooch if you drool on me, Remus," Snape laughed as the wolf held him down, licking him happily. "A rolled up _Daily Prophet_? How about a training hex, hm? A nice collar?" Snape's smile was as broad as it had ever been at the antics of the wolf.

The wolf barked happily and skipped away from Snape, as if teasing him. He barked several times and then started to scent the air, as if catching something on the night air. The wolf barked again and howled to the moon. He was the first, followed by other wolves howling. The repeating chorus started and gradually decreased and then the wolf went to Snape and sat next to him to wait.

The crack of a twig alerted them. Snape looked to its direction suddenly, his wand raised and body poised to strike. The sound was wrong. The feeling was wrong. There were greedy eyes staring. He felt them. Felt the heat of them making the hairs on his body stand on end. The wolf was at his side in an instant, growling deeply, his hackles raised. There was a slight rustle in the trees. Lupin dived towards it, snarling savagely. Something flew away – something with a large wingspan but camouflaged by the trees and hidden from the moonlight. They both heard it, but it was gone now. Snape was left with a deep sense of unease, and the wolf stood arched and large, protectively next to him, snarling and growling deep in his throat at the place in the trees from whence the unknown thing fled, until the first of the other couples joined them.

* * *

Once the wolves had all chorused to the moon and greeted Lupin in their order of precedence, they all sat as they had previously, Snape lighting a fire and the human mates drawing near to talk.

Snape told them of the creature he had heard taking flight when challenged. It was Archimedes who gave him the answer.

"This is Romania, Severus. There are feral vampyrs in these forests. Not the civilised, educated and romantic vampyrs, beloved of pureblood salon parties. No, no – these are the Nosferatu – no better than their flying rodent namesake – they feed, and that is all they do. Be aware of them in this forest. Have your wand and wits about you!"

* * *

As before, when Lupin had tired of the other couples' company after a couple of hours, he called Snape to run in the moonlight, and they ran and flew together deeper into the forest than before, the wolf stopping to play and dance at Snape regularly, to howl at the moon and just to run until eventually he slowed and Snape understood that it was nearly time for moonset.

He flew down to the forest floor, and waited with the wolf for the tug to bring Lupin back to his human form. As with the night before, Snape felt and heard the difference in this reversion: gentler and less stressful on Lupin's body. As his human form set in the crystalline, bitterly cold fog of the morning, Snape wrapped Lupin to him in his cloak and, holding him tightly, Disapparated to the terrace of their room and then partially carried Lupin to the bed. Lupin held on to him, and whispered, "Don't let me go," so Snape rested them both on the bed, Lupin still curled around Snape's body under his cloak, and they slept until mid-morning.

Snape was awoken by a chill ghosting on his skin. Lupin had (he assumed by spellwork, given the lack of interruption in his sleep) undressed Snape as he had slept. He found himself quite naked, except for his travelling cloak, which was draped around them still as they lay facing each other and Lupin was kissing and caressing his neck and chest. It took Snape's breath away as his groin fired, as he delighted in Lupin's movements which showed he was supple and well. Snape sighed with contentment as Lupin's hands and mouth worked against his skin, setting it alight, as Snape's hands snaked into Lupin's hair as he ventured his head lower taking in Snape's stomach and hips languidly and lovingly until he reached Snape's fully hard cock. He licked it deliciously and then manoeuvred them both so he was underneath Snape and Snape straddled Lupin's body as Lupin licked down the length of Snape's erection,

"Why'm ... wearing .. my .. cloak?" he gasped, as every touch of Lupin's mouth shocked his shaft and body, so recently awoken. He felt Lupin's lips smile against his skin.

"I liked how safe and warm I felt with it wrapped around me, Severus," Lupin said breathily, "keep it on for me." Then he took the length of Snape's cock in his mouth, making Snape's breath hitch as he allowed Lupin to suck on him as Lupin's hands played at the base of it and around his balls, massaging him in time with his mouth and Snape's moans of pleasure, cloak forgotten, until Snape moved his hand down gently to stop Lupin, knowing he was too close and he wanted to be inside Lupin when he came.

Lupin moved himself back up the bed so he lay under Snape, who pushed Lupin's legs apart with his own, leaning in to kiss Lupin's mouth hungrily as he burned with desire he tried to suppress so he wouldn't rush, as Lupin raised himself on one elbow and flung the other around Snape's neck. As they kissed passionately and hard, Snape's hand found Lupin's opening, already slick with anticipation, and his fingers stroked and pushed into Lupin until he called out into Snape's mouth, and his head fell back in pleasure and Snape sucked greedily on Lupin's exposed neck still working his fingers so he could feel Lupin writhe wantonly beneath him.

Snape lowered himself, tucking his hands underneath Lupin's backside to cant his hips and then Lupin wrapped his legs high around Snape's waist as he aligned himself with Lupin's opening, his cock aching to penetrate Lupin's body, throbbing with his desire to possess him. He circled the tip of his erection as he watched Lupin's face, open in its longing and delight, circled until Lupin begged, "Please, Severus, please!" and pushed in to the sound of Lupin's extended moan lasting the length of Snape's deliciously slow entry into Lupin's slick, tight channel that made Snape's whole groin burn with such intensity as he embedded himself inside and Lupin's back arched, his muscles tightening on Snape further, making him gasp with want.

He stopped to steady himself, so close was he to exploding as his whole body thrummed with the heat of his desire for Lupin. He stared at Lupin's face as he rolled gently into Lupin, eliciting small sighs and gasps to fall from Lupin's lips, Lupin's eyes only leaving his when they fluttered back with pleasure as Snape's hips increased their pace and depth. He found Lupin's sweet spot quickly and, on Lupin's first cry, he drove to that place alone so make him call out incessantly what he most wanted to hear, his own cock now feeling raw with shredded nerves from the friction of Snape's pace and Lupin's tautness around him. Desperate to come, but desperate to hear Lupin cry out which made Snape harder still, he drove harder and faster against Lupin's prostate as he watched in a hot, red fug of thick and sweet desire the man writhe, and twist one grasping hand in his sheets as the other grabbed his own cock to pace in time with Snape's thrusts, and buck against him, his body now glistening with sweat and face contorting with need as he begged Snape to take him harder.

That was too much for Snape's control and he pitched into Lupin hard, barely able to control his own breathing, just wanting both of them to feel this pitch of nerve-shredding heat and passion as they bucked against each other wildly, their names loudly on each other's lips, until Snape could feel Lupin clenching mightily against him and his cry became hoarse and delirious as he came hard over his stomach, and Snape was overcome by his own fierce orgasm tearing from him straight after, pulsing hard into Lupin as he could hold himself up no more and sagged his full weight onto Lupin, both struggling to breathe as the cloak enveloped them both.

They slept again under the cloak until mid-afternoon, both ravenous on waking.

A late lunch served, the waitress left them and they found they much to discuss, the main topic being Lupin's remarkable transformations. Easier than they had ever been, less pain and greater strength. Snape told him that he thought transforming in the forest had played its part – being true to the nature of the curse.

"I am sure it is due to you in no small way, Severus," Lupin said, placing a gentle hand on Snape's knee. "Having a mate as loving and passionate as you, who accepts my own nature so well and in ways I never thought possible – I think that must be part of it."

Snape coloured a little, and smiled. "It is probably all these things, and having a job where you do not need to dissemble and even fellow civilised werewolves with whom to commune at the full moon. It must all be part for you: an acceptance that you've never fully had."

Lupin nodded and smiled hugely at Snape and kissed him deeply as his hand ran under the bathrobe Snape wore tracing his navel. Snape jolted away as if shocked and then recovered himself.

"What's the matter, Severus?" Lupin's brow furrowed with concern at the reaction. "Did I hurt you?"

"Nothing, it's nothing," Snape muttered, realising why he flinched and cursing himself for it.

"Please, Severus. Tell me what I've done," Lupin moved slightly away, looking upset. "You flinched from me. Why?" His voice had the tone of quiet horror.

"I'm being foolish. Nothing more, Remus. Please let's not discuss it." But Lupin didn't take his eyes from Snape, and he saw very real distress in his lover's eyes that he had in some way hurt him. Snape stood and went to the French windows and looked out. "I have been concerned about what you told me – that a werewolf can impregnate its male mate. It is foolish – and the foolishness is mine, I know." He looked at Lupin beseeching him to understand. "I researched it. I know you can't inflict it on me, but ... I ..." _Oh why couldn't he articulate this fear – this subservience that he always struggled against but could never fully throw off and the fear that as soon as one fetter broke, another took its place._

Lupin followed him and then, shockingly, slowly fell to his knees before Snape and wrapped his arms around Snape's hips, his forehead resting against his stomach.

"The fault is mine, Severus. I have gradually allowed more and more of my lupine traits to the fore because we seemed to bound each other so well. I cannot deny that my health and wellbeing have been the better for it: my transformations are bearable for the first time in my life; my mind and body are settled and I am truly happy." Snape thought there was a sob in Lupin's voice. _Oh, what have I done?_

"But I have been selfish to allow it." Lupin said quietly. "I have allowed too much of the wolf to be known and now you fear me. Had I reigned in my nature and not Claimed you, you would not be fearful of me like this and flinch from my touch. It is my fault." Lupin looked wretched.

"No!" Snape said forcefully, and held Lupin's face up to his. "Never say you should not have Claimed me. Never say it!" He dropped to his knees then and they pressed their foreheads together, their arms around each other. "Everything is right and well, Remus. I am truly happy too, as I've never been. I beg you not to regret Claiming me or how much better things have become for you."

"I cannot bear it if you fear me, Severus. Not fear," Lupin said, his voice haunted and low. "Not like you used to when you thought of me as a monster."

"No, Remus. Please. I'm sorry. It's not a fear of you. It's my own fear – please." Snape couldn't look at Lupin now. He couldn't believe what his unfounded fear had done.

"What do you fear?" Lupin asked, trying to look at Snape's downcast face.

Snape found it difficult to speak, difficult to articulate the fear, even though the words were simple. They stuck in his throat as an admission of weakness. "I can't even abide Moody's taunts - they make me sick to my stomach. Imagine being made pregnant. How much worse it would be ... laughed at ... humiliated ... trapped ..." His voice was strangulated with all the emotion he was starting to feel. As he knelt there, he could feel the humiliation he would feel and how it crawled over his flesh; feel the suffocation of subservience; of imprisonment creeping back on him.

"I swore to you, but more than that, it's not possible without your desiring it, Severus. Do you understand," Lupin whispered insistently, "just – not – possible. I don't have the power to entrap you. I don't want to trap you or imprison you. I only want you if you want me," Lupin said gently, stroking Snape's downcast face. "And if, by some joint madness, we did choose it, you and me, no-one would laugh at us." He kissed the bridge of Snape's nose. "No-one."

Snape looked directly at Lupin again, and they kissed gently, and Snape took Lupin's hand and placed it back on his stomach with his finger tips on Snape's navel, and whispered, "I'm sorry. I am foolish."

"No, Severus," Lupin whispered, as he caressed Snape's stomach. "Not foolish. Just scarred."


	38. Yule

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes from chapter 23 of GoF are in bold and © J.K. Rowling.

It didn't matter how he looked at it; no matter how rational he tried to be: he hated Christmas. He hated snow. Rather, he hated children who played in the snow and who thought – albeit it remarkably briefly once they caught sight of his face – that it might be remotely _amusing_ to throw a snow ball in his general direction.

He hated the icicles he and the other members of staff had spent hours Conjuring in delicate and filigreed patterns over the marble staircase. He hated the giant Christmas trees that he, Pomona and Filius had painstakingly trimmed. But what he really hated ... to almost Dickensian proportions of seasonal misanthropy ... were rose bushes with fairy lights.

He hated Dumbledore for putting him in charge of the rose garden and fairy light project for the Yule Ball. The man must surely hate him with a passion. Yes, he knew he was _artistic_ and _had a gift_ for creating perfectly proportioned things but that didn't mean these tasks should always fall to him! He hated Moody for telling Hagrid that it took "a proper fairy to trim the fairy lights so _prettily_." _Bastard._ Hagrid had shrugged and looked apologetically at Snape as Snape continued to place the fairies at the tip of his wand as if he hadn't heard. Moody wouldn't find Hagrid a willing participant in his games. Hagrid may have looked daunting, but his soul had always been gentle.

Sooner or later, there would have to be a reckoning for Moody. It was a shame, Snape sometimes caught himself thinking, that he had allied himself to Dumbledore. If he had not, he would be free to hex Moody's balls off – and he would, given half the chance. _Please Merlin, give me that chance!_

No! It was no good. He couldn't fight it any longer: he was furious that he had been wrong about Moody being possessed. He was angry with himself and his whole mood was sour. He had to put up with the man's jibes all the time, and there was no point in telling Dumbledore now. He had made it clear that he trusted Moody over Snape, no matter what.

On top of that, even though he'd only left Lupin a couple of days before, he missed him dreadfully. All the time. The mirror just wasn't enough for Snape. He was physically and mentally frustrated as hell. Dumbledore had ensured Snape could get to Lupin for each full moon, but had insisted Snape be at school for the Yule Ball. Snape had wanted to meet Lupin away from school for the couple of days they had together from Boxing Day, but Dumbledore insisted that, as Head of House, he had to stay at the school even then. Of course, Lupin could stay with him, but it meant they couldn't take their meals together and Snape would be on call, and that just made Snape cross.

Oh, _and_ he had a schoolful of teenagers, hormones rampaging and bitchiness overflowing all leading up to this blasted Yule Ball. Insults and hexes would be thrown; tears would be shed; virginities lost (although not if he found the miscreants first). It was just a shame, in Snape's opinion, that heads would not roll.

He huffed angrily and glared balefully at all passersby as he strode back to his quarters. If only he could contract Dragonpox and recover miraculously on Boxing Day.

* * *

It was Christmas Day. He had seen Lupin in the mirror in the morning before breakfast. They had wished each other a Merry Christmas and recalled last year's extraordinary events with the wolf. They had lain down together to please each other but Snape wished he didn't have to wait until tomorrow to be with him. He realised his feelings for Lupin never seemed to reach a plateau: he always wanted more and Lupin was always on his mind.

"I wish you were going to be at this insufferable Ball tonight," Snape said, his temper worsening. "At least I'd have someone intelligent with whom to talk."

"If I were, would you dance with me?" Lupin said, his eyebrows raised, clearly waiting for the insult.

"Certainly not," Snape drawled. "Why would you want to?" He wasn't joking. He couldn't begin to understand why Lupin would want to dance, with or without him. He'd never danced, and he wasn't going to start now.

"Oh Severus," Lupin smiled. "Please don't tell me you don't dance or that you won't dance. I insist you save me a dance for tomorrow."

"No," said Snape petulantly, feeling vaguely cross that had Lupin chuckled softly. Lily used to want him to dance with her when they were young. It was his only experience of dancing. In her bedroom, she had a small record player, and would play her 7 inch singles: New Seekers, the Jackson 5 and Donny Osmond were her favourites at that age. He didn't like many of the records she and Petunia used to play and dance to, and he certainly wouldn't dance to them! Lily's taste in music improved as she got older, but those weekends of him sitting on her bed, smiling at their daft dancing in her bedroom, didn't last once they'd come to Hogwarts but he remembered them clearly, and always with a small, private smile.

* * *

There were surely better ways of spending Christmas Day than all the staff Conjuring small tables, lit with lanterns, and covering the walls with silver frost and hanging with mistletoe and ivy garlands, but clearly not in Albus Dumbledore's mind. The staff spent most of their day preparing for the Ball, and then suddenly, it was upon them.

He stood in the receiving line of staff and dignitaries, stiff and formal, in his best woollen robe as the champions and their partners entered the Great Hall, surveying the ridiculously preening champions, bored witless before the Ball had even started.

_The Veela and the Quidditch Captain – how desperate of the girl, hardly an inspired choice._

_Young Diggory and Miss Chang – two Seekers – could anything be more banal?_ And then he thought: _Potter and Miss Chang – possibly that would have been more dull._

 _Well now – this is interesting – the international Quidditch player has chosen none other than our very own insufferable know-it-all extraordinaire, Miss Granger. Not a beauty (Poppy had done a good job on her teeth though, Snape noted with satisfaction) nor a socialite. Did this mean there was more to Viktor Krum than met the eye? Or was he looking for fresh pickings? Hmmmm._ Snape would watch him carefully. He knew his type of old and what they were after. Miss Granger was still a child after all. _Well, not on my patrol of the rose bushes, Mr. Krum._

 _Potter and Miss Patil. It wasn't even worthy of comment, except Potter was clearly petrified by the prospect of dancing._ Snape smirked at the boy's obvious discomfiture.

He looked about himself for anything of more interest. Weasley looked appalling in some misbegotten hand-me-down robes and looked stricken at his fate. Never let it be said that Snape had softened, but he felt a small twinge of sympathy. He remembered that feeling all too well. Diametrically opposed, young Malfoy, in robes that cost more than Snape's entire wardrobe and a positively ghastly frothily pink Miss Parkinson. Were they betrothed? Snape couldn't recall. His resident cretins followed, Goyle and Crabbe, _sans_ partners. He snorted softly. Only a pureblood arranged betrothal would get partners for those two lummoxes. Unlike Mr Zabini, a Lucius Malfoy in the making, surely, Snape thought, taking in the good looks and cool confidence borne of generations of inbreeding and privilege. Of course, Snape knew that at Zabini Manor there would doubtless be, locked in a tower somewhere, a sibling with a hunchback, three legs and the head of an ant, but at least there was one sound (for this generation, at least) heir.

He spoke to Poppy, Minerva and Pomona for a while, and then Sinistra and Vector. He watched Hagrid advancing upon Madame Maxime with some interest but she floated away on a rather large cloud of lavender silk. He sighed heavily. It was going to be a lengthy night. Dinner was next and then he had volunteered ( _with alacrity_ ) to patrol after the champions' dance so at least he would be spared _the band._

But such time alone that Snape thought he might have to enjoy thwarting the amorous intentions of the hormonally overflowing student body was rudely shattered as Karkaroff came after him.

"Severus, you keep avoiding me," he said, challengingly, matching Snape stride-for-stride.

"Not at all," Snape said briskly as he stalked around the grounds on patrol, his wand lit.

"Why don't you stop then and talk to me?" Karkaroff said, his jaw jutting as he grabbed Snape's upper arm. Snape shook it off, angrily.

"What do you want to say, Igor?" Snape spat, standing still, straight and affronted by the touch.

"You must have noticed it?" Karkaroff said, his voice dropping to a hoarse whisper.

"What? Spit it out, man! What do you want to say?" Snape jibed angrily, fed up with Karkaroff's presence.

"The Mark," Karkaroff spat. "It is darker."

"And ...?" Snape said, off hand, and recommenced his patrol, and started blasting at the rose bushes he had Conjured, sending two seventh years flying. "Ten points from Gryffindor, Dawkins, and ten points from Hufflepuff, Atkinson! Button up your robe, Atkinson!" he barked at the fleeing youths.

"He strengthens. You know that." Karkaroff said, pulling on Snape's arm again. "It's darkened since we arrived here. I don't think this is a safe place to be. We will be easy targets, Severus!" Karkaroff was sounding desperate now.

"It doesn't matter. I just **don't see what there is to fuss about, Igor."** Snape blasted another bush, thinking how much he would be enjoying this if Karkaroff would just go way.

" **Severus, you cannot pretend this isn't happening!" Karkaroff's voice sounded anxious and hushed, as though keen not to be overheard. "It's been getting clearer and clearer for months. I am becoming seriously concerned, I can't deny it -"**

" **Then flee," said Snape curtly. "Flee - I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts."**

 **Snape** continued **blasting rosebushes apart,** looking for miscreants, feeling unseasonal and **most ill-natured. Squeals issued from many of the bushes, and dark shapes emerged from them.**

" **Ten points from Ravenclaw, Fawcett!" Snape snarled as a girl ran past him. "And ten points from Hufflepuff too, Stebbins!" as a boy went rushing after her.**

" **And what are you two doing?" he added,** as he caught sight of Potter and Weasley **on the path ahead.** Snape noted that **Karkaroff looked slightly discomposed to see the** boys **standing there and his hand went nervously to his goatee, and he began winding it around his finger.**

" **We're walking. Not against the law, is it?"** the Weasley brat cheeked Snape.

" **Keep walking, then!" Snape snarled, and he brushed past them, his long black cloak billowing out behind him** but Karkaroff still followed him like a bad smell.

"He will find you at Hogwarts if you remain," Karkaroff whispered urgently.

"Yes, he will find me if he returns. This is where I will be," Snape said resolutely. "I will not run and I will not hide. I am no coward, Igor," Snape sneered at Karkaroff, and turned to walk away again.

"That depends on yer point of view," growled Moody, who was blocking the path in front of them, leaning on his staff. "Well, isn't this cosy? Two little Death Eaters together in the rose garden."

"Why don't you keep your nose out of other people's business, Mad-Eye!" Karkaroff spat with vehemence.

"Death Eaters who get off scot-free are my business, Karkaroff. I will watch. I will wait. Yer time will come and I will be there to see it," Moody snarled, his natural eye alight with something like fervour. Snape didn't care what anyone else thought: Moody was quite unhinged and nothing would dissuade him from that.

"There will be nothing for you to see. The Wizengamot has already dealt with me. Nothing more will come of it!" Karkaroff pulled his shoulders back with defiance and stalked away.

"We shall see, Karkaroff, we shall see," Moody shouted after Karkaroff. "And you, Snape," Moody turned his malicious gaze on Snape. "Dumbledore can't protect you forever," he growled deeply, for Snape's ears only. "He may not even want to any more, if yer ask me," he chuckled deeply.

"I don't have to listen to this from you, Moody," Snape clipped and went to walk past Moody who snatched Snape's left forearm, the tips of his strong fingers digging into the Mark painfully, and curled his upper lip.

"Don'cha? You know Albus won't defend you from me. You know it now..." Moody voice was a vicious whisper. He leant in to Snape. "Does yer wolf know yer out for a stroll with another lying Death Eater in the _moonlight_ , Snape?" Moody laughed unpleasantly as his magical eye swivelled to the neck bite, then he let go of Snape and trudged off heavily.

Snape stood still, his jaw working in his barely suppressed anger, a vein throbbing uncomfortably in his temple. He couldn't deny it. Dumbledore had made it crystal clear, had he not, that Moody was unquestioned. He had humiliated Snape for Moody. Moody was continually humiliating Snape. It could well be that he had outlived his usefulness to Dumbledore. He looked at his left forearm. But he hadn't, had he? This darkening meant something. No, he didn't believe he'd outlived his usefulness yet ... not just yet.

However, he had not been exonerated as Lucius had. He had not bartered for his freedom as Igor had. He was only free, or what passed for an approximation of freedom, because Dumbledore vouched for him. Dumbledore only had to retract that and Snape would be in Azkaban. He might not even have a trial, like Black. Merlin knew what poison Moody was drip feeding Dumbledore.

Snape inhaled the frigid air deeply. When he was with Lupin, he forgot what he was. He forgot the nature of servitude he owed to Dumbledore. Lupin made him feel so alive! Made him feel as if there was something he had to live for: for them to be together. For the first time in many years, Snape realised he had something tangible to lose. Moody could cost him everything: his life, his freedom and his love. His resentment and anger burned in his gut and he strode from the grounds to await the end of the Ball when he could retire to his rooms.

Snape stormed into his room. _What a travesty of a night! Bloody Moody! Blasted Dumbledore!_ He often wondered if Dumbledore kept him at Hogwarts for the sole purpose of tormenting him. He had especially wondered that this year. If it weren't for his vow ... _And the Devil take Karkaroff and the Dark Lord!_

He slammed his heavy door and Summoned several glasses and smashed them against the wall one by one. "You bastard!" he yelled to no-one in his drawing room, just for the release of shouting.

He threw himself down in his chair by the fireplace, lit the fire and Summoned his bottle of Firewhiskey, his mood as black as his furrowed eye brows. He couldn't even call Lupin through the mirror to vent or release because he was travelling. At least, he was travelling to see him. Snape's shoulders slumped. He wished he was here now. Things never seemed too bad when Lupin was with him.

"What did I do?" said a soft, amused voice from the doorway to his bedroom. Snape sprang to his feet with wand at the ready. _Remus?_ Lupin was lounging against the door frame, his hands in the pockets of his trousers, and that was all he wore.

"I arranged it with Poppy. Thought I'd surprise you," he said as he walked towards Snape, who put his wand back and stood, hands limp at his sides as his anger subsided and ebbed as he watched Lupin's smile broadening. "Not quite the Christmas greeting I was hoping for, Severus," he said, as he reached Snape and placed his hands on Snape's hips.

"You're the best Christmas present I could have," Snape said, and took Lupin's face in his hands and kissed him deeply.

"Didn't enjoy the ball then?" Lupin said lightly, as Snape released him.

"Bloody farce," Snape snarled and then the last of his agitation slipped away unnoticed. This was why he was bad tempered: because he wanted this too much.

"Want to tell me?" Lupin smiled the smile that always flipped Snape's stomach, as he pulled Snape to him and pressed his hands to Snape's backside.

"Not right now, no," Snape sighed as he started to kiss Lupin's neck.

"Nevertheless, Severus, tell me while we have a night cap, then I get to unwrap my present," he smiled as he nuzzled Snape's neck and played with the buttons on Snape's robe.

"Very well," Snape sighed and Summoned two glasses, as Lupin Vanished the broken glass from the floor and Snape removed his robe and boots.

Snape sat in his usual chair, and Lupin sat on the floor between his legs, stroking his thigh as Snape stroked Lupin's hair and told him of the events of the day. Lupin listened intently, commenting very little.

"No, don't tell me to tell Albus. There's just no point, Remus. No point at all," Snape said.

"I'm going to invite Alastor to the Hog's Head for a drink. See how he behaves," Lupin said firmly.

"Well, good luck to you on that," Snape replied shortly, his mouth a thin line. "I don't want to think of Moody now." Lupin stood and held his hands out to Snape, who stood too.

"Dance with me, Severus," Lupin said, taking Snape in his arms lightly.

"Don't be ridiculous," Snape snipped, moving to push Lupin's arms way but Lupin did not let him go, his arms still around his waist.

"Dance with me, as my Christmas wish," he murmured as strains of soft music could be heard. Snape thought he recognised it. Old time, big band music. He strained to hear it and it became a little louder although still no more than ghost-like strains, just playing at his consciousness.

Lupin swayed very gently, resting his forehead against Snape's. Snape had never danced before but he could see Lupin would not let him go. He put his arms around Lupin's neck and let Lupin guide his hips with his hands and he moved his feet to mirror Lupin's. In truth, it was not unpleasant and after a minute or so, he was relaxed and was quite enjoying the soft and gentle motion. As the music came to its close, he recalled it. "Glen Miller?" he asked.

"Moonlight Serenade," Lupin responded. The music finished, and Lupin kissed Snape. "Thank you, Severus."

Snape took Lupin's hand, only stopping to pick up one of three wrapped presents from his table, as Lupin picked up the Firewhiskey, and they went to the bedroom.

They undressed and Snape gave Lupin this particular present. Lupin tore the wrapping paper off and gave a small gasp and a throaty chuckle and then stared at the large jar he'd pulled from its box with a huge grin. Snape blushed uncomfortably.

"I don't believe you bought this in a shop!" Lupin exclaimed.

"I didn't," Snape said, still rather pink. "Owl order." With that, and to regain the initiative, Snape climbed over Lupin's body so that he straddled Lupin's hips trapping Lupin's cock underneath him.

Lupin laughed with delight and undid the jar and moved them both further up the bed so Lupin's back rested against the headboard.

"I can't believe you thought of this! Are you ready to be my human platter, Severus?" Lupin said, his voice deeper, his cock hardening under Snape's backside.

"I have no doubt I will enjoy it as much as you," Snape smirked wickedly, already hard as he squirmed on Lupin's cock, making him gasp and slowly close his eyes and then smile as he removed the lid of the jar and took the small spreading knife from the box and began to paint Snape's neck, chest and shoulders, deliberately slowly and gently with the chocolate body paint as Snape's hands followed Lupin's, his skin prickling to the sensation everywhere the cold mixture touched him. Then languidly Lupin swirled his tongue to lick every bit of it from Snape's skin, making him sigh at the gentle touches of Lupin's tongue as Snape ran his fingers through Lupin's hair and stroked his shoulders and back.

Lupin recharged the spreader and painted Snape's stomach and, cradling Snape's back with one arm, pushed Snape back so he could bend his face in to swirl his tongue all over the chocolate he had placed there, Snape softly moaning now, wishing the touches were stronger. Opening his own legs, Lupin pushed Snape back fully so Snape laid on his back between Lupin's legs and Lupin spread chocolate along Snape's inner thighs, this time swirling his tongue and then sucking on Snape's thighs, grasping them in his hands, so Snape groaned as heat banked hotter and hotter in his groin at the more insistent touch.

Lupin found the jar again and coated Snape's aching cock very liberally with the chocolate spread. Snape doubted he could last much longer, he had been tantalised so much. When Lupin's licked at the tip of his cock, it was all he could do not to push himself into Lupin's mouth to come, he was so desperate for release now. Lupin looked at him, Snape knew from his look he knew what he was doing to him. Lupin smiled on Snape's cock and slowed to long, firm draws of his tongue up and down Snape's shaft to catch all the chocolate as well as drive Snape wild, and his fingers had started working deep now into Snape, finding his prostate and making him groan deeply and his vision swim with pleasure.

Snape could feel himself starting to lose control as his orgasm built, as his breathing became erratic and his hips bucked into Lupin's mouth and then Lupin started to suck him greedily and hummed against him, encouraging him to move. Snape thrust his own hips, as Lupin sucked him hard and played his prostate until Snape could no longer hold back the crest of his orgasm and came fiercely into Lupin's throat with a hoarse cry and shudder and Lupin gently sucked and squeezed to drain him.

Lupin slid further up the bed and bent in to kiss Snape.

"That can't possibly go with chocolate," Snape said, barely able to catch his breath.

"The taste of you and chocolate: my two favourites. One day, mark my words, salt added to chocolate will be a delicacy, Severus," Lupin smiled at Snape, who was both appalled and amused.

Lupin gently moved in between his legs, spreading them wide and entered Snape's slick, well prepared muscles full length with a low moan. Snape stretched his arms above him, at once relaxed and excited, to hold the headrest, all his tension and annoyance now drained away as he pushed himself onto Lupin for more friction. As his arms moved, he found the jar, almost empty. He wiped his long fingers in the jar to catch the last remnants and as Lupin thrust gently, Snape put his chocolate covered fingers to Lupin's mouth and watched with mounting pleasure as Lupin caught and sucked each finger laguidly, before licking and kissing the open palm of Snape's hand and up his arm until he was kissing his neck as Snape wrapped his legs high around Lupin's waist and bucked back against him hungrily. Lupin had kept himself in check for too long and Snape could feel Lupin was very near and he bucked against him hard, taking Lupin's breath away as he moaned loudly, hardening Snape once again with hot, thick desire.

Lupin gave up trying to be tender and held Snape's hips hard and they thrust against each other, becoming more slick and breathless with each thrust, Snape's moaning becoming more urgent as he clutched at the headboard for further purchase, and Lupin grasped his cock to pump him. They were erratic in their thrusting and finally Snape could hold on no longer and cried out as he came again, and Lupin followed immediately, calling Snape's name, then breathily fell to Snape's side.

"Merry Christmas, Remus," Snape said gently, holding the exhausted werewolf.

* * *

They had woken early and Snape had given Lupin his "proper" Christmas gifts. One was a fine woollen robe, in royal blue with matching trousers for which Lupin kissed him deeply, the other was a handsome forest green leather and gold bound book of Lupin's published research papers. Lupin turned it over and over in his hands, looking nothing short of astounded.

"But Severus," he whispered in awe, "how did you ever find and collate them all?" He flicked through the tome looking at all the articles he had published world-wide on Dark creatures, whether acknowledged or anonymously.

"It did take some doing, I admit," Snape said, touched by Lupin's obvious pleasure, "but I can be ... ah ... tenacious." Lupin smiled at him hugely and kissed his forehead, still turning the book over in his hands, his eyes shining. Then he reached down next to himself and brought up a parcel and presented it to Snape, seemingly with some trepidation.

Snape unwrapped it and found an ornately carved wooden casket. He looked questioningly at Lupin who just smiled. He opened the casket to find it opulently lined, and nestled in the lining two smooth, golden arm circlets – mirror forms of each other. He carefully picked them both out of the casket and held them up to look at them. Tiny runes were etched into each – he would need his magnifying glass to read them. His breath was short. He thought he might know what these were, _but how could it be_?

"What are they?" Snape asked, still turning them over in the light.

"Agathonian circlets," Lupin said.

Snape looked witheringly at Lupin with one raised eye brow. "And ...?" as he waited for a proper explanation.

"Ancient Greek male bonding circlets ..."

"But ..."

"Listen to me, Severus. Agathon was a poet and runaway slave. He had a lover, Pausanias, who was a free man of Athens. They wanted to bond, but the temples said they could not without the master's approval, who would, of course, never give it. They asked the pagan earth gods to accept their offering of love and bless their bonding and offered each other these circlets as an outward sign of their soul bond. The earth gods blessed them and the bond took."

"You're saying it will work for us even with this?" Snape asked softly, gesturing to his left forearm.

Lupin nodded, "If it's meant to be ... and at least I don't have to find whatever's left of Voldemort to ask for your hand!" Snape rolled his eyes and Lupin beamed at Snape. "I just have to ask you."

"Bond with me ...?" Snape whispered as he looked at and felt the smooth gold circlets in his hands. They had talked about it last summer. He had thought it couldn't be done. Then, he had nearly ruined everything at the last full moon when he'd nearly pushed Lupin to renouncing his Claim because Snape was afraid – of what? A hypothesis. And yet Lupin had found these – a way to soul bond with a man who was not only the blood slave of a madman but who was also under a geas to another powerful wizard. If he bonded with Lupin, there could surely be nothing left of his body or soul that wasn't bonded one way of another. He wasn't sure what it said about him, but this time it would not be for power, revenge or respect; it would not be for atonement or redemption or fear. This was for nothing more or less than his love of Remus Lupin.

"Do you still want this, Severus? Will you bond with me?" Lupin asked, his face earnest and hopeful, holding both of Snape's hands.

Snape moved to sit closer to Lupin and leant his head against Lupin's shoulder as they wrapped their arms around each other. "Nothing would make me happier," he said softly, feeling his body relax and soften as he heard Lupin exhale the breath he had obviously been holding and they kissed tenderly.

* * *

They lay together in front of the fire, both glistening from their love-making, languidly stroking each other. Lupin had taken Snape as gently and tenderly as he had ever done, as slowly as it was possible and the tenderness and slowness of it had felt so deep to Snape that he had felt as if he would burst with rapture when they finally came together. Lupin would be his. A soul bond could only be broken by treachery. Lupin was no traitor and he could never betray Lupin. His heart would not leave his throat.

"How did you find them?" Snape asked, never taking his eyes from Lupin.

"Actually," Lupin said lightly, "it was Bill who told me about them." Concern flickered over Snape's face, and Lupin squeezed his side gently. "Bill knows you are my mate, Severus. He's not a gossip." Snape nodded, feeling slightly foolish. Of course, Bill Weasley would know. He'd made arrangements for them every month, after all. "When he found out you were my mate, he realised what he'd done with the counter-casting and he came to me to ask if he had hurt you. I explained what happened with your core but that we were able to heal you. Anyway, that's how we came to discuss our relationship. I told him I am very much in love with you," Snape closed his eyes to savour that sentence and that anyone could admit to such feeling for him to another. Lupin squeezed him again. A year ago, Snape could not have envisaged being anything less than furious and outraged had Lupin had discussed their intimate relationship with anyone at all. Now, he was absurdly proud that Lupin would tell someone he was in love with him. And how could he be cross, when Weasley had found this ... treasure?

"He asked if we would bond eventually. Of course, we thought it wasn't possible and, as Bill knew you had been a Death Eater, I told him why. Well, some weeks later, Bill came to me and asked if I'd heard of Agathonian bonding. I hadn't. He said he had a vague recollection of some trove he'd recovered in his early days at Gringotts when he was training in Greece and that one of the rarities recovered were Agathonian circlets. They were for male couples, one of whom was not a free man. He went look back in the records, and his recollection was right and they were still held in Gringotts' trove room. So I acquired them for us, hoping you still wanted it as much as I do." Snape leant in to Lupin to kiss him and stroke his face.

"Being Ancient Greek, either of us is free to take a wife, you'll be pleased to know, Severus, and that does not break the bond," Lupin said lightly with a playful smile.

Snape snorted. _How Lucius would approve –"for the look of the thing!"_ He didn't need to worry about the look of the thing. The look of him with Lupin was all he cared for. If the bonding took, they would register it with the Ministry and then Lupin could live with him here, just as he had hoped. The Ministry could not deny Snape's right to live with his bonded soul mate, even though Lupin was a werewolf.

All they had to do now was to make plans for their future – their future together.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pausanias (recorded circa 420 BC) was an Athenian and recorded as the lover of the poet Agathon (who was not a slave). I have used them because they were one of the few recorded examples of equality in a male relationship in Ancient Greece.


	39. Plans & Measurements

Lupin sent a letter to Moody to invite him to the Hog's Head for a drink as he was in Hogsmeade briefly and it would be good to catch up with an old friend. Owl despatched (by way of hiding that Lupin was already in the school), they fell to discussing their more urgent business.

They had spent some time discussing when they would undertake the bonding ceremony and where. Lupin suggested the summer, perhaps in Athens itself, and he would take Snape on a grand tour of the magical places of antiquity for their honeymoon. As much as he loved the idea, Snape couldn't help it: he felt a sense of foreboding; he felt it very deeply – if they left it until summer, it wouldn't happen. Something – _something nameless_ – would prevent it.

"I don't want to delay," he said firmly, holding Lupin's hand.

"Then let's not," Lupin said, his face wreathed in smiles. "It can't happen soon enough for me."

"Have you been to a bonding before?" Snape asked, with interest.

"Just once: James and Lily bonded," Lupin said simply.

"I didn't know," Snape responded quietly. The knowledge took him aback. He had thought Lily had married James in an ordinary marriage ceremony; he hadn't known they had soul bonded. This must have meant that James was more worthy than Snape had ever dreamt, because he certainly knew the value of Lily's soul and it could not have been bonded to someone of mean spirit. He would have to examine this knowledge more closely another time.

"It's always charged with a small frisson of doubt, I understand – will the bond take? If the souls are not worthy of each other, the bond will fail," Lupin said. "Is that true?"

"Yes, it's true. Bonding ceremonies were always preferred to ordinary marriage ceremonies in pureblood circles, so I shouldn't be surprised that Potter had one. I've been to many. Some didn't work." Snape smirked unpleasantly. "It was quite amusing to watch the _happy couple_ blame each other!"

"Do you worry that ours will fail, Severus?" Lupin asked frankly.

"No, I believe we are a perfect fit." Snape cupped Lupin's face in his hands as he said this - he had absolute confidence, in a way that he even surprised himself. Lupin was clearly delighted.

"So, are we having a society bonding, Severus?" Lupin said with amusement. "Will all your pureblood, Slytherin friends be invited?"

"No more than your Gryffindor friends. It's no-one's business but ours. All that matters to me is us, but we need a bonder. Please don't suggest Black and I won't suggest Malfoy!" Snape said witheringly, but with a smile so Lupin wouldn't be offended.

"Albus?" Lupin said gently.

"If he'll agree," Snape said, wondering if Dumbledore would agree but not for any reason Lupin might suspect. Lupin knew nothing of Snape's vow and, try as he might, Snape couldn't find it in himself to confess it to Lupin: to confess his very large part in the death of Lily, for it was his eternal shame.

* * *

Snape felt decidedly idiotic, even though it was clear that Lupin was over the moon. If he had allowed it, he had no doubt Lupin would be holding his hand at this instant whilst he was telling Dumbledore excitedly of their plans to bond.

Dumbledore twinkled. _Obviously._ Why was he even surprised? Dumbledore clapped his hands together once, and then shook both men by the hand. He sat then, looking for all the world as if a very tiring task had been accomplished by himself personally, and he was well pleased with the result. He asked to see the circlets and Lupin showed them to him with pride.

"So rare ... from the time of Agathon himself ..." Dumbledore murmured as he held one up to catch the weak winter sunlight. "You know, they become more filigreed as love accretes to them? Quite extraordinary ancient deep magic." He smiled at both men. "I would be more than honoured to be your bonder. When and where? Will we have a large party?" Dumbledore looked at Lupin, "Or will we conduct your nuptials in greatest secrecy?" he looked to Snape, with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Lupin laughed. "We don't want a large party, Albus. We think we've waited long enough ... been through so much ... we just wish to be bonded," he said simply and quietly and looked lovingly at Snape, who found himself quite touched. "Ideally, as soon as possible. We'd like the ceremony at Cadr Idris if you'll permit it," Lupin asked Dumbledore as he smiled at Snape, who nodded his perfect agreement.

"New year is always an auspicious time," Dumbledore suggested, smiling at them both. "By chance, it falls this coming weekend, so we will be able to get you a few days to yourself before your respective duties call you back to life's humdrum existence," he said wistfully.

Lupin restrained himself no longer and he grabbed and squeezed Snape's hand. Snape smiled fondly at Lupin's exuberance, still surpised and delighted to find himself the object of it.

"As bonder, I certify your bonding ceremony in case you wish to register your bonding at the Ministry. You know that the Ministry must recognise your bonding with all the attendant legal rights that brings."

"We do wish to register it, Albus," Snape said firmly. "I want Remus to be able to live with me here."

"Yes, yes," Dumbledore nodded, gently fingering his beard. He then peered over his glasses at them both. "Might I request a favour, please?"

"Of course, Albus," Lupin said; Snape would rather have heard what the favour entailed first and inwardly sighed at Lupin's trusting nature.

"Might I suggest you wait until the end of summer term to register your bonding? Once term has finished, the parents will have the entire summer holiday to send howlers to me to vent any misgivings about Remus living in the school, without disrupting the school. By the start of the new school year, I'm sure any fuss will have subsided. I'm sorry to bring it up but, people being what they are ..." Dumbledore gave a small shrug and let the unfinished sentence hang in the air.

"Well, I still have the contract with Gringotts to run," Lupin said with a sigh, "so I suppose it makes sense. It's only six months," Lupin smiled at Snape, who wasn't sure he agreed at all, but he tried to be sanguine. _They would be bonded anyway – what difference could six months possibly make in waiting to register?_

* * *

Snape stood on the measuring dias in front of Madame Malkin feeling like a perfect prat. How had he let Lupin talk him into this, he couldn't fathom. Well, he could. He recalled perfectly now he thought about it.

Barely had they returned to Snape's quarters from speaking to Dumbledore, than Lupin had pressed himself onto Snape in the drawing room, murmuring his love as he deftly undressed Snape, pushing him onto his favourite chair, clearly very aroused as he almost smothered Snape with kisses and loving touches, firing Snape's desire immediately as Snape undressed Lupin.

Lupin turned Snape onto his front quickly in front of the chair he'd been pressed against, so unusual in itself it took Snape's breath away. Lupin pressed his weight against Snape's back and sucked his back, shoulders and neck and Snape gasped at the nerve-tingling sensations. Then moving slightly to one side, Lupin began to stroke inside Snape, lightly but insistently, until Snape started to moan as Lupin stroked his prostate and then he pushed his cock gently into Snape, and starting kissing his neck again, gradually building his rhythm. Snape listened to Lupin's soft moans of his love and of Snape's name as his fingers began to caress Snape's torso gently and tenderly, adding to the hot sensations already accumulating in him.

Snape looked over his shoulder at Lupin waiting until Lupin was withdrawing, and then pushed back hard onto him making them both gasp and now hot, thick desire flooded over Snape. Lupin's eyes snapped open and he leaned forward to kiss the side of Snape's face repeatedly then groaning more as he started rolling into Snape. Then he grabbed him underneath his pelvis to raise him up onto his hands and knees, spreading his legs so he could plunge in more fully, finally making Snape cry out in pleasure. They were both too excited now as Lupin grasped Snape's own erection tightly to pace in time making hm moan almost constantly, holding his hip with the other hand, and moaning his name over and over again. Snape arched his back so he could feel Lupin's cock even deeper and in time with Lupin moved back onto him repeatedly, the pulsing waves of pleasure washing over him, as colours burst behind his tightly closed eyes, until he came fiercely under Lupin's hand, followed quickly by Lupin himself crying out hoarsely and falling forward onto Snape's back, both panting hard. Snape lowered them both onto the floor.

"You will be my husband soon," Lupin said breathily, as he kissed the side of Snape's face and moved himself to Snape's side and caressed Snape's waist and hips. Snape drew his own fingers along Lupin's chest. "I can scarcely believe it. At the end of this week..." Lupin smiled at Snape ravishingly. He suddenly raised himself on one elbow, his eyes widening.

"What will we wear?" he said urgently and sprang to his feet and went to the bedroom wardrobe.

"Remus!" Snape chided as he got to his feet and followed him into the bedroom. "You're not serious!" Snape was horrified. "You're not a blushing bride you know," he rolled his eyes as Lupin grabbed each one of Snape's robes, looking unimpressed. "And nor am I! My clothes are perfectly serviceable," he barked.

"You really do only have black! I was convinced there would be something - anything - just one garment – oh, I don't know –maybe just a cravat - forest green or midnight blue! All black," Lupin was muttering. He turned and looked at Snape, who was now sitting on the bed watching Lupin's mock despair with amusement.

"Yes, and all my shirts are white and white only," Snape said firmly.

"You bought me a beautiful robe and trousers. So I shall have a waistcoat made for the trousers, and you need a new waistcoat and trousers too," Lupin said, once he'd finished rifling through Snape's wardrobe. "It can be black, if you absolutely insist, but not one of these old severe ones, Severus." Lupin looked exasperated. "It _is_ our bonding." Then he leant forward. "It should be something new - and handsome, like its wearer," he whispered seductively, and he sat next to Snape on the bed and wrapped his arms around Snape's waist and kissed him.

And here he was - standing on a measuring dias, like some ridiculous popinjay, being asked what side he "dressed", for Merlin's sake!

As Madame Malkin measured, he thought that perhaps Lupin had been right. After all, it was their bonding and it would be New Year's Eve on top of a Welsh mountain – they could hardly be bare-chested. And Snape did have a number of bites that he would really rather Dumbledore did not see, so a waistcoat made good sense. Their upper arms needed to be bare for the circlets. It was unfortunate his Dark Mark – his brand - would also be visible. Another good reason that it should only be themselves and Dumbledore.

"So, tapered and buttoned trousers, sir, and the waistcoat – double fronted, with buttons to the left hand side of the chest. And what about the collar, sir?" Madame Malkin asked, her charmed quill annotating her sketches as Snape considered what would cover his bites.

"A Mandarin high collar, if you please," Snape said.

"And will it be black, sir?" Madame Malkin queried, suspecting she knew the answer.

"Midnight blue," Snape replied, with a small smile at the seamstress's look of surprise and thinking how it would complement the colour of the robe and trousers he had bought for Lupin.

* * *

Snape had been to dinner in the Great Hall, and then played chess with Minerva. She'd trounced him quite soundly, best of three, which Snape took as a sign of his preoccupation with how Lupin's evening at the pub was going with Moody. That said, an evening with Minerva was always a good opportunity to sample her stunning collection of malt whiskies and her acerbic wit.

It was half past ten before Snape got back to his quarters, and called for a pot of tea to await Lupin's return from the pub. When he did, he returned by Floo. He looked distressed and unwell.

"Tell me, Remus, what has happened?" Snape said, as he took Lupin's travelling cloak and scarf, and Lupin threw off his robe and boots to sit before the fire and then accepted a large mug of tea from Snape gratefully.

"Oh Severus," Lupin said unhappily. "I certainly did find out more than I ever wanted to know." He sighed heavily. "I don't think I can do it justice really. Why don't you look at the memory and tell me what you think?"

Snape was stunned at the suggestion. "You will let me?" Snape whispered. He had to confess to himself, he had not thought Lupin would let him enter his mind with the ease he had prior to that full moon when he had hurt him. He had only done it once since then, and that was to heal what he had damaged.

"Severus, you will be my husband in two days. Of course, I will let you. Besides, I don't think I can explain it well enough. I need you to see for yourself." Lupin grasped Snape's hand and squeezed.

Snape held Lupin's face gently as they gazed into each other's eyes and he whispered as he pointed his wand, " _Legilimens."_

Lupin's mind. Snape felt his own joy at being permitted to access it again. He also felt Lupin's pleasure, welcoming him back. For a while, they sat there, just basking in the intimacy of Snape immersing himself in the warmth and comfort of Lupin's mind. It was so emotional, he almost lost sight of his purpose.

"Sorry, Remus," he thought sheepishly, when he recalled.

"Not at all," Lupin thought, and there was his reverberating chuckle that Snape enjoyed so physically when he was in Lupin's mind.

They were in the Hog's Head, as dingy as ever, straw over dusty floorboards and grime encrusting the windows.

"Nice to see ya, laddie, nice to see ya," Moody said gruffly, but amiably, slapping Lupin roughly on the back and resuming propping himself up at the bar and ordering Lupin a drink from Aberforth. Aberforth grunted an acknowledgement that at least one of them would be purchasing a drink, gesturing, none too politely, at Moody's flask.

They passed over an hour with the most ordinary pleasantries, laughing over some old times from the first wizarding war and remembering the fallen. Then Lupin described to Moody the type of work he was doing for Gringotts. Moody seemed interested and knowledgeable when Lupin described the types of curses they came across and the composition of the teams required to break some of the more complex curses. _It was clear Moody was Lupin's friend. Listen to how easily they talked. Clearly they conversed easily, with a shared history._ Moody regaled him with an assortment of stories of training would-be Aurors since his retirement. Lupin was going to mention Tonks, but something – something indefinable – stopped him. _"I don't know why I didn't," Lupin thought to Snape._

Lupin told Moody he was in Hogsmeade to see friends and obviously had heard Moody was teaching Defence at Hogwarts and wondered how he was enjoying it, and what he thought of the Triwizard Cup. Moody's face became serious and took on a somewhat sympathetic cast.

"Terrible thing to happen to ya last year, terrible thing! Children talk about yer still – liked ya as a teacher. That's a real gift, a real gift indeed," Moody said, shaking his head slowly in commiseration.

"Not the first time I've been run out of town, Alastor, you know that," Lupin said sagely.

"First time your secret was spilled for the world's consumption though, eh," Moody said roughly. "I heard it was that Death Eater – Snape! Ruined your reputation in the wizarding world. That man is scum!" Moody spat.

_Snape could feel Lupin was taken aback, confused that Moody knew; wondering if this was the reason for Moody's increased dislike of Snape, beyond his Death Eater history. Snape felt himself start to despair. He had not been reminded of this for so long. Perhaps he did deserve what Moody had been doing to him._

"I think, in fairness, Alastor, it was a little more complicated than that." _Was it though? Snape felt Lupin's discomfort. How do you explain his own behaviour without the Mind Break? Snape didn't think it could be done. "_ Albus has told you about Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black, hasn't he?"

"Aye," Moody said, nodding slowly.

"I left the castle without taking my Wolfsbane Potion; I was unsafe. I endangered everyone around me. I left to find Sirius and Peter. Severus didn't know about Peter – he just thought I was helping Sirius into the castle to kill Harry. He didn't see the return of Peter, and then Sirius escaped." Lupin shrugged. "So, he let the nature of my condition slip to ensure I couldn't stay – he genuinely believed I was dangerous." _Snape knew this was a lie; he felt Lupin's discomfort again repeating it._ "Perhaps, I don't blame him." Lupin smiled his small self-effacing smile. _Snape felt renewed shame because he knew that Lupin didn't blame him. But he should._

"Humph," Moody grunted roughly. "Don't even know why you would stick up for such a twisted wizard as that one. Well, what would you think if I told you that that very man who ruined your reputation has a werewolf lover of his own? Hey? What do you think of that?" Moody slammed the dirty bar with his fist and looked triumphant, grinning grostesquely with that damaged slash of a mouth, nodding slowly as Lupin's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish.

_Lupin's confusion was palpably thick. Moody didn't know Snape was Lupin's mate. Snape thought that must be a positive thing – at least he was not trying to hurt Lupin. He felt Lupin wrestling whether to tell Moody but what followed decided him against it and Snape understood why._

"This _man_ , ha!" a harsh, sarcastic bark of derisive laughter was accompanied by a stamp of his staff on the floor as he warmed to his topic, "if you can call such a deviant a man who serves another man like a wench, was in the inner circle of Death Eaters! He wasn't lower ranks, laddie, not a bit of it! A high ranking Death Eater."

_Lupin's stomach lurched. Snape could feel it. Lupin had never known of Moody's antipathy to male relationships. Why would he? It was something they had never discussed. Certainly, there was no reason for Moody to have known of Lupin's own inclinations._

"Now, I'm not saying other Death Eaters weren't that way inclined either," Moody swayed, his mouth turning down with distaste, "there were certainly many of that _tendency_ , amongst other perversions, and they indulged themselves fully, I can tell ya." Moody shook his grey mane slowly, clearly relishing his thoughts. "I would very much like to imagine what real blood purist Death Eaters would do to one of their own who has become submissive to a dog werewolf though."

_Snape felt Lupin flinch inwardly and a wave of nausea wash over him. Snape could feel Lupin's sense of betrayal in his old friend at the surfacing of that age-old pureblood prejudice against werewolves._

Moody took a greedy swig from his flask, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "What I'd really like to know though is: who is it? Not Greyback surely, or one of those evil-smelling feral buggers. That would be a turn up for our Professor Snape. Always acting like he's got a poker up his arse - well now we know what he does have up his arse don't we? Just a bitch to a rank wolf." He nudged Lupin in the ribs. "No offence, laddie. But it won't be as if there are many clean and educated lycans like you, will it?

_Of course, Lupin was "different". How often had Lupin heard that? "All werewolves are dangerous or dirty or murderous. Of course, you're different." Snape felt Lupin's increasing distress at this turn of events._

"But who? I'd dearly like to know." Moody as good as snarled in his throat. "Then I could really make Snape pay – him and his dog. Pay like all of his kind should pay." Moody turned his ruined face to Lupin fully, his natural eye glittering with unfettered malice as he hissed through gritted teeth: "I hate Death Eaters who have walked free, laddie."

_Snape felt Lupin's stomach churning in misery. He could feel Lupin wanted to hex Moody into next week for harbouring all these foul thoughts, and hiding them from him for all these years, let alone his hatred of his mate. But information was necessary, so he felt Lupin swallow the bile of anger and continue to try to be friendly. "We'll make a spy of you yet, Remus," Snape thought._

"Albus trusts him, Alastor. He says he has good reason to trust him, and that's why he vouched for him and secured his release," Lupin proffered.

"Does he now, does he indeed? Well, Albus, is a trusting soul, but I know better. Do men like Snape change? They do not, sir! No, Snape can never be trusted, or Karkaroff, for that matter. The castle is riddled with Death Eaters who escaped justice. Well, not forever ... their time is coming." Moody's eye flickered with naked hatred. "Constant vigilance! That's what's required with men like him."

oooOOOooo

"There's not much after that, Severus," Lupin thought. "But one thing – I don't know if you can experience it – can you smell Moody as I do?"

Snape found the sense memory Lupin was directing him to.

"Yes, I have it." If he'd had a physical nose, he would have wrinkled it.

"Now here is my older memory ..."

"Very different. The older memory is more ... organic, natural – an old man smell," Snape gave a snort, "but natural. The new smell ... it's off ... I can't quite put my finger on it yet."

"That's what I thought. I was rather relying on your Potions expertise to identify it. My sense of smell differentiates it, knows it's changed, but I can't quite identify how."

"A different soap. Well, just soap really – the older smell was a stranger to soap, that's for sure," Snape thought wryly. "The soap is very heavy smelling – yes, I've smelt that on him – coal tar soap. But I think I can just detect ... iron ... yes, definitely iron ... fluxweed ... there's more ... there's definitely more." Snape spent some time trying to unravel the different smells, "antimony ... aghh ... " but eventually, he gave up. "Dammit – there's just too much of that appalling soap. That's all I can get."

Snape slipped gently out of Lupin's mind and still holding Lupin's face, kissed him gently and held him close.

"Well, all of that was pretty unpleasant to hear, Severus. But perhaps we've been mistaking plain, unadulterated hatred, as if that isn't bad enough, for something more ominous," Lupin said sadly.

"Perhaps you are right. I very much don't want him to find out you're my mate, Remus. I just don't think he can be trusted," Snape said quietly, noting just how sad Lupin was at his discovery of Moody's hatred of Lupin's nature. But still he wondered. It didn't sit right - not with everything else. He didn't think they had the true measure of Moody yet.

He would still keep a watchful eye on Alastor Moody.

.


	40. On Bonding

It had clearly played on Lupin's mind, distressed him even. He had told Dumbledore of his meeting with Moody and begged him not to tell Moody of his and Snape's impending bonding, lest Moody take it on himself to ruin it in some way. Oddly, Lupin's clear distress did seem to impact on Dumbledore who professed himself disturbed for never having known of this antipathy before. Was something like this really just never mentioned between them? Snape wondered. They were, after all, very old friends.

Nevertheless, Dumbledore reassured Lupin he would not tell Moody of their plans, and, indeed, with Snape as the other bonding partner, would not dream of any type of announcement at all.

It struck Snape as revealing that Dumbledore took Lupin's distress so seriously, yet his own concerns had been swatted away like an insect of annoyance, even with some disdain. Not just Moody, but other matters of concern to Snape too. He recalled quite clearly how, after the Yule Ball, he had told Dumbledore of his conversation with Karkaroff about their darkening Marks, but Dumbledore had been quite dismissive saying he could make that connection without Snape's assistance. It had hardly been surprising Snape had been in such a foul mood after the Ball. Their Marks were darkening, Potter's scar had been hurting, he wasn't convinced Moody was sane or possibly even Moody at all! And yet it was as nothing to Albus Dumbledore. Only Lupin seemed to give Snape credence.

"Perhaps we'll have to rely on the curse of the Defence against the Dark Arts post to finish him off," Lupin quipped. "It seems quite efficient in this respect."

"As long as it doesn't take any students with him..." Snape retorted darkly.

* * *

It was three in the morning, and sleep had eluded Snape. Snape surprised himself that he could be so nervous. He did not consider himself fanciful at all but this night he was plagued by nightmares.

 _Remus and Severus stand before Albus, on the dias of Madame Malkin's boutique. They are confident and happy, laughing together. They are wearing matching waistcoats of golden brocade._ (Really, thinks Snape, I don't think so, in the way of dreaming minds.) _All the staff of Hogwarts are there in their wedding best robes, even Filch and Mrs. Norris. Hagrid has his hair in bunches, and Remus and Severus are startled by that, but look!_

_Some Hogwarts ghosts are there, the Bloody Baron and Nearly Headless Nick to represent their Houses and Professor Binns too. Over to the right are the rest of the Marauders and Lily, and Harry is sitting on her lap. But he's 14, and in his Triwizard champion clothes. Remus and Severus comment that it's odd, but look!_

_There is Regulus, Avery, Nott, Mulciber, the Black sisters, all three of them – and we haven't seen them together for a long time, Remus comments to Severus, who agrees, and look!_

_There's Lucius Malfoy, with Cissy (but wasn't she over there with her sisters?) and Draco. Tonks and David, Amelie and Jasper, and Archimedes and Jonathan are there too. Interesting, it's not full moon, but the werewolves are in their wolf form, and very fine they look too, but look!_

_There's the whole Weasley family and the twins appear to be ushering the other guests. Remus and Severus wonder if they requested that, but look! It's not Fred and George, it's Fabian and Gideon, and Remus and Severus welcome them back heartily._

_Albus begins the ceremony. It is a beautiful day, and the sun dapples on the happy couple. They place the circlets around each other's upper arm. Dark clouds roll across the sun and the atmosphere tenses in the heavy foreboding manner of dreams._

_Moody stomps up to the dias, stabbing the floor with his staff, and rips away the collar of Snape's waistcoat to reveal his bite to the assembled company. "Look at the pert bitch," he shouts. The Slytherins laugh, and Black, Remus's friend, laughs, and they all cat call and jeer and Snape feels the heat of humiliation crawling under his skin._

Snape thrashed awake and steadied his breathing, swearing under his breath, but soon settled down to sleep again.

_Albus begins the ceremony. It is a beautiful day, and the sun dapples on the happy couple. They place the circlets around each other's upper arm. Dark clouds roll across the sun and the atmosphere tenses in the heavy foreboding manner of dreams._

" _But, dear heart, you are my little half-blood," Lucius purrs as he stands next to Snape wearing the gold brocade instead of Remus, and pulls Snape into an unforgiving and harsh embrace that he cannot shake loose because suddenly he is only a teenager and much smaller, and that moulds and forms into Lucius forcing Severus onto his knees in front of the assembled onlookers, who jeer and cat call and cheer Lucius on as he forces himself onto Severus. "It's been such a long time, my darling little half-blood," Lucius sneers and he yanks on Severus's hair, as he used to, as he thrusts. The pain spreads outwards, but look!_

_A large shape, a huge wolf with flashing red eyes, growling, snarling and slavering, spittle spraying from its cruel teeth and jaws bounds towards Severus, and tears out Lucius's throat, arterial blood spraying over the guests before leaving him torn and splayed on the floor, and then turns on Severus. He hears Remus's voice, "if another man touches you, I will know and I will not be forgiving. To either of you," as it leaps to rip out his throat..._

Snape sat bolt upright in his bed, his breathing fast and his eyes wide as he cast them around himself wildly. _The blood. The fear._ His heart was hammering in his chest. He had known it was a dream and that the wolf would kill him but it had taken him so long to wake up. He quickly looked at Lupin, who was oblivious to it all. He drank some water and then tried some meditation for a while to calm his breathing and gradually drifted off to sleep once more.

_Albus begins the ceremony. It is a beautiful day, and the sun dapples on the happy couple. They place the circlets around each other's upper arm. Dark clouds roll across the sun and the atmosphere tenses in the heavy foreboding manner of dreams._

_The Dark Mark burns!_

_It burns deeply and harshly!_

_Snape folds over and tries to swallow his gasp of pain and the gold of the circlet becomes molten and runs down his arm leaving searing agony in its traces. All the other Death Eaters are doubled over in pain too. The Dark Lord stands tall and rejuvenated amongst them. "I do not consent," his high, sibilant voice rings out to Severus, "Crucio!" and as Severus starts to scream and fall, the Dark Lord turns on Remus, who pushes Snape behind him and has drawn his wand, but too late, "AVADA KED.."_

Snape awoke with a cry, drenched in sweat, barely able to breathe, his chest constricted in terror. Real, abject terror. That voice again. So near. So real. _Remus!_

He turned to look at Lupin, who was sleeping the sleep of the innocent, even a small smile playing on his lips. Snape watched Lupin sleep for a long time, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest and trying to regulate his own breathing in time with him. Eventually, his breath steadied. He wanted to stroke Lupin's hair and his face, but didn't want to wake him, so eventually he got out of bed, found an old grey nightshirt at the bottom of a drawer and padded to the drawing room to call for a camomile tea to relax himself, but his mind was frantic.

He slumped in his chair by the fire, tea in hand, his mouth resting against the other hand, staring into middle space.

He feared nothing so much as the return of the Dark Lord. That the Dark Lord had been in this school, Snape's home, possessing Quirrell for the school year had shaken Snape severely. He had, until that point, believed that the Dark Lord would never be able to set foot here with Dumbledore alive, and that this would be one place Snape could be safe. But he had.

The following year, a revenant of the Dark Lord had almost regained his form by draining Miss Weasley of her very life force. Now the Mark was darkening. His other fears – humiliation, violence, Moody, even that side of Lupin that could freeze his blood that he had seen but once – they were all as nothing compared with the thought of the Dark's Lord's return.

If the Dark Lord returned, he had no doubt that Dumbledore would send him back. But he wasn't a Death Eater anymore. He did not want to plot the genocide of Muggles and magical creatures. He did not want to torture, maim and kill Muggle-borns or those who did not agree with blood purity. He certainly didn't want to torment and kill werewolves for sport. He didn't want to use his intelligence and skill to create curses and potions as Dark weapons for the Dark Lord to inflict pain and terror. He couldn't deny that he done all of this once. He'd done it with a will – with purpose – with relish. He had thought it a deserving and worthy cause. He had been embittered and twisted by his unhappy life so he had been a zealot for the Dark Lord. But not anymore. None of it anymore.

He had made a wizard's solemn vow to Dumbledore that he would do anything Dumbledore asked in Lily's memory and to keep her boy safe, and he was bound by that vow. It had been nearly fourteen years since Snape had stood before the Dark Lord, the man who held his blood bond and who had punished, tortured, tormented, mocked, humiliated, elevated, praised and admired Snape, just as he had with all of his other followers. He would be expected to return to the Dark Lord's service. Both of his masters would expect it of him. But he wasn't a Death Eater anymore. How would he do those things?

How would he ever look Lupin in the eyes if he did those things? He and Lupin had discussed his days as a Death Eater before he had sought out Dumbledore. They both thought those abominations were in his past. Never to be repeated. He screwed his eyes shut at the horror of Lupin thinking he had become a Death Eater once more. He dragged both his palms across his face, his palms rasping across his morning stubble.

He didn't even know if he could do those things now. Perhaps, he would go mad instead. He hung his head in his hands. Was there ever a worse time to think than early in the morning following nightmares? He tipped his head back and looked into the bedroom where Lupin slept.

Should he bond with Lupin at all? If the Dark Lord returned, Lupin would be safer without Snape as his husband. Moody was certainly right in that respect: if the Dark Lord returned and found out about them, what he would do to both of them would be vicious, excruciating and ultimately lethal, but only once he had prolonged their suffering exquisitely into insanity.

How could he endanger Lupin: this man who he had come to love so dearly? He left his chair and returned to the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed and looked lovingly at Lupin, sleeping so deeply. Then he stood and ran his hands over their new waistcoats hanging from the wardrobe door that Lupin had picked up from Madame Malkin, just toying with the buttons and the hems in thought.

How could he give Lupin up? He had become Snape's world. They were to soul-bond for a reason. Lupin spoke to Snape's soul – Lupin Lightened Snape's soul and made him think his ultimate redemption was possible. In fact, if he gave Lupin up, he would be giving in to everything that was wrong and Dark, reverting to his miserable existence that fed on spite and hatred. He and Lupin and their soul bonding stood for everything that the Dark Lord hated – love, friendship, bonding and Lightness of the soul between wizarding kind, no matter the blood status or breed.

He wouldn't give in to his fear. He would protect Lupin from the Dark Lord, but he would not give him up because happiness sometimes had to be fought for. It had to be won. This man made him happier than he knew was possible.

 _And_ _I deserve this happiness_ , he thought defiantly _._ The malignant spell of self-doubt was broken and he got back into bed and kissed Lupin's forehead lightly.

"Sev'rus," Lupin said sleepily, "What's the matter? You should be asleep," Lupin yawned widely, "big day today," making Snape smile as wrapped his arms around the groggy man.

"Nothing, Remus. Nothing at all. I'm just excited," he murmured and fell asleep.

* * *

Snape and Lupin had Apparated to the field in Snowdonia after lunch and then on to the farmhouse, where Dumbledore was waiting with Fawkes. Dumbledore told them a house elf, Tippy, had been assigned to them, so their catering was taken care of for the weekend. Lupin and Snape had changed their clothes there and Snape had to confess to himself that he was nervous. Nervous because he was dressed in new clothes, bespoke for their bonding. He felt oddly superstitious, although he was not a superstitious man. Lupin stood behind him as Snape started to do up his buttons in the mirror. Lupin took over, kissing his Claiming bite before buttoning the waistcoat slowly and almost with reverence, smoothing the woollen fabric over Snape's slim form.

"It's a beautiful colour on you, Severus," Lupin said quietly. "The colour that follows twilight."

ooo0000ooo

It was the time between times: twilight. Neither night nor day and magically auspicious.

Snape and Lupin stood before Dumbledore on the ancient stone. Dumbledore had cast a domed warming charm around them to protect them from the bitter December mountain top air that squalled around them.

Snape and Lupin knelt facing each other each other, each holding a circlet.

"You are here to bond to each other, your souls as well as your bodies. These circlets will bond to your arm and manifest your love and fidelity to each other and safeguard your souls for each other. If either is treacherous, the safeguarding sanctity of the bond will be broken, and the circlet will fall away with the bond itself."

Each man placed his circlet around the other's left upper arm and they snapped into place and held their left hands over them so they both faced each other. Standing thus, Dumbledore raised his wand and cast the bonding charm, calling upon this sacred place to accept and bless the union of these two souls and to bond the men for the rest of their days, to love, to care and to protect each other; to be faithful, loyal and true unto death.

The earth answered. It augured well. The atmosphere charged with static. The air became still as the squalling winds dropped, and sounds became dull around them as if time stood still for them, then Fawkes ascended to the air, fluting his hauntingly beautiful song as he weaved around in the air above them. The casting of Dumbledore became visible as crackling strands of pure iridescent magic hovered in the air and then split out to each man's arm, opalescent flames licking around each hand that grasped the arm and each circlet forming a fine mesh over hand and gold. The mesh seemed to pulse with magic and then each circlet appeared to melt into the very skin that wore it.

Snape gasped as he felt the cold metal heat incrementally and then subsume itself into his very flesh, mildly burning his nerve endings as the gold turned red in his skin, and then started to cool and, in the cooling, become black, as if his skin were inked black. He watched as the same happened to Lupin, who beamed with happiness at Snape as the magic cooled, and Snape gazed back in wonder. Where Snape held Lupin's arm, he could feel the circlet deep within his flesh.

The bond had taken. Lupin was his; he was Lupin's.

"Congratulations. The ancient magic of this mountain has blessed your union," Dumbledore pronounced happily. "Respect it and give it its due. I will leave you now." He squeezed each man's shoulder, smiling broadly, his eyes twinkling. "The warming charm I cast will last until dawn. See you in school on Monday, Severus." Dumbledore Disapparated on the spot. Fawkes flew over them for a few minutes more until his song died and he flew off into the distance.

The men knelt facing each other, still grasping each other's arm. Snape spread his fingers wide over the embedded circlet, awestruck, as Lupin pulled him to himself with both arms and kissed him, gently at first and increasing in passion.

"It's done, Severus," Lupin breathed into Snape's mouth. "None can part us now."

Snape's heart was full and he found he just couldn't speak. Bonded, just as he had wished. He had never had a wish realised before. He responded to Lupin's kiss, his hands now in Lupin's hair and slowly and carefully leant Lupin back onto the stone, until he covered Lupin's chest with his own as he kissed him passionately and possessively, then unbuttoning each button with delicacy until he could push the two sides of the waistcoat apart and run his fingers over Lupin's chest and stroke his nipples as Lupin sighed and Snape could feel the energy of the mountain's magic energise his fingers as they slipped down to the waistband of Lupin's trousers as hot and heavy desire pooled in his groin. They were bonded now, and he wanted this first time as bonded lovers to be exquisite for Lupin.

Lupin hummed his contentment to let Snape take control as Snape slowly undid the cord and slipped the trousers down Lupin's legs to his boots, taking those off too so he had all of Lupin's skin under his hand and took his time to caress gently all of Lupin's neck, chest and stomach, his hips and his thighs with his hands and lips until Lupin was moaning Snape's name softly and stretching gently under Snape's touches, touches that were enervated by the static charges of magic.

Snape leant over Lupin to kiss him deeply and toed off his own boots, as Lupin ran his hands over Snape, and gently removed his waistcoat and trousers until Snape was naked over him and laid himself on top of him so their skins would touch and pressing their erections together as they kissed, Snape running his hands through Lupin's hair as Lupin caressed Snape's back and shoulders, setting Snape's skin on fire.

They ground their hips together rhythmically, Snape's head now full of hot, muzzy desire as he listened to Lupin's soft moans and felt his flesh beneath his own, the gathering, incipient magic feathering across their skin now, heightening their senses as Snape ran his hands down Lupin's side, making his back arch as Snape moved his legs apart gently with his own. He leant on one elbow as his fingers stroked Lupin's perineum lightly, travelling back to his opening and just tracing around until Lupin moaned louder, pushing his hips forward to receive Snape's fingers as he sighed his name. Snape worked his fingers expertly to make Lupin groan as he stroked against his sweet spot over and over until Lupin began to writhe and beg for Snape to fill him up, making Snape's hot passion throb ever harder.

It was all Snape could do to hold on to his own passion. As gentle as he wanted to be, the accumulating magic and passion was generating such desire in him that he yearned to take Lupin forcefully but Snape was determined, this first time as his husband, would be gentle and loving. He stroked and stroked as Lupin's breathing became more and more ragged and his body glistened as Snape pushed him further and further on his fingers alone, and Lupin gasped for air as he begged harder for Snape for fill him, to love him, to fuck him please.

Snape's breath hitched. Lupin had never used that word to him, had never asked for that, and his self-control snapped as Lupin wrapped his legs high around Snape's waist and Snape knelt pulling Lupin's hips up with him as he thrust into Lupin in one thrust, finding him hot, wet and very ready and Lupin cried out hoarsely in delayed pleasure and thrust back hard, making Snape in his turn groan loudly. He could not contain himself, no matter how hard he tried now as Lupin writhed and bucked against him, his arms stretched above his head and calling to Snape. Snape pitched in to Lupin feverishly murmuring Lupin's name like a mantra, and with every desperate thrust, Lupin cried his name and the magic of the mountain magnified every feeling on every nerve ending and they thrust at each other in mounting delirium and Snape took hold of Lupin's cock to pump him in time with their own thrusts, now faster and harder than before until they could not withhold their release any longer, and both came fiercely, each other's name on their lips, and Snape lowered Lupin gently as they both struggled for breath and eased himself down to lie next to him. As their breathing eased, they kissed gently again and lay in each other's arms.

"Husband," Snape murmured into Lupin's neck, still not quite believing it to be true, and Lupin held Snape tighter still.

.


	41. A Secret Ingredient

They had spent their bonding night on the mountain top. Flushed with magic and fervour, they had spent the night in passion, taking each other in turn - Bond and Claim - pushing each other harder, their desire and bodies seeming to know no bounds in this place.

Before dawn, they had re-dressed each other and Lupin Apparated them back to the farm house. Tippy was called, who brought them a cooked breakfast of gargantuan proportions that the men had no trouble polishing off before taking to their bed against the bitter cold, and to sleep.

Snape awoke mid-morning, and watched Lupin until he awoke.

"Happy New Year," he said, and stroked Lupin's shoulder stopping short as he saw the bonding circlet and then snapped his eyes down to look at his own. "Look at them!" he said, awestruck.

Instead of the black, seemingly tattooed, smooth circles wrapping around their upper arms, the smooth edges had begun to feather with an ornate curling edge. _Love accretes to them_ , Dumbledore had said. Snape smiled crookedly at Lupin's beaming smile at such a manifestation as Lupin ghosted his fingers over Snape's upper arm.

"I'm aiming for these accretions to cover our whole upper arms by our first anniversary, Severus," Lupin murmured into Snape's ear as he pulled Snape to him.

"Of that, I have no doubt," Snape sighed at Lupin's renewed touch.

Their two day honeymoon was mainly spent making love, both men so relieved that their plans for bonding had not been ruined, only occasionally venturing out in the cold to take some fresh air. They were fed royally by Tippy, with rich and flamboyant food, fit for a honeymoon. They promised themselves a full honeymoon in the summer once the school term had finished and discussed the places in antiquity they wished to visit. In no time, the weekend had passed. They Disapparated back to Hogwarts in time for Monday morning classes, Lupin staying just one more night before returning to work on the Tuesday.

Snape was amazed at how much more palatable his working day (for him, if not for the students) was knowing Lupin waited for him in his quarters. _Next school year,_ he thought, _Remus will never have to leave my side._ The knowledge warmed him; he felt as never before that he had a future beyond the visible horizon.

As it was their last night before Lupin went back to Egypt and, he supposed, the final night of their honeymoon, Snape wanted to make the most of it. They had a private meal together and Snape had undressed Lupin and himself slowly in the way Lupin enjoyed.

He had known exactly how he wanted it to be this night and he and Lupin had stroked and kissed each other skilfully bringing each other to the brink of their passion. He was straddling Lupin now, and Lupin was stroking inside Snape deliciously and manoeuvring Snape over his too hard cock, murmuring to Snape to ride him, the way he loved it, hard and fast. Snape's groin and stomach were knotted hard in desire as he slowly started to grind down on Lupin's cock.

Then came a sudden and urgent hammering at his chamber door.

Snape threw back his head and groaned and swore in frustration. Lupin was sheathed fully and deliciously into him and he was barely able to focus or breathe regularly, and some wretched child was now hammering on his door. He didn't want to answer it. He didn't want to leave Lupin's cock that was hot inside him.

"Severus," Lupin was whispering insistently, "you have to at least answer."

Snape could make no more than an inarticulate grunt of frustration and ground down on Lupin, then pushed himself off unwillingly and grabbed a robe, then calling out furiously, "I'm coming!" as he fumbled with the buttons. "Chance would be a fine thing ..." he then grumbled under his breath, his hands shaking slightly.

"Here, let me," Lupin chuckled as he got up and fastened Snape's buttons with a charm, for which he received a weak smile, and then Snape combed his dishevelled hair as Lupin unexpectedly cast another charm which held Snape's cock flat to his body, making him flinch.

"What did you just do?" Snape yelped.

"Gave you some modesty," Lupin laughed. "You were looking rather too ... um ... proud to be ministering pastoral care, Severus."

"What?" he blustered. " ... never heard the like ... ridiculous .. " Snape muttered to himself as he struggled and failed with his boots, until Lupin got on his knees in front of him and pulled them on for him.

"Severus, be calm. I will still be here when you finish, my love," Lupin murmured, kissing him softly on the lips and with a devastating smile, "ready for you."

Snape was suddenly very grateful for the hold of the reinforcement charm as he stiffened painfully against it thinking of Lupin lying waiting for him ... ready, as he swept out of his quarters to find two terrified second year Slytherins waiting for him to undo a Lion's Mane jinx they'd performed on their friend but didn't know how to reverse.

As he performed the counter-jinx on the startled second year in the Slytherin common room, he gave some consideration to how unpleasant their punishment should be on two grounds: for being unintelligent enough to use a jinx without knowing the counter-jinx and for interrupting his honeymoon. No, of course they weren't to know about the second, and he supposed he'd have to get used to having his private life interrupted once his husband lived with him, but that knowledge didn't stop him feeling petulant and hard done by. He sighed heavily.

He had always made himself available to students of his House. He didn't want any juvenile indiscretions being known to the other staff or even to Poppy (especially if that would cost them house points), if he himself could deal with it. He settled on a stern lecture, heavily laced with sarcasm, to the students in question coupled with a detention of separating frog spawn into individual eggs and then berated the older students in the common room for not having assisted their House mates.

When he returned half an hour later, he had no sooner got through his door and re-set the wards than he threw off his boots and unbuttoned his robe as he strode through to his bedroom where, true to his word, Lupin waited for him. Snape tore off his robe, and his erection returned, as Lupin's also hardened at the sight of a determined and lustful Snape advancing upon him.

He crawled over Lupin and they kissed bruisingly. Lupin moved his hand forward to prepare Snape again, but it was brushed away impatiently and Snape pushed himself down on Lupin hard, making himself groan deeply at the feel of Lupin's cock deep into his own tightness, as Lupin grasped his thighs, his own breath hitching. Snape steadied himself for a moment, savouring the feel of it and then ground himself again on Lupin, slowly at first, feeling the heat stoke in his groin and listening to Lupin groan with every movement he made. He sped up, arching his back and hitting his own prostate causing waves of pleasure to cloud his mind with passion once more, now back where he was before the hammering at the door.

He moved as if entranced, entranced by the friction he generated causing Lupin to moan almost incessantly underneath him and by the waves of pleasure that intensified as Lupin stroked his cock in time, and built until eventually his grinding became erratic as his orgasm crashed over him and colours blossomed behind his eyelids and he cried out together with Lupin, as he shivered with his powerful release and gradually slowed until he leant exhausted against his arms that pressed against Lupin's stomach and then lowered himself into Lupin's waiting embrace, whispering each other's name.

ooo000ooo

Lupin had left in the morning to make his Portkey back to Egypt. Snape knew he would miss him very much, but they had the mirrors and they would be with each other in two weeks at the full moon. He did not feel quite so bereft as he had when Lupin had left him before. There could be no doubt about it: now they were bonded, Snape felt like a very different man (although possibly no-one would have known to look at him). He was still aloof with most of the staff and unpleasant and strict with the students. But in himself, he felt remarkable: he felt whole. His hand kept finding its way unconsciously to his upper arm, to the circlet that marked him as Lupin's husband. He made a mental note to train himself out of that habit - but not just yet.

 

* * *

The January full moon fell on a Monday so there would be no chance for Snape to make it to Lupin with much time to spare before the moonrise so early in the winter's day. It would have to suffice. Provided they could be together for the transformation that was the most important thing. Snape arrived with barely fifteen minutes to spare and settled down with Lupin to help him through his transformation.

Snape wanted to fly with his wolf tonight, the first transformation since bonding. He could take Pepper-Up Potion tomorrow for his classes, if necessary. This was more important to him.

They let themselves out through the French windows and, as before, the wolf, checking for Snape behind him all the time, began to run, through the ancient forest, dancing with Snape as he flew alongside the wolf on his broom. As the wolf sped up, so Snape flew faster, testing his own reflexes against the split-second primal reflexes of the wolf to turn when he turned and to swerve when he swerved, every now and then, when space between the giant conifers allowed, Snape would roll the broom and fly a little higher so the wolf would dance up to him. Just a little higher each time, he would fly so the wolf would leap and bark for joy as they reached the dense inner precincts of the forest and they both ran and flew in converse figures of eight, chasing each other through the trees, the wolf barking and Snape laughing with the liberating feel of it.

Then as he flew upwards, suddenly in a blur, he was snatched from his broom as if weightless, and his neck was pierced cruelly in that same instant. He cried out in pain, and struggled as he pulled at two huge scaled claws that held him by his head like a rag doll as giant leathery wings sought to enfold him and the decaying stench of his captor engulfed him. But in the next second, the creature was wrested downwards by the powerful jaws of the snarling wolf who had leapt as high as its twisting body could force itself, dragging at the creature down by its sharply protruding hip bone.

The creature let out a blood-curdling, high pitched shriek as it dropped Snape, who cushioned his fall with a charm as he took in his first sight of the creature. It was hairless, its claws were scaled but the rest of its skin was leathery and stretched taut over its visible skeleton and musculature, but there was no fat on the creature at all. Its yellowing skin was traced with black veins of long-ago solidified blood. Its face was no more than its skull with outlined tendons, with protuberant yellow eyes, and a lipless mouth displaying its sharp fangs – a soulless parody of life and form that was the feral vampyr.

The creature tried to claw at the wolf's slavering snout to obtain its release. Snape whipped out his wand and sent burning hexes to the creature's face and claws and it tore itself away from Lupin's jaws and shot away, squealing in rage, from the two. Snape watched the odious creature, listening to the slow whoosh of its large leathery wings as it flew higher.

The wolf bounded to Snape, who knelt for the wolf to sniff his bitten neck. The slashes across the wolf's snout were already healing and it nuzzled Snape's collar, with small whimpering noises. Snape understood and untied his cravat and opened his collar, as he panted for breath, holding the wolf's crest, and the wolf licked away the filth of the creature's fangs and sealed the puncture wounds.

No sooner had Lupin finished healing the creature's latching bite than they heard another scream, followed by the howl for help of another werewolf. Snape Summoned his broom and they both dashed to the sound of the scream and howl. All the other werewolves and their mates responded to the call.

The creature had Amelie by her head in its splayed claws, its head bowed in as it pierced her throat, her blood pulsing from the punctures. The creature was high out of the range of the wolves, but not of the brooms. Snape rounded on the creature, followed by Archimedes and Tonks.

"We need to get Amelie away from it!" Archimedes called as he dived in to send whipping hexes at the creature's back to make it twist. It worked. The creature withdrew its fangs from Amelie's throat in shock as it twisted to face the threat, and then all three sent stinging, whipping and burning hexes to the creature repeatedly and in quick succession. It shrieked as it writhed, and let Amelie fall. Tonks sent a cushioning charm beneath Amelie and her mate bounded to her to heal her.

"Keep the damned thing away while I tend her!" Snape shouted to the other two as his broom shot to the ground and he rushed to Amelie. Jasper, her mate, had sealed the punctures as Lupin had done for Snape, but she'd been bitten more deeply and for longer than he, and had lost a lot of blood. Snape brought out his shrunken Apothecary bag from his cloak pocket, enlarged it and found a phial of blood-replenishing potion and poured it into her, aware all the time of the shrieking and shouting and flaring lights of the aerial battle above him. He heard Archimedes cast _Avada Kedavra_ at the creature. _Idiot boy!_

"You're wasting your time!" Snape roared as he mounted his broom and shot up to assist the other two who were firing curses at the dangerously enraged creature. "The damned thing is already dead. Its heart stopped beating when it was turned. Incapacitate it! Cut it! Cut its wings! Decapitate it!" Snaped yelled over the creature's piercing shrieks as he cast _Diffindo_ to the joint of one of its giant leathery wings, so that it hung uselessly but then started to repair itself.

" _SECTUMSEMPRA!"_ Snape roared. _Let's see you repair that, filth!_

The creature shrieked piercingly as Snape's curse cut and cut again, slashing at the creature's wings, as Tonks and Archimedes sent Stunning and cutting spells at the creature, swooping around it to keep it disorientated as Snape slashed the creature with the malice required to harm it seriously. The unrelenting, irreparable Dark curse damage meant the creature began to sink towards the baying pack that was snapping and slavering below it. Snape cast a Levitation charm to keep the creature just out of their jaws' reach. He had business of his own with this creature and he was very grateful it had put itself across his path – _oh yes indeed_. He flew nearer as the creature writhed and twisted against the blows it received from three differing directions, hissing and lashing out with its bony claws and then Snape dived in fast and he sliced through its ribs by its breastbone, and grasped the creature's long-stilled heart. _"Diffindo!"_ and sliced to disengage it from its mooring veins and arteries and pulled away his prize, malice glittering in his dark eyes as they held the wide malignant yellow orbs of the agonised Nosferatu.

He released his Levitation charms in that instant and the creature fell to the forest floor and all the wolves fell upon it, snarling and slavering as they ripped and tore at the creature's leathery skin on its body and shredded wings, shaking their heads as their jaws tore it apart. Only Jasper stood aside by his mate protectively, hackles raised and snarling at the scene.

Snape returned to the ground, and pulled a small box from his bag and enlarged it. It was lead lined. Snape trimmed the hanging veins and arteries, long since desiccated, and placed the blackened. shrivelled organ in the box with reverence and sealed it with a charm, shrinking it once more. Tonks and Archimedes had joined him.

"At school, we used to think _you_ were a vampire, Professor," Tonks said, as she watched Snape work methodically.

"I am aware of the belief," Snape said, with a slight smirk.

"There's definitely something of the night about you," Tonks smiled crookedly, pointing at his gruesome trophy.

"I don't recall you being this cheeky to my face before, Miss Tonks," Snape said silkily. "If only I could dock points from Hufflepuff."

"Only ever behind your back, sir," Tonks said, with a small laugh. A smile tugged at the corners of Snape's mouth briefly but then he turned back to the snarling pack still tearing vengefully at their quarry and raised his wand.

"Move away!" he commanded the wolves. "Now!" They looked up to him and then to Lupin, who moved well away so they all did. As they moved, the creature's body struggled to repair itself, miniscule thread of flesh, tendon or bone by miniscule thread of flesh, tendon or bone.

"Stay back," Snape commanded.

"It's in pieces and it's still trying to regenerate!" Tonks gasped in horror as Archimedes cursed loudly.

Snape cast wide and mightily, and the all the sundered parts of the creature were swept up together and consumed by an almighty conflagration of Fiendfyre that rose into the sky in the writhing, twisting form of the vampyr until the form dissipated and Snape slowly brought the curse to an end.

"Not anymore," Snape sneered.

 

* * *

They all made their way back to the retreat, an unconscious Amelie held by Snape in front of him on his broom. Snape carried her into her and Jasper's own room accompanied by Tonks and Archimedes and, once Snape was satisfied she was out of harm's way, they all made their way back to their own rooms for the rest of the night and their mate's transformations.

Lupin's transformation went well with Snape there to hold him. When Lupin's form was settled, Snape wrapped him up against the cold and settled next to him in bed for a few short hours of fitful sleep and to hold him in his arms and then to take Lupin gently just after waking. Lupin was very affectionate that morning, and despite his exhaustion, would barely let go of Snape, even to bathe and dress, plainly distressed by last night's vampyr attack.

"More than anything, a vampyr desires magical blood. When it tracked us last time, it would have sensed you are a powerful wizard, Severus, and singled you out. Once Archimedes warned us, we should have taken more care. We should have run as a pack," Lupin said regretfully. "It was lucky you and the others were there to save Amelie." Lupin was still holding on to Snape's waist as he had all morning, almost as if he let go, Snape might evaporate.

"It was lucky you were there to save me, I think," Snape said softly.

"Luck was all it was because you fly low to run with me! Had you flown higher, I couldn't have saved you," Lupin spat, clearly cross with himself. "I put you in danger. I could've lost you."

"Enough!" Snape said dangerously, then softened. "Enough. There is nothing that would stop me flying with you if I have my choice. No danger – nothing." Snape kissed the side of Lupin's face and went back to the task he had engaged himself in.

"Is it used as a Potion ingredient?" Lupin asked, watching Snape bind the lead-lined box in newly-cut hawthorn and wild rose branches as Apotropaics in the unlikely event of a partial regeneration of the creature.

"Yes, the heart of a feral vampyr is an extraordinary rarity," Snape said, and then inhaled deeply. "But it also an ingredient for a potion used in a certain ritual, which I have participated in for just one other wizard, just once, and which I have long sought," Snape said, readying himself to tell Lupin what he intended to do.

"Who was that wizard?" Lupin asked and Snape heard the concern in his tone.

"The Dark Lord," Snape said quietly, resting his hands on Lupin's and resting his body back on Lupin's chest.

"Is it a Dark ritual?" Lupin asked softly, doubt evident in his voice. Snape turned to face Lupin and looked at him frankly.

"If the heart were from a living being, I would call it a Dark ritual. But a vampyr is a dead thing – no more than a parasite – I have no compunction in using it. It is ... rare magic. Arcane, if you will. The ritual is for an ability, but the ability itself is not Dark. Something I wish for more than anything now you run so I can be with you," he said enigmatically, his eyes searching Lupin's deeply for understanding.

"What ability, Severus?" Lupin whispered the question to Snape, who stroked Lupin's jaw with one finger.

"Flight."

 

* * *


	42. Who Goes There?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quotes from Chapters 25 and 27 of GoF are © J.K. Rowling

Snape had stowed his prize away in his chambers, not trusting this particular ingredient to his store cupboard, just as he wouldn't trust the potion to his office when the time came to brew it – not with Moody watching his every move. Moody had seen the circlet, he could see his magical eye hovering over his upper arm. Snape wondered if he could see the gold embedded in his flesh, or whether he just saw a tattoo. Whatever he may have seen, Moody gave no indication and Snape did everything he could to give the man a wide berth.

He sat considering his brewing diary. As he recalled, the optimal time to start the flight potion would be the vernal equinox, which this year fell just after the March full moon. It needed twenty-five days to mature. _Just perfect!_ It would be ready for the full moon which fell the day before Easter so he might be able to get a few days to be with Lupin and cast the ritual with him – so much the better. It was two months away, but Snape was already excited at the thought.

However, he had in mind another potion now, one of his own devising, for the protection of the human mates of the werewolves with whom Lupin ran. Protection from vampyrs. This was also a brew for the privacy of his own chambers.

 

* * *

He didn't know what on earth that cacophony was – an ungodly wailing and shrieking – almost as bad as the wail of a banshee! He'd thrown himself out of bed when it jarred him awake. Too stunned to deal with putting on a robe, he'd grabbed a nightshirt and shuffled that on and his boots, grabbed his wand and went in search of the commotion, his mind racing with appropriate punishments for the perpetrators of his sleep denial at one in the morning.

As he stormed down the corridor and was about to pass his office, he stopped suddenly and inclining his head slightly saw that his door was open and the torches were lit. He pushed it gently with his boot, with his wand at the ready, and saw one of the ingredient cupboard doors was open and it had clearly been rifled. He thanked Merlin he had had the foresight not to keep the vampyr heart in there. He warded his office once more, and marched to the source of the noise, convinced it had been a distraction for the burglary of his office.

The noise stopped, but he continued in that direction anyway until he came upon Filch and his cat climbing the staircase with the missing step. He was holding a Triwizard egg which he then understood must have been the cause of the noise.

' **Filch? What's going on?'** he snapped, **livid.**

' **It's Peeves, Professor," Filch whispered malevolently. 'He threw this egg down the stairs.'**

**Snape climbed up the stairs quickly and stopped beside Filch.**

' **Peeves?' said Snape softly, staring at the egg in Filch's** **hands.** Well, that couldn't be right. **'But Peeves couldn't get into my office ...'**

' **This egg was in your office, Professor?'**

' **Of course not,' Snape snapped,** talking through Filch's inane babbling, **'I heard banging and wailing - I was coming to investigate – and when I passed my office, I saw that the torches were lit and a cupboard door was ajar! Somebody has been searching it!'**

' **But Peeves couldn't – '**

' **I know he couldn't, Filch!' Snape snapped. 'I seal my office with a spell that none but a wizard could break!' Snape looked up the stairs, ... and then down into the corridor below** searching for any sign of the burglar **. 'I want you to come and help me search for the intruder, Filch.'** It might just be students. But then again, it might be whoever had entered Potter's name in the Goblet of Fire. It certainly shouldn't be ignored.

' **I – yes, Professor – but – The thing is, Professor,' said Filch plaintively, 'the Headmaster will have to listen to me this time, Peeves has been stealing from a student, it might be my chance to get him thrown out of the castle once and for all – '**

' **Filch, I don't give a damn about that wretched poltergeist, it's my office that's – '**

 ** _Clunk. Clunk. Clunk._** _Him! Why did he have to turn up now?_ Snape thought furiously. _Probably seen something in one of his Dark detectors._

 **Snape stopped talking very abruptly** as he **saw Mad-Eye Moody limp into view ... wearing his old travelling cloak over his nightshirt, and leaning on his staff as usual.**

' **Pyjama party, is it?' he growled up the stairs.** Snape wished very much now that he had robed.

' **Professor Snape and I heard noises, Professor,' said Filch at once. 'Peeves the poltergeist, throwing things around as usual – and then Professor Snape discovered that someone had broken into his off-'**

' **Shut up!' Snape hissed to Filch.** He did not need this mad man's attention drawn to his office again, or indeed to himself in any way.

 **Moody took a step closer to the foot of the stairs.** His **magical eye travel** led **over Snape, and then** oddly seemed to focus in the middle distance behind Snape in surprise. **Then Moody closed his mouth and turn** ed **his blue eye on Snape again.**

' **Did I hear correctly, Snape?' he asked slowly. 'Someone broke into your office?'**

' **It is unimportant,' said Snape coldly.**

' **On the contrary,' growled Moody, 'it is very important. Who'd want to break into your office?'**

' **A student, I daresay,' said Snape** feeling his anger rising that this man felt he had the right to question him, ex-Auror or not **. 'It has happened before. Potion ingredients have gone missing from my private store cupboard ... students attempting illicit mixtures, no doubt ...'** He tried to be dismissive.

' **Reckon they were after potion ingredients, eh?' said Moody. 'Not hiding anything else in your office, are you?'**

Snape could feel his face colour with fury. Moody knew damn well there was nothing untoward in Snape's office. He turned it over completely and destructively before, and yet he would still stoop to trying to degrade him in front of Filch. _Oh, the man was foul._ But he also needed to deflect Moody from any interest in him. He didn't want to give him an excuse to think he could search his private quarters too.

' **You know I'm hiding nothing, Moody,' he said in a soft and dangerous voice, 'as you've searched my office pretty thoroughly yourself.'**

**Moody's face twisted into a smile. 'Auror's privilege, Snape. Dumbledore told me to keep an eye –'**

' **Dumbledore happens to trust me,' said Snape, through clenched teeth. 'I refuse to believe that he gave you orders to search my office!'** Not a second time, no. He would not have done that. _Would he?_

'' **Course Dumbledore trusts you,' growled Moody. 'He's a trusting man, isn't he? Believes in second chances. But me – I say there are spots that don't come off, Snape. Spots that never come off, d'you know what I mean?'**

 **Snape seized his left forearm convulsively with his right hand**. He could have sworn it flared briefly. But it couldn't have surely. _Could it? You're becoming paranoid, Severus._

 **Moody laughed. Get back to bed, Snape.'** Moody was sneering at Snape condescendingly. It was perfectly apparent that he knew he had the upper hand.

' **You don't have the authority to send me anywhere!' Snape hissed, letting go of his arm as though angry with himself. 'I have as much right to prowl this school after dark as you do!'**

' **Prowl away,' said Moody, but his voice was full of menace. 'I look forward to meeting you in a dark corridor some time ..."** Snape's eyes narrowed. He knew a threat when he heard it and Moody had without doubt just threatened him if he found him alone after dark. Moody was a powerful wizard, Snape knew that. He was once the best Auror in the Ministry, but one only had to look at his face to know he could be hurt – he could be beaten. Moody didn't have much further to push him and then Snape would show him just how hurt he could be ... yes, indeed. Moody was coming perilously close to pushing Snape past his endurance – an attack on him after dark would do it _and Dumbledore be damned_.

" **you've dropped something, by the way ...'** Moody said, off hand, snapping Snape out of his reverie.

There, on the staircase, where Moody was pointing, was the map. _What the hell was this doing here?_ He had assumed Lupin still had it. It was definitely the map – he'd recognise that parchment anywhere. **Snape had reached out of for it –** it could well be useful in trying to figure out if Moody really was ... well ... Moody, not to mention catching Potter out of bounds.

' ** _Accio_ parchment!'**

**The map soared down the stairs into Moody's hand.**

' **My mistake,' Moody said calmly. 'It's mine – must've dropped it earlier – '**

 **But Snape's black eyes were darting from the egg in Filch's arms to the map in Moody's hand, and** then he knew.

' **Potter,' he said quietly.** Lupin must have given it back to Potter. _Merlin! I could scrag that man sometimes – husband or not!_

' **What's that?' said Moody calmly, folding up the map and pocketing it.**

' **Potter!' Snape snarled, and he turned his head and stared** where Moody had been staring and, at that point, he knew with absolute certainty that Potter was – right - there. It all fell into place. **'That egg is Potter's egg. That piece of parchment belongs to Potter. I have seen it before, I recognise it! Potter is here! Potter, in his Invisibility Cloak!'**

 **Snape stretched out his hands and began to move up the stairs.** He was pretty sure now he could smell bubble bath as well. _How odd._

' **There's nothing there, Snape!' barked Moody. 'But I'll be happy to tell the Headmaster how quickly your mind jumped to Harry Potter!'**

' **Meaning what?' snarled Snape, turning again to look at Moody, his hands still outstretched.**

' **Meaning that Dumbledore's very interested to know who's got it in for that boy!' said Moody, limping nearer still to the foot of the stairs. 'And so am I, Snape ... very interested ...' The torchlight flickered across his mangled face, so that the scars, and the chunk missing from his nose, looked deeper and darker than ever.** Snape saw Moody's eye linger on his neck and then down to his Dark Mark, the implication being that there was nothing trustworthy about Snape because he was a Death Eater and the mate of a werewolf.

 **Snape was looking down at Moody** with loathing, but even though he would bet all his Galleons that Potter was there in his Invisibility Cloak, he did not want to be the subject of this foul old man's bigoted scrutiny or to give him a reason to interfere with the full moon that was just days away. **Snape slowly lowered his hands.**

' **I merely thought,' said Snape,** trying to keep the anger out of his voice **, 'that if Potter was wandering around after hours again ... it's an unfortunate habit of his ... he should be stopped. For – for his own safety.'**

' **Ah, I see,' said Moody** sarcastically **. 'Got Potter's best interests at heart, have you?'**

 **There was a pause. Snape and Moody were still staring at each other.** _You have no idea, old man,_ Snape thought _, but I can't achieve anything arguing with you._ **'I think I will go back to bed,' Snape said curtly.**

' **Best idea you've had all night,' said Moody,** enraging Snape more, but leaving him feeling impotent, knowing that it was Moody who had the ear of Dumbledore, not himself **. 'Now, Filch, if you'll just give me that egg – '**

' **No!' said Filch, clutching the egg** to himself **. 'Professor Moody, this is evidence of Peeves's treachery!'**

' **It's the property of the champion he stole it from,' said Moody. 'Hand it over, now.'**

 **Snape** had heard enough and **swept downstairs and passed Moody without another word,** barely registering the heavy smell of coal tar soap, and strode back to his office, beyond furious. He had no doubt that if trouble befell the brat tonight, Dumbledore would put the blame at his door. He did a quick inventory of the cupboard's contents and knew immediately what was missing. Boomslang skin. Surely, Potter had no reason to be brewing Polyjuice Potion again. _Dammit, without Moody's interference I would have had the brat and his ill-gotten gains and then what would Albus say?_ His shoulders dropped. Why did he even bother? Even if he caught Potter red-handed, Dumbledore would find a way to get the boy off the hook _. Why the hell did Albus allow all of this?_

 

* * *

Snape had just managed to make the earlier Portkey to the retreat although it had been a desperate rush. Before meeting with his soul mate, he met with the other human mates as Lupin had arranged at Snape's request, and distributed an Apotropaic salve of essence of wild rose, hawthorn, mustard seed, and garlic, which he had brewed to ward away any other feral vampyrs that might inhabit the forest so none of the couples would feel the need to curtail their running. He shrugged off their thanks, knowing only how he would feel if Lupin would not let him fly with him whilst he ran.

His relief at making the early Portkey was profound, especially since his latest run-in with Moody. He had very much needed and wanted to be with Lupin for those few hours before moonrise. It might not be understood by others, but the exacting and bruising sex before moonrise was a purging of his anger followed by a healing balm to his ragged self-esteem and a testament to his ability to satisfy all his husband's and his own needs, both physical and spiritual. By the time of Lupin's transformation deep in the forest, Snape felt cleansed, in control and whole again as he waited to care for Lupin at his most vulnerable.

 

* * *

The second task was underway and Snape stood with the other staff, watching the unedifying spectacle of partisan spectators. There was precious little else to watch, after all. The champions were deep underwater now undertaking the very challenge that he and Lupin had created and which had been negotiated between Dumbledore and the merpeople. So, whilst Snape had a better idea than most what the champions faced (and indeed had experienced the Black Lake with Lupin in a way that most never would) he was bored witless and whiled away the time taking points from whatever hapless student crossed his path without behaving impeccably.

After only half an hour, Miss Delacour surfaced, defeated by the Grindylows. Lupin had, of course, taught all the Hogwarts students how to deal robustly with Grindylows. Snape was more than surprised that these brittle creatures had bested the witch that was supposed to represent all that was best of her school.

Finally, after the full hour that seemed to stretch into three, Diggory was the first champion to break the surface of the water with Miss Chan, thereby completing the task although out of time. Shortly after, he was followed by Krum with Miss Granger. Snape found his interest piqued: who would be Potter's "treasure"? Tension grew as time continued to pass and then suddenly, Potter's head broke the surface, and he was clearly distressed and gasping for air. The spectators went wild with appreciation, even more so when they saw he had not only Weasley but also Miss Delacour's small sister. He had rescued both.

Potter just had to rescue the girl – he just couldn't help himself. He clearly could have drowned by his desperate gasping. Snape shook his head in resignation and offered a small mental apology to his long deceased friend that he was clueless of the latest danger Potter's heroics had got him into. But, to his delight: Ronald Weasley was Harry Potter's precious item. _How amusing_ , Snape smirked unpleasantly. There must be mileage to be had there, he was sure.

He watched as Dumbledore conferred with a mermaid spokeswoman and then called a conference of the judges. Snape watched with amusement as Potter paled then flushed brilliantly under the continental gratitude of Miss Delacour that was then shared with an immensely receptive Weasley. Snape sneered, **but just then, Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice boomed out ... causing the crowd in the stands to go very quiet.**

' **Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Mer-cheftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions as follows ...**

' **Miss Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by Grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points.'** Snape sneered again. Imagine being awarded points for abject failure to repel Dark creatures that any second year should be capable of despatching!

' **Mr Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was first to return with his hostage, though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour. We therefore award him forty-seven points.'** The Hogwarts students, most particularly the Hufflepuffs, went wild.

' **Mr Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty points.** He watch Karkaroff strut proudly. and rolled his eyes.

' **Mr Harry Potter used Gillyweed to great effect,' Bagman continued.** The effect on Snape was electric. There was only one place Potter could have got Gillyweed and that was his own private stores – the Gillyweed he himself had collected when he was with Lupin in the summer. He would check his stores, but he knew. He bristled with anger, and drew in a breath sharply between his clenched teeth to clamp down on the rising anger. Yes, he'd tell Dumbledore – for what _that_ was worth. He heard Bagman announce some tripe about Potter showing "moral fibre" and awarding him forty-five points so, by Snape's calculations, Potter now tied for first place with Diggory. _Good to know that thieves prosper,_ he thought bitterly and didn't listen to any more, but his frown was as dark and forbidding as that of Igor Karkaroff on the platform below.

ooo000ooo

"... And if he'd come to you to ask for Gillyweed, Severus," Lupin said, in his most reasonable voice, "would you have given it to him freely?"

"I would not have been permitted to, under the rules ..." Snape blustered, knowing in his heart that he would have refused in any event, just as Lupin knew it, so he would never convince Lupin of the boy's felony.

"Then, what was he supposed to do?" Lupin asked quietly.

 

* * *

The blessed Golden Trio were chattering away, oblivious to basic potioneering safety as usual. He easily advanced silently on them and listened with barely restrained disgust to Miss Granger's wittering about Krum. Whatever he may have thought of her, he had not thought her many faults might encompass the brainless adulation of a Quidditch player – then again - he inclined his head at Potter - look who her best friend was.

' **Fascinating though your social life undoubtedly is, Miss Granger,'** Snape said coldly, **'I must ask you not to discuss it in my class. Ten points from Gryffindor.'** Then Snape saw what Miss Granger was holding under the table. _Really?_

' **Ah ... reading magazines under the table as well?'** Well, well, Miss Granger really was full of surprises today – a pappy magazine: he would have expected this from Miss Parkinson, but not Miss Granger. _This just gets better and better._ He snatched the copy of _Witch Weekly_ from her. **'A further ten points from Gryffindor ... oh, but of course ...' Snape's black eyes glittered as they fell on Rita Skeeter's article. 'Potter has to keep up with his press cuttings ...'**

Snape smirked as the **dungeon rang with the Slytherins' laughter.** He started to read the preposterous article aloud, delighting in the fury so readily apparent on Potter's face.

' ** _Harry Potter's Secret Heartache ..._ dear, dear, Potter, what's ailing you now? _A boy like no other, perhaps ...'_** Snape paused, his smirk deepening as the Slytherins laughed louder. He read the whole atrocious and vacuous article, torturing each sentence just for sight of Potter's exquisite agony of embarrassment, occasionally accompanied by Miss Granger's. _What did he expect if he paraded his press cuttings like this, the stupid boy!_ He certainly had his favourites – oh yes – this one: **_'Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy ..._** can you not, Potter? In what way are you deficient? How very remiss of you,' he drawled with obvious pleasure. ( _Oh, but this was priceless!)_

' ** _... Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart upon a worthier candidate._ How very touching,' sneered Snape, rolling up the magazine to continued gales of laughter from the Slytherins. 'Well, I think I had better separate the three of you, so you can keep your minds on your potions rather than your tangled love lives. Weasley, you stay here. Miss Granger, over there, beside Miss Parkinson. Potter – that table in front of my desk. Move. Now.'** His tone brooked no disagreement.

The brat **threw his ingredients and bag into his** **cauldron and dragged it up to the front of the dungeon** as Snape instructed and he followed close behind, taking his own seat as Potter **resumed the** **mashing of his scarab beetles, imagining each one to have Snape's face.** Really, the boy was too open and really too inventive when it came to his loathing. Not that Snape was bothered by the child's hatred of him. It helped to lessen his own guilt. However, he had business with this child and open confrontation might get back to Moody so this would have to do.

' **All the press attention seems ot have inflated your already overlarge head, Potter,' Snape said quietly.** The boy **didn't answer.** Snape could read that Potter thought Snape was trying to provoke him so he could take more points. _I'd certainly love to take fifty points for your theft from my office, brat!_ he thought angrily.

' **You might be labouring under the delusion that the entire wizarding world is impressed with you,' Snape went on, so quietly that no one else could hear him, 'but I don't care how many times your picture appears inthe papers. To me, Potter, you are nothing but a nasty little boy who considers rules to be beneath him.'** He could see the boy's hands slightly shaking with anger, but Potter still tried to ignore him.

' **So I give you fair warning, Potter,' in a softer, more dangerous voice, 'pint-sized celebrity or not- if I catch you breaking into my office one more time – '**

' **I haven't been anywhere near your office!'** Potter interrupted angrily.

' **Don't lie to me,' Snape hissed, his fathomless black eyes boring into** Potter's. **'Boomslang skin. Gillyweed. Both come from my private stores, and I know who stole them.'**

Potter stared at him, trying to look innocent and not to blink . Guilty thoughts flashed across the child's mind, but they were indefinite and hazy.

" **I don't know what you're talking about,'** Potter lied, and Snape could read that it was a lie.

' **You were out of bed on the night my office was broken into!' Snape hissed** , his eyes narrowing as he saw the boy prepare to deny it **. 'I know it, Potter! Now, Mad-Eye Moody might have joined your fan club, but I will not tolerate your behaviour! One more night-time stroll into my office, Potter, and you will pay!'**

' **I'll bear that in mind if I ever get the urge to go in there,'** the brat cheeked. Snape was reminded very forcefully indeed why he knew he would never have children as he fought the urge to backhand this child very hard indeed.

 **Snape's eyes flashed. He plunged a hand into the inside of his black robes.** He read the child's fear that Snape would curse him. Well, he'd come close, that was for sure. Snape drew out **a small crystal bottle of a completely clear potion.**

' **Do you know what this is, Potter?' Snape said, his eyes glittering dangerously again.** The child did not. **'It is Veritaserum – a Truth Potion so powerful that three drops would have you spilling your innermost secrets for this entire class to hear,' said Snape viciously. 'Now, the use of this Potion is controlled by very strict Ministry guidelines.'** _Regrettably,_ he thought _._ **'But unless you watch your step, you might just find that my hand _slips – '_ he shook the crystal bottle slightly, ' – right over your evening pumpkin juice. And then, Potter ... then we'll find out whether you've been in my office or not.'**

The child said nothing, but Snape read a riot of confused thoughts swirling in Potter's mind of Miss Granger, Miss Chan, Black and, quite curiously, a house elf. _How interesting._ He was about to put his mind to trying to fish more out of Potter's mind when there was a knock on the door.

Karkaroff. His stomach sank. He thought he had been too successful in avoiding him since Christmas. He had obviously decided to beard the lion in his den, as it were. _Well, full marks for sheer cheek,_ Snape thought.

' **We need to talk,' said Karkaroff abruptly** but no more than a whisper so the class would not hear.

' **I'll talk to you after my lesson, Karkaroff –' Snape muttered, but Karkaroff interrupted him.**

' **I want to talk now, while you can't slip off, Severus. You've been avoiding me.'** Karkaroff's face was filled with worry.

' **After the lesson,' Snape snapped** angrily **.** Karkaroff did not leave but **hovered behind Snape's desk** for the rest of the lesson until the students were dismissed, by which time, Snape was furious at the very public intrusion.

' **What's so urgent?'** Snape hissed.

' ** _This,_ ' said Karkaroff, **brandishing his Dark Mark to Snape. Snape said nothing. What was there to say – it was what it was – he had eyes in his head too. **'Well? Do you see? It's never been this clear, never since –'**

' **Put it away!' snarled Snape, his black eyes sweeping the classroom.** He had a feeling they were not alone, although he could see no-one else.

' **But you must have noticed – ' Karkaroff began in an agitated voice.**

' **We can talk later, Karkaroff!' spat Snape** as he saw what he had sensed earlier. **'Potter! What are you doing?'** _How does this brat always manage to stick his nose where it doesn't belong?_

' **Clearing up my armadillo bile, Professor,'** Potter said, trying to appear innocent, **showing Snape the sodden rag he was holding. Karkaroff turned on his heel and strode out of the dungeon** , then Potter cleared his things into his bag and fled the room.

Snape slumped into his chair, and rubbed his left forearm involuntarily. Did Karkaroff really think Snape just hadn't noticed? More to the point for Snape was that Lupin could see it so very clearly because he didn't see it every day so each change was remarked upon and the changes were more rapid now. Snape didn't think it would be much longer. He had told Dumbledore this. Karkaroff had told him at the Yule Ball that he would flee if the Mark burned. Snape could not flee. Indeed, he would not flee – he would have a job to do, however unwanted and unpleasant it would be.

He didn't want to think on it and what it might mean. His hand went to his upper arm and traced the circlet as he turned his mind to thoughts of Lupin instead.

 

* * *


	43. A Brewing Commission

It was the March full moon. The vernal equinox followed in a couple of days. Spring was in the air during the day, but the nights remained bitter. This full moon fell on the Friday, meaning Snape had a weekend with Lupin and on the 20th, he would set to work on the potion for flight. The weekend ahead and the brewing of the flight potion all added up to keen anticipation for Severus Snape.

ooo000ooo

They were gathered in the clearing, the wolves having chorused to the moon. The human mates congregated around Snape and exchanged pleasantries and news as Snape listened, with his arm around Lupin's neck, as usual.

After half an hour or so, Amelie shuffled over to sit next to him and smiled at him shyly.

"Severus. I hope you're well," she said, in a high, pretty voice, her fingers working in her robe nervously.

"Amelie, yes indeed. And you too?" Snape gave her a curt nod, hoping she was not going to embarrass him with thanks for the full moon two months ago. She seemed reticent and unsure how to say what she clearly wished to and kept opening her mouth to start. Snape was sure, wherever she had studied witchcraft, she would surely have been the equivalent of a Hufflepuff. He did his best to hold his patience, as she clearly struggled.

She spoke haltingly, "I hope very much you won't mind my asking you this ... I mean, I hope you won't consider it an imposition ... um ... oh dear ... it's quite difficult ..." she mumbled. Snape could feel the heat of embarrassment radiating from her.

"Best just to spit it out, I suggest," Snape said in what he hoped was a kind voice, hoping his impatience didn't show. The wolf nudged him, Snape suspected in rebuke. He smiled tightly, but then his smile probably had never soothed anyone's nerves either.

"After the incident in January when you tended me, and the potion you made to protect us last month, I asked Dora whether you were an Apothecary. I hope I haven't offended you by asking about you, but it was obvious Dora knew you when you first joined us," she rushed to say. Snape softened, seeing how discomfited the woman was. "Dora told me you were a professor of Potions."

"Did she?" Snape said, with mock menace, seeing Tonks shift in the corner of his eye.

"Oh yes!" she said breathily, speeding along, "your work is of high renown, and you're widely published, and you're reputed to be one of the finest Potioneers in the country, if not _the_ finest ..."

"Miss Amelie," Snape interrupted silkily, as he would a student. "You're wittering."

The woman, _no more than a girl really_ , Snape thought, coloured visibly, even by the light of the moon. "I'm sorry," she said.

"Not at all," Snape clipped firmly, receiving another reproving nudge and look from the wolf at his side. "What do you wish to ask me? Speak plainly. I do not bite." There was a snort from Tonks, who he favoured with a scowl and received a broad smile in return.

Amelie took a deep breath and Snape could see she was steeling her resolve. "Jasper and I have been looking for an Apothecary to make us a certain potion. Most turn us down, because ... because Jasper's a werewolf – before even hearing what we want." She breathed deeply again. Snape had studied people a great deal both as teacher and spy, and all this young woman's body language told him how much it pained her to approach a stranger such as he in such a manner.

"We wish to start a family," she talked quickly. "Of course, Jasper does not want to pass on his Lycanthropy, which is almost certain if we leave it to chance. We know of a potion – complicated, expensive and time-consuming – beyond the ability of a high street Apothecary – an _Electio_ potion – to choose not to have a cub. Have you heard of it?" Her words tumbled even more quickly now as she warmed to her task.

Snape's mind whirled and conflicting thoughts and emotions immediately warred inside him as the implications of what this young woman had said made themselves clear to him. He had heard of many different _Electio_ potions for conception choices, although not against Lycanthropy.

" _Electio inter homo et lupus -_ the choice between man and wolf," he whispered.

Amelie's face broke into a huge smile. "Yes!" she almost squealed. "You've heard of it."

"No, no," he shook his head. "But I certainly know the theory of Choice Potions. Do you know that it exists?" Snape found he was slightly fearful of her answer as he saw Lupin's ears forward and alert.

"Oh yes!" Amelie said happily, and Snape felt his stomach lurch slightly. "We have an ancient Formulary that contains the brewing method. We brought it with us this weekend in the hope that ..." Amelie gulped enormously and Snape closed his eyes as he waited for the question he knew was coming. "Could we ... could you ... may we commission you to brew this potion for us? We would respect your anonymity, if you wish ... and ... and we expect no favours ... or reductions or anything like that and ..." she stuttered as she gushed.

"Amelie, you are wittering again," Snape interrupted her, gently this time. He saw her enthusiasm and her happiness that their dream might come to pass. He inhaled deeply. Lupin was looking at him. Indeed, the whole assembled group was watching him. Amelie sat before him, still twisting her robe in her fingers, as so many students had done before her.

If he could brew an _Electio inter Homo et Lupus_ Potion successfully, he could undoubtedly publish his findings. It would certainly infuriate many a blood purist, but no matter: it could certainly be justified even from a pureblood point of view that born werewolves would not be perpetuated. It would be a professional challenge, almost a sport and, no doubt, there would be a handsome commission. But he felt sick to the pit of his stomach – his very manhood could be threatened. If he could brew this, then Lupin would have no further objection to fatherhood and Snape had already shown himself that he could deny Lupin nothing. _But not this – surely not this._ He schooled his reaction to professionalism only, hoping he hid his inner turmoil (but he suspected not from Lupin's primal senses, as the wolf turned and placed his snout in Snape's hands with a small whimper).

"If you have brought the Formulary with you, I will look at it tomorrow and let you know," he said, as he stoked the head of the wolf and heard a tiny whine, he thought of thanks. Amelie nodded her head brightly. "Join us for lunch then," Snape said.

* * *

No sooner had Lupin resumed his human form, and Snape had Apparated them from the forest back to their room, than Lupin grasped Snape's hands in his own, weakly.

"Dear Severus," he said breathlessly, as Snape helped him to their bed. "I have sworn to you ... whether that Potion exists or not. I would never ... I swore ..." Lupin held Snape as firmly as he could, and kissed his forehead, desperate to reassure Snape before any other words were said.

Snape removed his own clothes and got into bed next to Lupin, taking him into his arms and stroking him gently. "I know, I know," Snape murmured into Lupin's hair, the constriction of fear in his chest loosening for, yes, he knew, but the reassurance was still welcome to the man who had been betrayed so often by those to whom he had been bonded before. "Thank you."

* * *

At lunchtime, the table had been set by their waitress and a heated trolley had been left with them of various dishes. Amelie and Jasper arrived and Snape realised that he had never seen Jasper in his human form before. He remembered his nightmare before their bonding and realised with a small smile why these dream guests had been in wolf form.

Jasper was as young as his mate. They were both blond and blue-eyed, nervous and eager. He suspected he appeared old and irascible to love's young dream personified – he certainly felt it. And yet something about them was attractive and pleasing. He thought it was the hope which radiated from them.

He left it to Lupin to make the small talk as they ate lunch. He had never really understood how small talk worked. It sounded so natural when Lupin talked of nothing and everything with others, but Snape found it an impossibility. It almost choked him to trot out the type of questions and answers that simply didn't interest him, although he always listened attentively both for the spoken and unspoken responses that could tell him so much. This young couple seemed to understand that nuance of Snape and Lupin's relationship and didn't importune Snape to any degree.

Once lunch had finished, Lupin fetched them some drinks and Jasper extracted a shrunken folio from his robes and enlarged the Formulary. On seeing it, Snape's fingers almost twitched to get hold of it. He could see it was ancient and he wondered what other treasures might be contained within its bindings. _However did they get hold of it?_

Snape's hands took the ancient Formulary with reverence, his long fingers almost cherishing the ancient binding and parchment. He sat away from the others to look at the work. Lupin understood Snape's need to soak up the ancient book and called the others out to the small terrace with their drinks, leaving Snape to it.

To the background hum of their conversation, Snape's fingers lovingly traced each page as he quickly took in the arcane contents: various love potions (for differing degrees of love from adoration to passion to frenzy and the potioneer's old friend, obsession - Snape had never needed a potion for that particular character trait), a potion to cure Dropsy, one to inflict it, and this: a potion to cure Wizard's Green Ague (luckily a scourge long since defeated), a potion for increased physical strength (and not one that he had seen before) and its counterpart to drain it; one for fearlessness in battle (to his mind: pointless – fear in battle meant increased awareness and necessary aggression) and another to make men mad with fear; and so many other interesting and in some cases obsolete brews. He wondered if part of his payment might be the book itself. He might well suggest it – it would be a real addition to his arcane collection.

And here they were: various conception potions for selection in offspring: gender, abilities physiological and psychological traits, and against various hereditary diseases and curses. And here was the one he was charged with: the potion to select a man not a wolf. He read the ingredients, and was startled by the rarity of some. It certainly would be expensive. He then read the method, his keen professional mind turning already seeing improvements, seeking the refinements that could be made from modern advances and his own experience. He had no doubt at all that it was completely within his competence. He would have to experiment though. The method called for three months' brewing, but he suspected there would be failed attempts. He would need to advise the couple there could be delays and failures along the way. He was starting to feel the pull of the challenge; the thrill of the sport. He looked up and caught Lupin's eye, and he smiled at Snape warmly, making Snape's stomach flip pleasantly.

Two unique brews to start on his return then. The sooner he gave the happy couple the news that he would brew their potion for them, the sooner he hoped they would leave and he would have Lupin to himself for the rest of the day. He had shared him enough.

* * *

Yesterday, when the moon waxed full, he was subsumed in Lupin, gladly and willingly. Today, the moon waned, the wolf was spent and Lupin was his. It was their perfect symmetry.

He had Lupin stretched out underneath him, drawing his hands firmly down Lupin's torso and back up his chest until his hands rested on Lupin's shoulders and he leant over him to kiss him passionately, pushing his fingers into Lupin's hair as Lupin dragged his fingers down Snape's spine, making him arch and sigh, sighing his delight in the feel of the man under his hands and lips, and in the feelings the man's touch provoked in him. Just a touch gave him such deep, hot desire that made his ribs hurt as his chest swelled as Lupin breathed his name and pulled him closer, snaking his own hips beneath Snape to rub his erection against him, making himself moan.

Snape could not resist Lupin's moaning any more than he could resist his touch, and ground himself across Lupin's cock teasingly then moved himself between Lupin's legs and opening them wide as he lowered himself once more to kiss and suck on Lupin's chest whilst his fingers found Lupin's opening to prepare him. He groaned into the hollow of Lupin's neck, feeling him and hearing him moan to his touch, encouraging Snape to take him with his words and urgent hands upon his back. As Snape thrust into Lupin's eager but tight body, he could barely breathe, his desire was so strong and hot. Taking Lupin sharpened all Snape's senses exquisitely and yet clouded his mind in the same instant. His whole being became just his body's sensations and what he could make Lupin feel right then as he rolled his thrusts as slowly as he could, savouring the drawing friction on his cock and Lupin's whimpers and clasping hands as he nearly pulled out of him, but not quite and then gradually sped up his thrusts, creating delicious friction and heat that shocked his own senses, and hit against Lupin's prostate, making Lupin cry out with each thrust and as Snape grabbed Lupin's painfully hard cock in his hand to stroke him as hard as his thrusts had become.

Snape's blood was coursing loudly through his veins now, and his heart was beating too fast as he felt his orgasm rising, and cresting, and he could hold it no longer as he felt Lupin contract around him sharply as he came fiercely and they cried out together and Snape fell to the side of Lupin, as both struggled for the breath to tell the other of their love.

* * *

"So why is it that you think Harry is brewing Polyjuice Potion exactly?" Lupin asked, his small smile playing on his lips as they ate dinner.

"Far be it for me to know the mind of an idiot Gryffindor, Remus. You only have to look at the evidence: Potter used Gillyweed for the second task – the Gillyweed was taken from my store – I knew exactly how much I had and only enough for one hour had been taken. Boomslang Skin was also taken. This is an ingredient that's rarely used apart from Polyjuice Potion."

"And the Gillyweed was definitely taken at the same time as the Boomslang Skin?" Lupin asked.

"Well, it must have been," Snape said impatiently.

"But you don't know for sure?"

Snape had been about to argue, but no, he didn't know for sure. "That's neither here nor there, surely. Potter used the Gillyweed – that's not even up for debate, but it was the Boomslang Skin I noted in the break-in as it is so rare and valuable."

"Now, Severus," Lupin soothed, "I understand what you are saying, but I'm just not sure that because Harry may have been under his Invisibility Cloak on the night of the break-in that this fact alone assures he was the burglar. Now, don't tut," he said patiently, sitting back as Snape leant forward, ready to interrupt, "please listen."

Snape speared a piece of fish savagely. _What excuses now for the sainted whelp of Potter?_

"You see, what I don't understand is why Harry would take the egg on a burglary with him." Lupin was still sitting back in his chair and he let the statement hang in the air. Snape stopped eating. Indeed, it was a perfectly rational observation. Why on earth would he? The egg was large and heavy, cumbersome even. It would be nothing but an impediment to any act of stealth. Of course, he could have Levitated it and all manner of other spells, but, well, truly, the brat really wasn't that competent, in Snape's opinion. He felt a small fissure grow in his certainty.

Lupin had resumed eating his rare steak. "In honesty, Severus, Harry may well have been out of bounds, but I doubt he broke into your stores that night."

"And the Gillyweed?"

"Perhaps, a different outing. I know that doesn't absolve Harry, but something is off if you didn't notice the Gillyweed at the same time as the Boomslang Skin. You haven't noticed a second break-in?"

"No, and I strengthened the wards after the first break-in. I don't think Potter could have broken in again, and certainly not without my knowing."

"Curious, don't you think ..." Lupin said mildly.

"Well, it wasn't Filch. He's a Squib. There was no-one else around."

"No-one that you saw. They were obviously long gone before Moody got there .."

"Moody ..." Snape hissed quietly and his brow knotted. "You know, now I think about it, I never questioned why Moody was there. I was so distracted that he would use the break-in as an excuse to destroy my office again and then I saw the map and realised Potter was there." Snape inhaled sharply and pointed to Lupin in emphasis. "You know how far the Defence professor's quarters are from that staircase. In fact, he didn't come from that direction at all." His voice fell to a whisper as his eyes narrowed as he was thinking. "In fact, he came from the opposite dungeon corridor from my own. I thought that he had come because of his Dark detectors, but I wonder ..."

"Could he not have been on patrol?"

"No, he was in his night clothes."

"What use would Moody have for Polyjuice Potion?" Lupin wondered. "Although, I think Aurors use it quite often." He leant into Snape and touched his hand lightly. "Promise me you're not Alastor Polyjuiced," Lupin smirked.

"I sincerely hope you would have been able to tell this afternoon - I hope I am distinctive." Snape said, with one eyebrow raised and Lupin chuckled. "Besides, I think this is one tryst he would not wish to make, judging by his comments to me." They continued eating, turning things over.

"You don't think ... rather than being possessed ... it is someone else under Polyjuice?" Lupin asked softly.

"It would explain a great deal ..." Snape nodded slowly, the idea catching light, as the two started to speak more quickly.

"But, if it wasn't Alastor Moody I met at the Hog's Head, how would he know all those things about me?"

"Indeed, and I don't believe it's possible to be under Polyjuice for that amount of time .. seven mouths. He would be poisoned. Addled. For all that Moody is, he is as sharp as a tack and quite hale and hearty ... more's the pity."

"Could the Potion be modified for long-term use?"

"It hasn't been as far as I'm aware, and it would take a potioneer of some skill and ingenuity. I'm not sure I am aware of one whose loyalties lie with the Dark Lord or indeed of a Death Eater that would be available to such a long term assignment. I know where they all are." He took a sharp intake of breath over his teeth. "And why would a Polyjuiced follower be at Hogwarts in the guise of a Defence professor. For what purpose?" He slammed his open palm on the table, feeling so frustrated at the lack of clarity. "I feel the answer's close – but hidden from us and the more we try to reason it out, the more knotted the truth becomes."

"Do you think Harry's in danger?"

"If Moody were a Polyjuiced supporter of the Dark Lord, then he must be. Someone Confunded the Goblet of Fire to ensnare the boy in these dangerous tasks. But he has come to no harm so far. Moody has had plenty of opportunity to hurt the boy. His only object of enmity appears to be me and Karkaroff, which would be right for the real Moody. I confess, Remus, I'm at a loss." He exhaled and ran his hand across his mouth.

"I think a Polyjuiced Death Eater is probably a flight of fancy too far for both of us..." he said as he smiled weakly at Lupin, but his mind kept niggling at him that things were wrong, and he shouldn't leave it. He sighed heavily. Then he remembered. "Of course, what isn't a flight of fancy is that you returned that blasted map to Potter again."

"Yes, I gave it back to Harry when I left. Well, I was no longer a teacher at that point," Lupin said, a small, sad catch in his voice. "It was Harry's. Our legacy to him, if you will." He smiled at Snape. "I don't regret it."

Snape snorted. "If I see him with it, I _will_ confiscate it," Snape said, straightening in his chair and staring at Lupin in challenge.

"I would hope Harry has enough of his father's guile to ensure he is not caught!" Lupin said emphatically and smiled again.

"There's more than enough of his father in him," Snape grumbled. "Anyway, speaking of your little school friends, in your correspondence with Black, make sure you tell him to advise Potter to master defensive spells – Impeding, Stunning and Disarming and learn plenty of hexes too. He's a lot younger than the others – he's got a lot of ground to make up to get to the other champions' standards. He'll need to practise intensively before June if he's to make it through the last task."

"Why, Severus, you do care!" Lupin nudged Snape's hand teasingly and smiled broadly.

"Not in the least," Snape snapped, "but you have asked me to attend him for you. I am telling you how you may assist to do so." Snape stared intently at the remainder of his food, refusing to acknowledge his husband's knowing look. Or what his husband _thought_ he knew.

* * *


	44. Flights and Sensations

"Yes, I have all the ingredients ready. I start the first mix on Tuesday at dusk," Snape said.

"Are you excited?" Lupin cupped Snape's hand with his own and squeezed.

"I am. It is a difficult potion but I have seen it work. It will be uncomfortable at first, but it does not damage one internally, it just makes some changes. It goes without saying, the Dark Lord insisted on extensive testing to ensure his own safety." Snape's face became grim at the recollection.

"Why didn't you seek out the vampyr heart before to undertake the ritual?" Lupin asked.

"The Dark Lord forbade any one of us from undertaking the ritual. He alone wanted the ability to fly unaided. I always coveted it. After he fell, I don't believe I really thought on it; another life took me over. But then – when you started to run – I remembered it." Snape's look was distant, faraway. "Imagine, Remus – to be able to fly – no broom – imagine the freedom of it." Snape laughed softly. "I suppose you don't have to imagine – you know already what it will be like. When you run – you fly – you look so free." Snape stroked Lupin's face, and Lupin leaned into the touch so their foreheads touched.

"I would describe it to you, but I don't think I have the words." Lupin spoke softly, almost reverently, as he recalled. "When I ran with you up the slopes of Cadr Idris that time, for the first time in my life, for that night, being a wolf was the most wonderful thing I'd ever felt. I have the memory of it, but even that just cannot compare to living it. You could re-live it with me." Lupin tightened his grip on Snape's hand. "Not the transformation though ... never that ..."

Snape nodded, his throat dry in anticipation. It was long known amongst wizards that to legilimise an animal could mean being lost in its animalism. Wizards had been known to become so immersed in the alien animal instincts that they lost the sense of themselves and became unable to leave the animal's mind. Their consciousness would die within the animal, their bodies, as if Kissed by a Dementor, left behind.

But Lupin was human, and his mind when he ran was human, but the power ... that power and the senses would be all wolf.

_Legilimens._

It became easier each time to slip into Lupin's mind. This time, the first since their bonding, his passage into Lupin's consciousness was instant and smooth. He felt Lupin's mind envelope him in love. It always warmed him so totally.

"Remus," his mind murmured.

"Severus. I think ... I recall ... the time when my blood started to course. You opened the door to let me run and I smelt the mountain air ... it was fresh, crisp, ozone ..."

... _crisp, ozone, astringent, searing past the numerous receptors, so many more than usual, each like a small assault in Snape's mind, making his senses smart with the sharpness, mammals scurrying in the undergrowth and underground, larger mammals over ground, each type known by its smell, each animal identified and catalogued within a instant to be healthy or unhealthy, fit to eat or not. Hearing the sounds of their paws or claws and hooves scrabbling in the gorse. Smelling and identifying birds in flight, smelling their flight – how their wings disrupt their scent in the air and how the swoop of their wings sounds as if it were amplified. Edibility assessed and catalogued, all automatically by the body, by the instinct, yet he is assessing the assessment – the assessment that makes his consciousness giddy with sensory information he has never had before and he has no idea what to do with._

_He is reeling with it, almost drunk with it, but his excitement mounting. His limbs ache in anticipation. His hind legs are twitching. The muscles are flexing under the hair. They tremble with want and urgency. They need – oh they need to run – to run fast – to run hard – to feel the mountain under the paws and the mountain air rushing into his lungs._

_His heart – it is strong – for the first time ever, he feels it is a muscle – well-developed. It is – powerful. It is the engine waiting to pump the blood to the muscles in his lungs, in his legs – yearning to run! It builds and it builds. The tremors in his legs reminding – no begging him – to run._

_He is trotting, Severus flying above. His human mind looks for Severus – he is above, he is to the side, he is at the other side. His human mind laughs wildly and it translates as joyful barking. They are running together: a wolf and his mate._

_He is loping now, his gait is wide, he feels the muscles flex and pull, the tendons pistoning the bones as he picks up speed, his senses still assailed by all he smells and hears._

_And what does he see? It is full moonrise, so less colour than daylight, but he knows anyway that his perception of colour – it is different. Less colour, but the contrast of things is more delineated, sharpened, focused more tightly than he could ever remember. Details of all things, the gorse, the scree, each minute thing defined with ultimate definition, his mind wants to explore – to use these acute senses of smell, taste and hearing, but this body – it must run!_

_His pads hit the scree of the mountainside as his leg muscles now pump and piston, out and in, and his heart! Oh that magnificent heart, it pumps powerfully sending blood coursing to replenish his muscles so they flex and pump harder as he climbs the incline of the mountain, the flank pushing out as the forepaws push away and the shoulder muscles contract and stretch. He was powering along now at full hunting sprint, the wind carding through his hair. Fast – so fast. Thirty, thirty five miles per hour. How could he bear it! Stretched, pulled, pumped, joyous. Magnificent. Smells, sights, sounds, touch, taste, wind, muscles, blood – all flooding into his brain – requiring assessment – assessment the human mind simply isn't capable of. Giving up. Giving in. Just allowing the wolf's sensations to wash over his brain as he wallows, swims, drowns in sensations of the glorious wolf._

_He reaches the summit and howls to his mistress, the moon. The silvery, iridescent orb that controls his life: its light feels like sunlight on his pelt. It energises him. His body demands it! His human mind understands it. The howl starts resonating in his underbelly, up into his chest, and is torn from his larynx through his muzzle as an orgasm is torn from his human body and the noise resonates in his mask, thrummed through the bones of his face. It cannot be denied. It is the wolf's ejaculation of joy and of freedom; its signal of release. The release is enormous. There is nothing like it with which the man can compare it._

_His mind is reeling with his body's feeling. He howls again then he hears Severus whoop and watches Severus turn over his broom. He leaps on these fantastically muscled hind legs to catch Severus as he flies out of the path of his leap. He leaps again to catch Severus, he feels the love and the joy in the leap as well as the strength and the adrenaline. He leaps over and over again at Severus, but the air is changing. The moon has passed its apex. His muscles and his heart – they want to run._

_Each muscle tenses and then pistons as he tears of down the mountainside towards the lake, faster now on the downward trail, but still completely in control of his descent. The body has perfect confidence and assurance in its ability. There is nothing tentative in his stride as he races and chases Severus on the broom down to the lake's edge._

Snape thought his mind and body could bear no more. It was so intense. Snape inhaled hugely, trying to calm his own hammering heart and trembling limbs.

"There are no words ..." Lupin thought.

"None ... not one," Snape agreed, his mind and body still reeling, as he slipped out of Lupin's mind.

Eyes still locked, Lupin took Snape by his arms and pushed him to the floor, both men fully aroused by the triumphant animal they'd experienced together. Snape, burning with desire, bared his neck because only that would be appropriate after that recollection and Lupin groaned deeply, grasping Snape's shoulders, grinding his hips to Snape's as he tongued the Claiming bite urgently and, sense by sense, Snape lost himself to bliss.

* * *

It was odd to Snape to have Potions equipment set up in his drawing room to brew clandestinely. Of course, he would have to ensure that the Miasma Dispelling Charms were renewed at every mix and brew as he didn't want Potion miasmata drifting to him whilst he slept. The Flight Potion in particular would be quite noxious at one stage of its brewing.

He began to prepare the ingredients for the Flight Potion: thirty two separate ingredients for the first stage brew – each to be shredded, mashed, juiced, chopped, crushed, grated, diced or sliced. If he recalled correctly (and how would he ever forget it), the preparation alone would take three hours until the first mix. He had eaten in his rooms before starting. There would be no attendance at dinner tonight.

As he prepared, he pondered how it was he came to be preparing a noxious Potion in his own living quarters - as good as in hiding. Normally, he wouldn't countenance such an idea, but he found the atmosphere so inimical to him, between Moody and Dumbledore, that he wanted neither Potion discovered by either man.

There was nothing intrinsically Dark about the Flight Potion, but he was jealous of it. As jealous as the Dark Lord had been of it. Perhaps, one day, when the Dark Lord was defeated, he would publish it. Perhaps. But for now, it was just for them. It was accompanied by a blood ritual, but only the blood of the person wanting to fly. It wasn't that it was a Dark Potion, but it had the _feel_ of it, although he didn't know why.

It went without saying that if either Moody or Dumbledore found he was brewing an _Electio_ Potion for a werewolf, of course they would assume it was for him and he was confident that even if he put them under the Cruciatus curse, they would not be dissuaded it was for his own use: Dumbledore, because the man was cretinously romantic and Moody, because he thought Snape was a "breeder" anyway. However, if he was successful in this one, he would publish. All his refinements for Wolfsbane were published and had received academic acclaim and assured his professional reputation. And come July, his vested interest in werewolf welfare would be a matter of public record, for all to know.

This event charged him every time he thought of it – when his husband would finally be home with him. The recollection of Lupin taking him so forcefully after they shared the memory of the wolf running flashed across his mind, and his groin and stomach clenched painfully in desire as he recalled how fiercely they had made love, and how triumphant their release had been. It almost made his knees weak to recall it and he momentarily stopped grating the shrivelfig as he regained his equilibrium. He hated their separation; hated that they crammed in everything they could into a day, maybe two if they were lucky, once a month, and what they could with the mirrors.

It was never enough.

Lupin's contract with Gringott's finished in mid-May. Snape had found a flat near Diagon Alley on a short term tenancy for Lupin to use until their registration formalities had been completed. Lupin was hopeful that he had impressed Gringott's enough that they might find uses for him on a freelance basis, based in London. Of course, Snape would visit, and his visits could be more regular – daily if he could manage it, but he couldn't stay every night because he was Head of House. It would only be six weeks from mid-May until term finished at the beginning of July – just six weeks. He was counting the days.

ooo000ooo

It was a dark and dangerous dream – full of menace and meaning. Snape had struggled to wake up. Something critical had stirred in his memory during the dream. In all the preparation of ingredients this evening, culminating in the shredding of the vampyr's desiccated heart, something had awoken a remembrance of something smelt – smelt when he was in Lupin's mind looking at the meeting with Moody - scents identified – so near – ah! – just out of reach - damn – it was on the tip of his tongue ... but then it dissipated with the dream. Crucial, but gone, like smoke.

ooo000ooo

The April full moon fell on the Saturday of the Easter weekend. He had been surprised that Dumbledore had agreed to his having the extended four day weekend holiday with Lupin. He suspected some guilt on Dumbledore's part. If they had had their way, Lupin would be staying in Snape's quarters and attending meals in the Great Hall with him as his husband for this holiday, and Snape wouldn't need to leave the castle. However, since they had agreed with Dumbledore's request not to register their bonding until after the summer term, it really was the least Dumbledore could do, Snape felt.

* * *

It was dusk the day after the full moon. Snape produced the gold flask containing the Flight Potion and poured it equally between two bejewelled goblets on the table by the French windows. He then brought out his silver ceremonial dagger knife (the handle sheathed in goatskin) and Lupin produced his own diamond knife. Lupin and Snape stood facing each other and each held the other's upper arm and kissed as their hands traced down each other's arms to their hands and they turned their left palms upwards. They took each other's knives: Snape took the diamond knife and Lupin took the silver dagger and they cut into each other's palms and each released their blood into the goblet nearest to him and stirred the hissing Potion with the other's knife. Then setting down the knives, they collected their wands, holding them high, mirrors of each other, and they spoke the incantation as they performed the intricate casting over the Potions before them.

The Potions hissed and bubbled. The incantation complete, each man drank then fell to their knees as their stomachs clenched and their lungs burned. Gasping for breath, each man on his hands and knees, put their hands to their throats as they burned and coughed, almost feeling suffocated, until their breathing calmed and their lungs and stomachs eased. They helped each other to stand, steadying themselves against each other, their breathing becoming deeper and deeper still as if their lung capacities had increased immensely. Each breath became longer and deeper, slowing by increments until one breath swelled the lungs hugely and the chest expanded pushing the upper arms out.

They both whispered the only incantation they would now ever need for this: _Fugere_.

Snape felt it then, as Lupin undoubtedly did too: the instinct to open their arms which felt as if they were magically extended out into articulated wings, punctuated by dozens of joints. He could feel them, although nothing was visible. Snape felt the magical wings fold and rotate and envelope him as he focused on them and saw the same expression on Lupin's face. He focused on feeling the rotation of those joints and the folding of the wing's membrane and practised this until they felt under his control; until he could feel he could control the momentum. His eyes were closed now as he concentrated on the motion of the wings that could not be seen. He could feel the wings' flexible skin surface curve inward now, starting to feel the generation of lift and the magical wings gracefully swooped to create a vortex in the up stroke. He felt the lift as the wings stroked in towards his body, gracefully swooping out again as he lifted further up.

Like all dearest wishes, he was afraid to open his eyes in case he was misled, but he plucked up the courage to do so, and saw he was several feet off the floor – he and Lupin both, grinning stupidly at each other. Concentrating harder, he found he could sweep his wings ever faster so gaining lift. Now watching Lupin, they both encouraged each other to lift higher. To fly over these ancient forests, they would need to be high indeed.

"I don't think I've found anything this difficult to master since I first tried Apparition, and splinched part of my foot!" Lupin cried, although now hovering ten feet from the ground.

Snape snorted. "At least I got to see that not having the tip of my nose wasn't perhaps the attractive enhancement I might have wished for!" Snape recalled. "But I'm nothing if not stubborn, and you'd give me a run for my money when it comes to obstinacy. At least we should try to make the forest itself today!" Snape challenged.

He concentrated on swooping the wings faster and faster still and suddenly, he felt the vortex generated by upstroke bite and he had it at last – forward momentum – he swooped the wings again and, like a fledging bird, he started to move forwards albeit rather clumsily in his maiden flight. Not long after, came Lupin, undoubtedly spurred on by Snape's success.

As Snape accustomed himself to manoeuvring his magical wings, he managed to increase his speed until he had lifted himself high above the forest canopy and Lupin was now gaining on him as they both found their confidence with the new ability.

As if a revelation, their dogged perseverance paid off, and they were in full flight above the forest tree tops, wings flexing and swooping, they swooped around each other, not yet confident enough to reverse and loop, but just enough to chase each other to increase their speed, although not to fully release as too much concentration was needed to adjust to magical wings and their control. Up and on they sped, over the tree tops, now learning to swoop down and up, gaining height then slowing and lowering, then gaining height again, traversing the tree tops, not experienced enough yet to take in all the sounds and sights, still novices, but they would practise and they would perfect it. After hours in the air, and tired and aching, they flew back towards the retreat, gradually slowing.

And they landed – possibly not the most fluid or elegant of landings just before their terrace - but safe and solid and awe-struck by what they had accomplished on their first flight.

Breathless with triumph, exhilaration and wonder, they stumbled into their room, arms around each other's shoulders, and Snape fetched the Firewhiskey from the drinks cabinet and they toasted their success.

"I would imagine, Severus, that if you or I were to wear a travelling cloak whilst flying, we could easily be taken for vampires or overgrown bats," Lupin laughed.

"Just my robe normally achieves the same effect, I find," Snape said, smirking.

By the third glass, Snape had undressed them both and they were kissing passionately then bruisingly on the bed, physically and mentally excited, overwrought and painfully aroused once more as their hands grasped each other urgently and they rolled each other over, straddling the other in turn, still twisting over and over until they faced each other on their sides, each grasping the other's cock firmly whilst their free hands searched each other's opening, moaning in each other's mouths as they excited each other with thrusting fingers and firm grips stroking, neither conceding yet who would take the other.

However it was to be this night, it would not be tender whilst their excitement still coursed hard in their veins and magic coruscated across their skins heightening every sensation.

Eventually, as they writhed against each other, Snape, so empowered by his magic and magnified by the success of it, pinned Lupin, growling, "Let me!" as his fingers thrust hard into Lupin's now slick opening making him cry out as tendrils of Snape's magic shocked Lupin's prostate, and Snape turned him quickly onto his stomach and thrust into him hard with low grunt, holding Lupin's shoulders down. Lupin managed to get himself onto his knees allowing Snape deeper access, making Snape groan loudly as he thrust into Lupin hot, slick muscle, with grating friction and searing magic along his cock, making them both burn.

Lupin groaned with enhanced pleasure and climbed the wall so he was braced against it as Snape insistently thrust hard into him making the angle to his sweet spot easier to hit, Snape's passion white hot now as he held Lupin, his left arm tightly around his hip, holding the inside of his thigh as his right hand grabbed his cock once more to stroke him in time whilst he drove deeper and harder into Lupin's sweet, tight muscle. Snape's hips were moving fluidly now as he rolled into Lupin, as he sucked and bit on his neck as he listened to Lupin's moans of pleasure mounting as Snape thrust hard until he reached a fervent rhythm against the thrilling reverberation of their magic in their cores, and Lupin pushed back with urgency as his groans became louder and his arms trembled until Snape's mind began to unravel as Lupin cried out Snape's name repeatedly and he came fiercely under Snape's hand and he clenched hard around Snape's cock so he lost his rhythm. Snape's orgasm pitched and peaked and it astounded him with its strength. He held Lupin tightly around his waist as he emptied into him, groaning loudly, Lupin holding his arms until they collapsed on the bed, entirely spent.

Both men lay side to side, panting and stunned by their success and their passion, the tips of their fingers just touching as the final, small sparks of magic died away.

"How far will we push our magic together, Severus?" Lupin rasped, still breathing heavily.

"We've got the moon and the sky. Together, Remus, I think as far as we want."

ooo000ooo

It was a dark and dangerous dream – full of menace and meaning. Snape had struggled to wake up. Something critical had stirred in his memory during the dream. He knew he'd had this dream before – it kept recurring. He knew he needed to identify a scent - a scent masked by another. It was important. But it was out of his reach – so near – but always moving away every time he got near. But it was on the tip of his tongue ... but now it dissipated with the dream. What was he missing? It was tormenting him.

* * *


	45. Everything Must Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes from Chapters 28, 35 and 36 of GoF are in bold and © J.K. Rowling

The May full moon was their last at the retreat. When they met in the clearing, Snape said his goodbyes. He already had the contact details for Amelie and Jasper as their potion was now underway. He wondered if he and Lupin would ever know an ancient forest quite like this one, or know again how it would feel to congregate under the moon with a pack. He wouldn't have thought that he would care and surprised himself that he found that he did.

oooOOOooo

The following weekend, he met Lupin outside Gringotts as he returned now his contract in Egypt had finished. Gringotts had taken Lupin on as a freelance researcher, and their future was looking brighter. As Lupin approached Snape, Snape was struck how healthy he looked: so much more so than when he first saw him last year: less worn and tired, well fed, not so shabby. Snape was sure that Lupin being able to run with the moon and embracing those parts of his lupine nature in the Claim, not to mention steady work and income had wrought this tremendous improvement. He was deeply pleased. He remembered how his affection had started to blossom for Lupin in wanting to protect him. He hoped he had a small part to play in Lupin's improved health. He hoped so, and he hoped further improvement would come.

One obstacle now loomed for them, and it was something Snape had put off thinking about for so long. But now Lupin was back to stay, he would be contacting Black to see him. Snape found he was anxious about it. He still desperately didn't want to share Lupin with Black, but knew he had to. He didn't want Black knowing about them, and this seemed to upset Lupin the most: Snape's need to keep their commitment to each other away from his childhood friend. Snape had no doubt at all that Black would loathe their partnership and would do everything in his power to split them up. He felt he understood a part of Black's nature that Lupin was blind to: that part that was Black – that was pure Slytherin in Gryffindor colours. He didn't want Black in their home, but how could he prevent it? When he wasn't with Lupin, it vexed him. It was a dark cloud on their horizon that he desperately hoped he and Lupin would overcome – but he had doubts. It even troubled him that he had doubts.

Snape took Lupin to the flat he had found for them just off Diagon Alley. It was above _Scribbulus Writing Instruments_. Snape had chosen it for its comfort and elegant furnishings. It was to be their first marital home, albeit for a short while. He had filled the kitchen with the foods he knew Lupin liked the best, and made sure it was well stocked with butterbeer and Firewhiskey.

Snape had bought new bed clothes for the large, firm divan - crisp white cotton sheets and lush blankets and a satin counterpane, and had drawn back the bed covers, ready for them. He was nervous. Why; he did not know, but he was. This was finally the start of their life together. Lupin seemed to sense Snape's nervousness as they settled Lupin into the flat. Once unpacked, he led Snape to the bedroom and undressed him tenderly.

"Severus, we have all the time in the world now. Let's take our time," he murmured into Snape's mouth and he kissed him softly and played with his hair as they stood facing each other. Snape's arms rested on Lupin's hips and he felt his chest constrict as his desire ignited. Lupin caught Snape's bottom lip gently and Snape kissed him back just as slowly and languidly, knowing how Lupin wanted this to be for their first time in their flat. Standing together, they brushed each other's skin to ignite it, on their stomachs and chests, their backs and necks and lightly playing with the tips of each other's erections, making each other gasp, as they lowered themselves onto the crisp white sheets, cool against their energised skin, still feathering kisses on each other's mouths and necks.

Lupin laid Snape down gently and hovered over him, kissing his chest and stomach as his hands roved more firmly along his arms and down his chest and stomach, making Snape's skin prickle and raise to his touch, making him arch and sigh as Lupin stroked Snape's sides as Lupin's mouth found Snape's erection and licked it in the way Snape adored. He groaned loudly as Lupin flicked his tongue firmly along Snape's cock and then ran his teeth along his length, Snape's breath now hitching as he held onto Lupin's hair until his hot mouth engulfed him, and a low moan escaped his throat as his hot desire swelled and throbbed insistently, and Lupin sucked on him greedily as Snape writhed and threw his head back as Lupin brought him to his orgasm and drained him as he came, crying out Lupin's name in his rapture.

Lupin pulled himself up over Snape once more, his hand moving between Snape's legs, making Snape gasp again as his fingers moved inside Snape who, already slick from his orgasm, spread his legs wide to receive his husband, his throat once again obstructed, as Lupin covered him and pushed into him gently, slowly, taking as much time as he could, drawing low moans from Snape at the feel of Lupin's cock inside him, languorously moving inside him, friction of the gentlest type slowly reigniting his hot desire as he wrapped his legs around Lupin's waist to draw him in deeper. _Soon this would be his whenever they wanted. Soon. They had all the time in the world,_ he kept thinking and even that thought made his groin throb harder as Lupin's cock drew on it, still slowly, the equal and insistent gentle rhythm almost hypnotising Snape as Lupin never took his eyes from Snape's own, seemingly drinking in every moan Snape made to the deep, thrilling thrusts.

"I love you, oh Remus," Snape gasped as he started to feel his orgasm building once more. Lupin groaned deeply as he pushed into Snape faster now, and leant in kiss him, their tongues swirling around each other's, not roughly, but longingly and searchingly, attenuating their passion, until Snape found he could hold on no longer as his orgasm started to blaze through him and he arched sinuously under Lupin, who released powerfully into him, Snape's name babbling from his lips in his cries.

_Whenever we want,_ Snape thought through his haze of utter satisfaction, _all the time in the world._

* * *

It was a dark and dangerous dream – full of menace and meaning. Something critical had stirred in his memory during the dream. This was his recurring dream. He knew he needed to identify a scent - a scent masked by another. It was important. Always just drifting out of reach. He'd reach the answer, but it would be whipped away again. This night, he'd almost shouted it out but in an instant, it was gone. He felt distress. He needed to recall it. His life depended on it. Lupin's life depended on it. He felt fear rising in his soul. He awoke trembling.

oooOOOooo

He didn't really know what he made of what had just happened. He had just been leaving the spiral staircase to Dumbledore's office when he saw Potter **running as fast as he could toward the staircase –**

' **POTTER!'** he shouted, to stop the boy in his tracks, clearly up to no good.

The boy **skidded to a halt and looked around.** Really, the boy was a buffoon.

**He beckoned** Potter **back towards him. 'What are you doing here, Potter?'**

' **I need to see Professor Dumbledore!' said** the boy **, running back up the corridor and skidding to a standstill in front of Snape instead. '... he's just turned up ... he's in the Forest ... he's asking –'**

' **What is this rubbish?' said Snape, his black eyes glittering. 'What are you talking about?'** The boy was making no sense. Who was he talking about?

Potter **shouted. 'From the Ministry! He's ill or something – he's in the Forest, he wants to see Dumbledore! Just give me the password up to –'**

' **The Headmaster is busy, Potter,' said Snape, his thin mouth curling into an unpleasant smile.** He really had no time for Potter's inane babbling, and he was sure Dumbledore wouldn't either. Why he was appearing to panic, when he plainly didn't have anything to say, Snape couldn't understand. He was just attention-seeking, as always.

' **Look,' said** the brat **angrily, '... he's – he's out of his mind – he says he wants to warn –'**

**The stone wall behind Snape slid open. Dumbledore was standing there, wearing long green robes and a mildly curious expression.**

' **Is there a problem?' he said, looking between** Potter **and Snape.**

' **Professor!'** Potter **said, side-stepping Snape before Snape could speak. '... – he's down in the Forest, he wants to speak to you!'** Well, what _was_ the boy going on about?

' **Lead the way,'** Dumbledore **said promptly, and he swept off along the corridor behind** the boy **, leaving Snape** wondering why Dumbledore would take the brat seriously when he was just babbling **.** _Bloody Gryffindors._

He found out later that evening that Potter and Krum had seen some Ministry official but, really, Snape didn't understand why anyone would think it important just because a Ministry official was here. He could swear Dumbledore was becoming more fey this year. He dismissed it from his mind.

oooOOOooo

The June full moon: Snape and Lupin stayed in their flat. They made love, Lupin transformed peacefully and without injury, they slept and made love again in the morning. In its way, it was their most beautiful full moon – it was their most peaceful in their new and hopeful life.

oooOOOooo

Once again, Snape was astonished that so many people had pressed to sit in the stands for this final task. There would be nothing to see except the winner at the end. He supposed it was so people could claim to have been there when _so-and-so_ won the first Triwizard Tournament since 1792. Ludo Bagman was doing his best to commentate when there was nothing to see by taking the spectators and radio audience through the types of challenges that the champions faced and Filius conjured some magical representations of the creatures to illustrate. Only the eventual retrieval of Miss Delacour and Krum provided anything to see. Snape switched off and let his mind wander.

He was always rather impressed with himself that he could retain such a composed exterior whilst thinking quite horrendously lascivious thoughts as he was currently having about Lupin, and what he wanted to do to him when he got back to the flat when all this nonsense had finished. Lupin was waiting up for him: they had already arranged it. He fantasised about how he would like to take him, in quite extraordinary detail. The question was where. Where hadn't he had Lupin yet ? He was cataloguing the settings, deciding on the state of undress, imaging Lupin's beautifully pornographic noises he made when Snape entered him, all whilst managing to sit ramrod straight with no expression on his face whatsoever. Luckily his robe was heavy and full, for there was one part of himself over which he could exercise no such control.

His pleasingly lewd reverie was broken when a golden fountain of sparks erupted from the centre of the maze. Dumbledore flashed a smile to the staff that this was the magical cue that the cup had been claimed! Now the question was: Diggory or Potter? Snape hoped against hope it was Diggory. Potter as Triwizard Champion was more than he could bear and Lupin would be beside himself with pride. Snape sighed with weary resignation. _Still, on the plus side, Remus always enjoyed celebrating physically so perhaps it wasn't all bad._ Snape's mouth twitched at the corners.

Dumbledore cast the charm that opened the maze so the centre, and therefore the winner, would be revealed. With the type of showmanship that only Dumbledore seemed to muster, the heavily wooded maze began to disintegrate and pull back to leave a grand entrance all the way to the centre, the sides lighting up with stardust, fireflies and pixie lights. Snape and Minerva caught each other's look, Minerva's lips thin in scorn whilst Snape rolled his eyes.

Dumbledore and the other judges strode down the conifer corridor of stardust, fire flies and pixie lights and the teachers followed, with the press. But the centre was empty. Neither Diggory nor Potter was there and the Triwizard Cup was gone! The party stopped as if frozen. How could this be? Each person started to look about themselves, wondering if one of the creatures had made off with all three. But that couldn't be: each was enchanted by Dumbledore and Filius not to perpetrate any serious attack upon a contestant.

They started to cast revealing and location charms, but there wasn't even a trace of either boy or the cup. They broke up and started down different paths of the maze chanting their charms, but calling the boys' names too. Dumbledore and Snape set off down one path: _Harry Potter revelio – Cedric Diggory revelio_ – nothing.

Suddenly, Snape was stopped in his tracks: an intense pain fried his very nerve endings, seemingly melting through his layers of skin to his bones. Snape's body lurched with shock and pain, and he gasped audibly. His pain-filled eyes found Dumbledore's.

"It burns!" he hissed to the wide-eyed man, grasping his Dark Mark along with the horror of its meaning. "He's back."

Dumbledore turned around swiftly now, chanting revealing and tracing incantations for Potter and Diggory more urgently.

Snape quickly cast his eye to the judges behind them: Karkaroff stared back, his eyes watering, and then he turned quickly and was gone. Snape had no doubt that Karkaroff would be true to his word and would now flee. The Dark Lord would find him and kill him: it wasn't even up for question.

Snape steadied his breathing and pulled himself upright with effort, although his arm burnt as if it were a flaming torch. He felt sweat break out all over his body as he Occluded deeper to numb the pain of the summons. Every minute he was late would be added to his torture later: this he knew.

More stable now, he re-joined the search for Potter and Diggory by all the teachers in the centre of the maze. He heard Minerva, her voice strained, "Filius has found the trace of a Portkey," and then she demanded of Dumbledore, "how was it even possible for them to have been transported away, Albus? What of the school's protective enchantments?" _What of them indeed,_ Snape thought. Only a teacher or Dumbledore himself could activate a Portkey within the castle grounds. Snape felt sick with pain and mounting terror.

That foreboding tug he'd felt with his recurring dream was tugging at his mind now. He knew now it was something to do with the Dark Lord: how could it not be? Time passed, the teachers searched and the spectators grew more and more agitated and were starting to stream into the maze to see what was happening. There were no explanations.

Without warning, a flash appeared near the Cup podium, and all three were returned: Diggory and Potter, holding the Cup. The Cup was the Portkey. There was **a torrent of sound ... there were voices everywhere, footsteps, screams ...** Snape couldn't believe his eyes. Diggory was dead, clutched to Potter tightly. Potter was filthy, his dirty face tear stained as he **seized Dumbledore's wrist.** What Snape heard next froze his blood, even though he now knew it.

' **He's back,'** the boy **whispered. 'He's back. Voldemort.'**

Voldemort had used the boy to come back that much was obvious. Then Fudge came along and all hell was let loose. The word spread amongst the assembled crowd and up to the stands that Diggory was dead – **gasped it to those around them ... and then others shouted it – screeched it – into the night – 'He's dead!' 'He's _dead!'_ 'Cedric Diggory! _Dead!_ ' **He never thought he'd see such scenes at this school. Merlin knew he had seen such scenes of terror when he was a Death Eater, participating in atrocities, leaving families screaming with grief. He never thought to witness it again, and certainly never here. He busied himself trying to corral the students back to the stands as Fudge berated Dumbledore, and Diggory's father made his way down from the stands, looking frantic, and yet disbelieving.

Dumbledore intercepted Diggory, and Snape moved away, not wanting to hear what he knew was coming; what he had heard so many times before; what he had even caused. As he moved gawking children back, he heard it – the disbelieving keening and hitching of breath that inexorably became the wailing lament of the parent whose child had been wrested from it. No other sound epitomised grief so profoundly; well, none that he had ever heard.

"Severus! Minerva!" Dumbledore snapped. "Where is Harry? I told him to stay here." Dumbledore looked around himself wildly.

"Alastor took him to the hospital ward," Minerva said.

"Come with me!" Dumbledore ordered and sped away as if he were a fraction of his age.

"What is it, Albus? What is troubling you?" Minerva gabbled as she struggled to keep up with Dumbledore and Snape's long strides.

"The length of the apology I owe Severus!" Dumbledore snapped. Snape almost stopped in his tracks, until he realised the enormity of what he had just heard. Dumbledore was acknowledging that Moody wasn't Moody. _Then who was he? Oh, but you know don't you?_ his mind said slyly. He felt something shift heavily in his mind. That nagging nightmare he'd been having. Then he knew: a Memory Charm had been worked on him and his own mind was trying to break it.

"What do you mean?" Minerva gasping, struggling to keep up.

"Severus has been trying to tell me for months that something was wrong with Alastor. I have not listened. But Alastor would not have taken Harry away from me when I said not to. He simply would not have done it." Snape wanted to feel vindicated; he wanted to crow that he had been right all along. He found his victory tasted of dust. The Dark Lord had returned – there could be no victory in that.

Snape could feel Dumbledore becoming enraged. His was restraining his magic, and Snape could feel it. "Albus," Snape ventured quietly, "I can feel a Memory Charm." Dumbledore and Minerva both stopped immediately, then Dumbledore nodded vehemently.

"I will see to it as soon as we have found Harry. Come!"

The door to the Defence against the Dark Arts office was barred. That was an irrelevance to Albus Dumbledore. He cast _Bombarda_ against the door whilst he simultaneously cast _Stupefy_.

**There was a blinding flash of red light, and with a great splintering and crashing, the door of Moody's office was blasted apart –**

**Moody was thrown backwards onto the office floor** , unconscious. Dumbledore flicked him over onto his back. Minerva tried to take Potter to the hospital wing, but Dumbledore would not allow it.

' **He will stay, Minerva, because he needs to understand,' said Dumbledore curtly. 'Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery. He needs to know who has put him through the ordeal he has suffered tonight, and why."** Snape sneered. He doubted every word of it. Understanding could wait – treatment should be first.

Dumbledore explained to the boy that the real Alastor Moody would not have removed him from Dumbledore's sight and then removed and smelt Moody's hip flask. The shift in Snape's mind moved again. The Memory Charm was breaking and Snape was doing his best to assist the break.

" **Severus, please fetch me the strongest Truth Potion you possess, and then go down to the kitchens, and bring up the house-elf called Winky. Minerva, kindly go down to Hagrid's house, where you will find a large black dog sitting in the pumpkin patch. Take the dog up to my office, tell him I will be with him shortly, then come back here.'**

Snape and Minerva left them and immediately parted their ways as Snape headed to the dungeons to his Potion stores. His mind was buzzing with everything that had happened, but more so with trying to identify the memory that had been charmed – he knew it started like that recurring dream. He obtained the Veritaserum then went to his quarters and called Lupin through the mirror.

"Severus, what has happened? Harry? Is Harry all right?" Lupin cried, obviously having heard of Diggory's death on wizarding radio.

"He's very shaken. I've yet to hear fully what happened." Snape inhaled deeply. "Remus. Listen to me carefully," he said firmly as Lupin started to ask a stream of questions.

"The Dark Lord has returned. The Mark burned tonight. I have been summoned."

"Severus, no!" Lupin whispered in shock, his face draining of colour. "You must not go."

"If Albus asks it, I must."

"No, Severus!" Lupin snapped. "Why must you? Why should Dumbledore tell you to? I don't wish you to." Lupin's voice was rising now, with fear and anger. "You mustn't!"

"Because it is my function: I am Dumbledore's spy. I have vowed it. I cannot renege." Snape's voice had become dry and small. He had never had that discussion with Dumbledore about what would happen to him and Lupin when the Dark Lord returned. And now it was upon them. "You would not renege if it were your vow. You know you wouldn't."

Lupin's shoulders slumped. "You're right. I know you are. How will you stay safe?"

"You must trust me on it, Remus. I know what I am doing." Snape tried to sound confident. He was terrified. It was his nightmare come true.

"Severus," Lupin said weakly, his eyes shining. "I love you. Please don't go."

"I will be back, I promise," Snape said, running a finger along the mirror. "I love you too."

He swiftly left his chambers, and then braced himself against the corridor wall, trying to catch his breath to steady himself. He would be sent back. He knew he would be. He had to Occlude: properly and deeply. He had to bury all traces of his beautiful Lupin from the madman. He could not risk him finding even a shred of their passion. He had not gone immediately to the summons – he would be tested – torture by Cruciatus and Legilimency. His Occlumency was more important now than ever. As he made his way to the kitchens, he concentrated and rebuilt with every step he took, rebuilding all the barriers he and Lupin had torn down so liberally between them.

* * *

Snape **returned with Winky at his heels. Professor McGonagall was right behind them.**

" **Crouch!" Snape said, stopping dead in the doorway. "Barty Crouch!"**

And seeing Barty Crouch, the Memory Charm snapped fully and he remembered it all.

_On the night he started the mix for the Flight Potion, he had awoken suddenly to a recollection, a knowledge, a certainty – when he had been in Lupin's mind – he'd identified iron, fluxweed and antimony and there were other smells that wouldn't come to him because of the masking smell of coal tar. He knew them now: Lacewing Fly and Boomslang Skin. Lupin and he had been right. He threw off his covers and dressed quickly. He had to see Albus – right now. He grabbed his wand and swooped out of his quarters, striding, almost a lope, out from the dungeons, into the entrance hall ..._

_BAM!_

_He was awakened and quickly cast his eyes around to see his situation. Bound to a chair. In the Defence against the Dark Arts office. Moody. Polyjuice! They had known it. Who then?_

" _Well, Severus ..." He knew the voice, but he hadn't heard it for so many years. Its owner came into his view._

" _Barty Crouch! But you're ... dead," he finished feebly, knowing the foolishness of what he had just uttered._

" _Clearly not," the blond man sneered. "Too long a story to tell. But clearly not. I suppose you're wondering how I did it," Crouch said, his eyes gleaming maniacally._

" _Modified Polyjuice," Snape hissed, taking in the clothes Crouch was wearing. Moody's clothes. They had known. They had worked out, and then dissuaded themselves until this night when Snape remembered that smell. But he never would have thought of Barty Crouch. He was supposed to have died in Azkaban. Barty Crouch Junior, Ravenclaw, brilliant and powerfully magical like his father. Remarkably good at Potions, Snape recalled sourly._

" _What made you suspicious of me?" Crouch asked innocently._

" _Your behaviour. Moody may be a mad bastard, but your prejudices – they're all Death Eater," Snape sneered. Barty Crouch was a true pureblood, but not a Slytherin – oh no. A Ravenclaw - he was clever, but repressed and utterly in his driven father's shadow. No aristocratic tendencies for Barty – even as a Death Eater, he'd made plain he thought the Malfoys of this world besmirched the honour of pureblood society with their deviant sexual tendencies, doubtless drilled into him by his father's quest to become Minister for Magic. One would never know to look at the innocent exterior of Barty Crouch Junior just how intolerant and extreme a young man could be._

" _Perhaps I pushed at you too hard, eh? Made you enquire too much. Possibly," Crouch said contemplatively. "Well, boyo," he lapsed into Moody's mannerisms seeming so odd against the blond blue-eyed still relatively young face, "I have a prize to seek and I can't have you interfering. Not when we're so near." He became himself again. "Luckily, I had Potter's map. Very useful for watching where you were going. When I saw you leaving your quarters tonight, not your patrol night, I thought I'd best intercept you. Well, I was right about that, wasn't I?. You could have undermined a whole lot of planning. Now we're so very close ... then, oh yes, then... we'll see where your loyalties lie." He laughed, a bright, unhinged gleam shone in his eyes._

" _Well, your loyalties can't lie with the Dark Lord any more can they? Not now you've become half-breed-loving filth. What will the Dark Lord say when I tell him, hum? Find your dog wolf and torture him in front of you I shouldn't wonder. I can't have anything happen to you yet, as Dumbledore obviously expects me to respect your feelings," he snorted with derision. "So I can't risk exposure yet. I have my mission to fulfil. Then you'll die. What to do in the meantime..." Crouch stared at Snape for a long time, and then turned his back on him and started looking through a trunk. Suddenly, he spun round, Stunning him._

_As Snape was called to wakefulness, and opened his eyes, Couch yanked his hair back and in that same disorientating instant, locked eyes with him:_ Confundus. _"Just the mention of my name will confuse you utterly, Severus. You can never reach that conclusion about me again because you will never be able to focus on me or my name or think about Polyjuice in conjunction with me."_

Crucio! _Applied just long enough to make Snape breathless then:_ Obliviate _. He felt the Memory Charm working, gradually erasing the remembered scent and everything leading up to and including this meeting from his mind, even though he struggled and fought as hard as he was able, but he'd been too weakened by the successive spells._

_I've had that same dream ever since, trying to recall that one smell – the smell that would break the Memory Charm,_ Snape realised.

**Snape handed Dumbledore a small glass bottle of completely clear liquid. ...** **Dumbledore forced the man's mouth open, and poured three drops inside it. Then he pointed his wand at the man's chest, and said, _'Rennervate.'_**

Then Snape listened as Crouch told Dumbledore how his mother had swapped places with him in Azkaban, both under Polyjuice and how his mother had died there; how his father had kept him under the Imperius curse. He listened as the pitiful house-elf begged him to say no more to incriminate his father. He told him how Bertha Jorkins had been unlucky enough to happen by the house when his father was not here but to hear the house-elf speaking to him, and how his father placed a Memory Charm on her. They learned of the carefully planned trip to the Quidditch World Cup, upset by Crouch becoming stronger in resisting the Imperius curse and taking advantage of an injudiciously placed wand.

Snape heard how Crouch had summoned the Dark Mark in the sky to **show the Death Eaters what loyalty to the Dark Lord meant** when they were playing at Muggle-baiting, the Death Eaters who escaped Azkaban. _Snape understood now, Moody's constant harping about Death Eaters who had gone free – he meant those who had not suffered imprisonment for the Dark Lord._ His father re-acquired him and dismissed the house-elf.

Then the Dark Lord came for him. He had captured Bertha Jorkins in Albania; had learnt of the Triwizard Cup; of Moody's appointment and he found and broke the Memory Charm and found Crouch. It was now his father who was placed under the Imperius curse. Crouch was to Confund the Goblet of Fire and then guide Potter through the Triwizard Tournament to lead ultimately to him winning the Portkey that he would create, all to lead him to the graveyard. Crouch's father became more difficult to control and eventually he escaped and came to Hogwarts to find Dumbledore, to warn him.

Snape suddenly recalled how he had come across Potter and thought he was babbling – no, it was the _Confundus_ Charm preventing him even hearing Crouch's name! Nothing Potter had said made sense but, by Merlin, it did now!

He heard Crouch tell Dumbledore of the Marauder's Map and wondered how Lupin would feel about that. If only Snape had got to it. He would have seen Crouch! He could have stopped it then! So many clues. So many hints. He could have prevented this: this violation of Lily's child. Dumbledore should have prevented this! _Could have prevented this, if he had trusted my judgement,_ he thought bitterly.

Then he heard Crouch admit to killing his father and transfiguring his body into a bone and burying it. He looked quickly at Minerva to see the revulsion crawl over her face at Crouch's mania to the background noise of the distress of the house-elf.

Now that Snape had broken the Memory Charm, he could feel nothing but waves of relief wash over him: Crouch had been stopped returning to the Dark Lord. Lupin was safe. For now.

* * *

They were congregated in the hospital wing. Dumbledore was furious that Fudge had brought a Dementor into the castle. It had Kissed Crouch on the instant of seeing him. Minerva was angry and upset. Snape was stunned. He couldn't believe the Dementor had done this of its own volition and the more he listened to Fudge blustering his disbelief in the return of the Dark Lord, the more he realised he was right: Fudge had seen to it that Crouch would never testify. Fudge refused to believe the truth of it. It did not serve his purpose to believe: no matter that Dumbledore knew it to be true.

Everyone's sanity was impugned: from Potter to Dumbledore and he refused to listen to Dumbledore's impassioned pleas and suggestions to try turn around the situation before the Dark Lord could amass his followers once more: to remove the Dementors from Azkaban; parlay with the Giants; extend the hand of friendship to strengthen their position. Fudge was entrenched, thinking he could keep the status quo by force of his wilful blindness alone.

Hopelessly, Snape had even displayed his shamefully reinvigorated Dark Mark in the hope that it would make Fudge listen but it failed. Fudge just looked on him as a piece of dirt and accused them all of being mad. He flung the Triwizard winnings at Potter and left.

Snape and Dumbledore exchanged looks. They would have to fight without the Ministry and they both knew it. Dumbledore took a deep breath and seemed to resolve upon something.

' **And now,' he said, 'it is time for two of our number to recognise each other for what they are. Sirius ... if you could resume your usual form.'**

**The great black dog looked up at Dumbledore, then, in an instant, turned back into a man.** Molly Weasley created a commotion, but Snape took no notice. He **had not yelled or jumped backwards,** but he was furious and horrified. Yet again, Dumbledore had not trusted him to tell him of Black's presence here. And here the filthy pureblood was, in this place and Snape had had no time to prepare for him **.**

' **Him!' he snarled, staring at** Black **whose face showed equal dislike. 'What's he doing here?'**

' **He is here at my invitation,' said Dumbledore, looking between them, 'as are you, Severus.** ' There was no mistaking the implied threat there that the invitation could be withdrawn, should Dumbledore choose. **'I trust you both. It is time for you to lay aside you old differences, and trust each other.'**

Sometimes, Snape thought the man was mad. At least, Lupin had a reason to ask this of Snape, and even then, Snape thought it was an impossibility. Perhaps if Black begged for his forgiveness, he might consider it ...

' **I will settle, in the short term,' said Dumbledore, with a bite of impatience in his voice, 'for a lack of open hostility. You will shake hands. You are on the same side now. Time is short, and unless the few of us who know the truth stand united, there is no hope of any of us.'**

**Very slowly – but still glaring at each other as though each wished the other nothing but ill –** Black **and Snape moved towards each other, and shook hands** , both too hard for the other's comfort **. They let go extremely quickly.** They understood each other well enough then. This is how it would always be.

' **That will do to be going on with,' said Dumbledore, stepping between them once more. 'Now I have work for each of you. Fudge's attitude, though not unexpected, changes everything. Sirius, I need you to set off at once. You are to alert Remus Lupin, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher – the old crowd. Lie low at Lupin's for a while, I will contact you there.'** Snape froze. He was sending Black to Lupin, without even acknowledging Snape in this – sending him to their home! Dumbledore had no business doing such a thing! His mind was turmoil. He knew what Dumbledore would demand of him, but the old man was sending Black to his husband, without a thought for his feelings. Snape started breathing deeply to control his anger. Now was not the time. He could feel himself starting to lose control and it was imperative that he did not. His life would soon depend upon that control. It was a shame that Dumbledore never seemed to consider Snape's feelings at all: no doubt, Snape thought angrily, Dumbledore would say Snape should subdue his feelings _for the greater good_. He sneered inwardly: damn Dumbledore and his greater good. He could torture Snape as sharply as the Dark Lord ever could by his casual cruelty and his disregard for Snape's feelings. Why was he even surprised that Dumbledore disregarded his bonding with Lupin?

Black exchanged a few words with Potter then **transformed again into the black dog, and ran the length of the room to the door ... Then he was gone.**

' **Severus,' said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, 'you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready ... if you are prepared ...'**

' **I am,' said Snape** , breathing deeply, his stomach starting to turn over. After all these years – the time had come. Time to face the madman once more. To face certain torture. He felt the blood drain from his face, and for one instant fought back a prickling of tears of fear. He subdued them. He had done this before. He was equal to it **.**

' **Then, good luck,' said Dumbledore, and** Snape noted the **trace of apprehension** and he **swept wordlessly** out of the ward, down to the dungeons and Summoned his mask from the bottom of his old trunk. He looked upon it with loathing. He had wanted to burn it when the Dark Lord fell, but Dumbledore had insisted he keep it, that the Dark Lord would rise again and he would be needed. He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the mask under which he had committed murders, maimings, poisonings, torture. He turned it over in his hands, concentrating on controlling the small tremor that had set in them.

Back to that life, or to his death – that was all that was on his horizon now, and pain was the only certainty he faced in the next few hours.

His heart was full of fear. He wanted to speak to Lupin one more time, but knew he had little time to prepare. He had to consolidate the Occlusion he had begun earlier that evening. Speaking to the man he loved now would be too emotional and raw; he had to subdue it all if he wanted to protect it and save it.

He stood and made his way out of his quarters, taking that long and winding path from castle to the end of the anti-Apparition wards in his long stride, Occluding more and more deeply as he strode, his mind a blessed blank by the time he turned to Disapparate.

Snape Apparated to the Dark Mark, into a graveyard.

"Ah Severus, here you are at last," the high sibilant voice of his nightmares sang.

" _CRUCIO!"_

Before he could register his surroundings or could take a second breath, it was cruelly snatched from him by searing agony across his whole body as his nerves were shredded and his body started to arch and convulse erratically.

* * *


	46. Dark Reunion

The curse lasted only minutes, but Snape's whole body was on fire with agony. When he was released from the curse, it coruscated throughout his nerve endings still. Snape was panting, on his hands and knees, trying to recover his breath to speak. The Dark Lord would expect his supplication, no matter how much pain he inflicted on him. Snape crawled to the Dark Lord's feet and, with violently trembling hands, picked up the hem of his robe and kissed it.

"My Lord ..." he managed to croak.

The Dark Lord stroked Snape's hair like a favoured pet. Snape knew it meant nothing.

"Where have you been, Severus? You are very late." His voice was calm, and all the more menacing for it.

"My Lord ... I felt your summons ... I waited for the old man to order me back to you ... to protect my position there ... for you ... where you installed me," he managed to gasp out haltingly.

"Waited for Dumbledore to order you back to me?" the Dark Lord hissed dangerously. Snape tensed himself for the curse.

It came. " _Crucio!"_

Applied this time to bend his bones rather than fry his nerves – every bone in his body felt on the point of shattering and every joint to the point of dislocation and, despite his deep Occlusion, he screamed. The Dark Lord Levitated him as he writhed in pain. The Dark Lord had always enjoyed looking at all angles of his work. He liked others to look upon his work too. Snape didn't know whether there were others there. His world only contained the all-encompassing pain he now felt until he was released from both spells and his body fell heavily, cutting open his forehead on the stony ground, and panting once more for breath.

"Sensible," the Dark Lord said conversationally, as if he had not just applied the torture curse to the man at all. "If I find you truthful, then I will need my spy on the old man. You were always very clever, Severus. Possibly too clever." The Dark Lord paced around Snape's jittering body as Snape managed to breathe once more.

"But you know you must learn your lesson Severus, as have the others." The Dark Lord gestured with his wand around himself.

"Yes, my Lord," Snape rasped, his head bowed. For the first time, Snape looked briefly to each side of himself, although it hurt his body to do it and his eyes were smarting. The assembled Death Eaters had also been punished. He understood: Potter had escaped and they would have paid the price for witnessing it. They were all on their knees in various states of post-Cruciatus tremens. The Dark Lord had regained his power: his followers would be the first to taste it.

As soon as he was physically able, Snape dragged himself onto his knees. He didn't have the luxury of time to recover fully. He knew what must follow now – what always followed the torture curse for him. He had prepared himself for it. Swaying slightly, he looked up into the Dark Lord's blood red eyes.

_Legilimens!_

The Dark Lord tore into Snape's mind. As always, there was neither pity nor mercy as he hacked and sliced to find the memories he required. Snape had prepared them all. All the answers to the questions to which he anticipated the Dark Lord would require answers: his obstruction of greedy and unworthy Quirrell in the pursuit of the Philosopher's Stone, protecting Potter at the insistence of the old man to keep his own protection from Azkaban and his belief that the Dark Lord had died until this year with the strengthening Dark Mark. He had let the Dark Lord see the real memory of his conversation with Karkaroff when the other stated his intention to flee and Snape's avowed intention to remain.

He had assembled these memories and concoctions from the moment he felt the Dark Mark burn. Years of experience of this type of dissembling paid off now. His true thoughts were wrapped in the black oblivion of his Occlumency barriers and – for now – they were intact. For one panic-stricken moment, he felt a weakness and knew it was the Memory Charm that had not yet been fully removed, but the danger passed. The Dark Lord had found what he wanted and he ripped his way out and, once more, Snape was left rasping for breath and shaking in the dirt, his head now also pounding in pain.

The Dark Lord glided away from Snape.

"Where is my most loyal servant? The architect of my re-birth? I had expected Barty to return to me by now so I may honour him," the Dark Lord enquired, his voice solicitous, courteous even.

"He was discovered, my Lord," Snape said, his head pounding, his body trembling as his nerves scorched still and his bones felt wracked. "The old man discovered him trying to despatch Potter on your behalf. The old man knows the full story now. He told Fudge." Snape took as deep a breath as his tortured body allowed, knowing he would bear the brunt of the Dark Lord's displeasure for what he was about to impart, possibly all of them would. "Barty was fed to a Dementor."

He saw the Dark Lord stop, no longer pacing around him and felt the thrum of the Dark Lord's magic pulse.

" _CRUCIO!"_

Like dominoes, each Death Eater fell screaming one by one to the Dark Lord's torture curse that finally fell on Snape himself, as his already scorched nerves inflamed once more and his voice joined the dissonant chorus of pain that rose and eventually fell as the Dark Lord released each Death Eater, satisfied that his displeasure was known.

"If I had more followers of his calibre and loyalty," the Dark Lord sneered, his own breathing heavy with the exertion of intention he had put into his torture curse, "our victory would be assured. As it is, I am surrounded by cretins and cowards," he spat. "It is ... regrettable."

Snape lay on the ground, pain violently coursing around his body. He wanted to curl in on himself and allow his muscles to contract as they wanted, but he could not show that kind of weakness. He silently prayed into the dirt that the curse would not be applied again: he was certain the damage would be irreversible if it were. He didn't think he could live with this pain for the rest of his life, _however short that might be_ , his mind nudged.

"Get up! Get up! Get up!" the Dark Lord snapped. "I haven't finished with you yet, Severus. Tell me why I should allow you to serve me still."

Snape pulled himself back up to his knees, his hands braced on them so he wouldn't fall as he trembled violently.

"My Lord ..." Snape ventured weakly, even his voice tremulous now, "I believed you dead ... I am a poor servant ... an unintelligent fool ... not to have known that you could not have been killed by ... a simple curse rebounding. I should have scoured the earth for you. I am a suppliant at your feet ... I beg your forgiveness and ... deserve your scorn." He prostrated himself before the man again, and held the hem of his robes in his finger tips. It was a calculated gamble. He knew he would be severely punished now, but the Dark Lord's vanity would be appeased and Snape might yet live through this night.

"Yes, Severus. You have disappointed me, one of my cleverest. But I see you have been loyal. One final price to be paid, Severus. Then your fault will be forgiven."

He felt the magic recharging in the Dark Lord now, waiting to release itself onto him. He knew the forgiveness would come for his inaction and his lateness, but he also knew the price he would pay for it would be high. The price would be paid in blood: with the Dark Lord, the price was always paid in blood.

"Look at me, Severus!" the Dark Lord ordered. Snape wanted to die instead but forced himself to look up to the snake-like visage. The Dark Lord inclined his head, it was almost tender. He raised his wand in his delicate fingers. Snape's breath began to hitch. He recognised the wand movement as it formed.

_Sectumsempra!_

* * *

Snape stumbled through Dumbledore's Floo, blinded by pain and by blood in his eyes and heard a commotion of voices.

One he could discern was like a balm to his tortured nerves on hearing it.

"Severus!" Lupin shouted, catching the stumbling man in his arms. "Oh God, Severus, what has he done to you?" Lupin said hoarsely, taking in the tremble that coursed across Snape's body and feeling the stickiness of blood seeping through his clothes.

It was all Snape could manage to gasp Lupin's name, in more pain that he had ever been, his mind beyond agitated, daring to believe that he had convinced the Dark Lord of his fealty.

Dumbledore quickly took in the situation.

"Remus. You are uniquely equipped to help Severus quickly. Go now to his quarters. Let me know when all is well."

"What? Albus, what do you mean?" _Whose was that voice?_ It was Black and he was confused and angry ... yes angry, Snape could tell even with his tenuous hold on consciousness. "Remus! What does this mean? How can _you_ help Snivellus?"

"Sirius, sit down and do not interfere," Dumbledore commanded.

"I want to know what's going on!" Black demanded petulantly and Snape felt him grab Lupin's arm forcefully, trying to pull him away from Snape. "Moony!"

Then Snape heard three wondrous words from his lover that lifted his pained heart, as Lupin took hold of him again, and he would have paid galleons just to see Black's face.

"Sod off, Padfoot!"

oooOOOooo

Snape was passing in and out of consciousness rapidly. He wanted to be awake to see Lupin, but the pain was so bad; the worst it had ever been. The Dark Lord was back, and Snape realised that this pain would become part of his life once more, but now – now the Dark Lord seemed unhinged – even more than before.

"Come Severus," he heard Lupin say gently. "I'm taking you to the bathroom. I need to tend you."

He couldn't reply. He was so weak. The Cruciatus still chased across every one of his nerve endings and pushed at his bones. His head pounded where his mind had been savaged. Screams were no longer torn from his throat, but nothing else would come from his throat either, just his breathing ragged with pain.

Lupin gently spelled away Snape's clothes as Snape leaned heavily into Lupin. He heard Lupin curse foully. He knew the Dark Lord had cut him. Cut him with Snape's own cutting curse. How he rued the day he'd been that inventive. Lupin remembered the counter-curse that Snape had taught him for the ritual and he performed it now on every one of the deep slashes that covered Snape's back and chest, the backs and fronts of his thighs, his calves, and the soles of his feet. He heard Lupin almost sob his name as he did so. Then he felt Lupin gently wash the blood from him so he was clean.

The next thing he did, Snape had not expected, but when Lupin did it, Snape understood why Dumbledore had called it "unique".

Lupin laid over him and tongued the Claiming bite. He was going to heal him through his core. More gratefully than Lupin would ever know, Snape gradually lost his awareness of his unremitting agony and became enveloped in bliss.

* * *

For how long he was unaware, he did not know. When Lupin called him, it appeared to be dusk through his small window.

He was propped up against Lupin, who was still dressed and covered in Snape's dried blood. He held Snape with the lightest of touches and kissed him gently. Snape noted that Lupin looked quite worn out. He wondered for how long he had transferred his magical core to heal Snape. His head no longer hurt at all, the effects of the Cruciatus were just bearable now, and his cuts now just sore, no longer open and bleeding. Lupin Summoned some water for Snape and helped him to drink.

Snape went to speak, but his voice was gone and he was exhausted.

"Sleep now, Severus. We'll talk tomorrow." Snape's relief to be in Lupin's arms once more overwhelmed him and he wanted to tell him so, but ultimately his exhaustion was stronger.

oooOOOooo

He awoke to raised voices coming from the drawing room.

"No, Albus! He's not to be woken yet. I know you want to know what happened. I think we can all see that Severus was tortured within an inch of his life by Voldemort! We all know that much."

"Calm down, Remus, dear boy. I just need to speak to him."

"I'm sure one more day will make no difference to Voldemort's plans for magical world domination. When Severus is well enough to stand, you may see him, and not before."

Severus lay still, eyes staring at the ceiling. Had anyone ever said no on his behalf before, at all? Let alone Lupin to Dumbledore. He screwed his eyes shut and savoured the feeling. It was a revelation.

Lupin came in. "Sorry if we woke you, Severus," he said, smiling his small smile. He sat on the edge of the bed and stroked Snape's hair away from his face. "Do you think you could eat something?"

Lupin ordered some soup for them and helped Snape to eat his. He couldn't eat much, but he thought it was a miracle he could eat at all. When they'd finished, Lupin had taken him to the bathroom to bathe him gently, then returned him to bed and sat on the bed with him.

Snape asked Lupin to tell him what had happened to Potter in the graveyard. Lupin told him the whole story as Potter had recounted it to Dumbledore and Black in Dumbledore's office, and as Black had then recounted it to him.

Snape was horrified that the archaic _Bone of my Father_ ritual had been used. He'd read a great deal about it. Certainly, the Dark Lord would take on some of Lily's protection but, as with all Dark Magic, Snape suspected it would leave some weakness also: there was always a price to be paid. He wondered what form that would take. He would look for it. Hopefully, they could exploit it.

He listened with interest to how the Dark Lord had received the Death Eaters. Well, his magnanimity hadn't lasted long once Potter had escaped, had it. But the meeting of the wands: now, that was interesting. The wands connected and Potter's had forced _Priori Incantatem_ on the Dark Lord's wand because the wands shared a core – Fawkes's feathers. The nature of that _Priori Incantatem_ intrigued Snape also. The Dark Lord had cast the killing curse at Potter, and his previous killing curses had been regurgitated – no other minor spells. The wands' cores were working quite precisely and specifically. Potter's parents' echoes, as well as the others, had bought the child time to escape. It was truly extraordinary.

Snape had studied some wand lore – it was an immensely interesting and arcane area of magic. He knew the Dark Lord would never be able to kill Potter whilst they used brother wands. But what interested him was that Potter's wand had overpowered the Dark Lord's – an inexperienced boy wizard and _Expelliarmus_ and then the Dark Lord had been momentarily overpowered by echoes of murders cast by his own wand. No wonder the Dark Lord had revelled in torture that night. He must be feeling vulnerable still.

There was a great deal here that needed consideration. He and Lupin discussed it until the early hours, not just for ideas and plans against the Dark Lord, but Snape was formulating plans based on what he had learned to protect Lupin too.

The morning came and, although his nerves and bones retained deep echoes of pain, Snape felt a little stronger. Lupin lay next to him and was stroking his face gently.

"I heard Black when I came through the Floo. Have you told him?" Snape asked, tentatively.

"No, I haven't seen him since then. I've been here with you. I think he's probably guessed, after how I left him in Albus's office." Lupin smiled. "When you're better, I will speak to him."

"Remus ..." Snape started.

"I know what you think, Severus, but Sirius will come round in time, I'm sure of it," Lupin said with conviction. Snape wished he could share it, for Lupin's sake.

"I want you to make love to me Remus," Snape said, grasping the hand that stroked his face. As Lupin started to protest, Snape put his finger to Lupin's lips, still holding Lupin's hand. "I would rather feel your kisses on my skin than the Dark Lord's curses," Snape said.

Lupin uncovered Snape's body and feathered small gentle kisses and suckles to every one of the healing cuts on his thighs, on his chest, setting each alight, and then lovingly kissed his mouth and turned him over onto his stomach, and kissed and suckled at those cuts from the soles of Snape's feet, on his calves, and thighs and back.

"Like this, Remus, like this," Snape whispered, his whole body now alight with pain that turned to pleasure under his husband's gentlest of touches. Lupin cupped Snape's backside gently and stoked the cheeks and softly pulled them apart, and delicately traced his tongue along the soft and sensitive skin inside and around Snape's opening, making him gasp in the delight tinged on the edge with pain. Lupin gently probed with his tongue as Snape moaned with the sheer pleasure of it. Lupin probed more firmly and rhythmically and Snape's groaned now with every gentle intrusion, flaring in his groin and making him grasp the sheets at the deliciousness of it and sighing Lupin's name when the tongue left him. "Please Remus, fill me up," he sighed, the feeling making him feel alive in the most wondrous way in comparison with his pain of the day before.

Lupin's fingers gently explored the work of his tongue, Snape was ready and whispered his readiness so Lupin entered him as gently as he could, but deeply, and Snape knew he was watching him all the time in case he hurt him. "Remus, please, love me. It's you I want to feel," he gasped. Lupin started to push into him fully, but not harshly, as if Snape were young and inexperienced, Snape thought. _If only I had been treated like this when I was young and inexperienced,_ he thought to himself as he luxuriated in the beauty of Lupin's restraint, that still pushed against his sweet spot washing him with pleasure, masking the pain of his body, and making him feel lavished with love.

Lupin gently moved them both to one side, and moved Snape's top leg slightly forward to push deeper and so he could take Snape's erection in his hand. Gently and in time he rolled into Snape and stroked him, as Snape moaned as his pleasure increased, and Lupin placed breathless kisses on his shoulder and the side of his face, whispering his love to Snape's ear, the speed slowly increasing as Snape groaned more to the feel of his orgasm intensifying until it crested and he cried out and Lupin followed with a small cry as he moved his hand away so not to grasp Snape too tightly. Snape pulled Lupin's arms back to him, feeling released and happy, his pain forgotten, in the arms of the man he loved, and who so clearly loved him. He slept once more.

oooOOOooo

It was mid-morning when he awoke. He realised he couldn't put off seeing Dumbledore any longer and, with Lupin's help, he bathed and then Floo-called Dumbledore to let him know he was ready to see him. He would have liked to have stood whilst they talked – he felt defensive – but he knew he wasn't strong enough.

They sat at his table, laid with hot and cold drinks. He recounted to Dumbledore the events of the night in the graveyard. Dumbledore listened without interruption, but Lupin could not. Every time Snape detailed his torture, Lupin reacted, vocally or physically, even though Snape tried to comfort him with small gestures (as Lupin would normally do to him, he thought to himself wryly).

"Do you believe that Voldemort believes you now?" Dumbledore asked when Snape had finished.

"I do. I would be dead otherwise, or wishing I were ..." Snape said quietly.

Dumbledore nodded, stood and paced Snape's drawing room.

Then Snape told them that he had feared for his Occlumency when the Memory Charm was approached, Dumbledore inhaled sharply and turned to Snape.

"Dear boy, with so much going on ... forgive me. When you are stronger, I will remove it entirely."

_Too busy sending me on errands than to attend what could have been the undoing of me!_ Snape thought sourly, but nodded curtly instead. Lupin, however, did not let it pass.

"Not only did you ignore Severus's concerns for nearly a whole year, Albus, you didn't attend a Memory Charm before sending him to Voldemort, knowing he would be Legilimised savagely. Do you care for Severus at all?" Lupin's eyes were blazing, although he restrained himself from shouting as his hand clutched Snape's shoulder. Snape's heart swelled. If he was picking up Lupin's pacifying habits, it appeared Lupin's was channelling his temper.

"Of course I do, Remus. Please be calm." Dumbledore held out his hands to pacify him. "I have not yet had the opportunity to apologise fully to Severus for trusting my own judgement over his – for which both Severus and Harry have borne the direct consequences, and indeed the real Alastor Moody, and for which I will not forgive myself readily."

Snape wasn't sure how sincere that apology could be. It seemed to him, knowing the magical power of the man in front of him, that it was nothing short of extraordinary that Dumbledore had not seen through it from the outset. But that was too cynical even for him to believe. What purpose could that possibly have served?

"How is Alastor now?" Lupin asked.

"He will be in the hospital wing for a while yet. Kept barely alive in his own trunk for nine months – Legilimised for his memories and his hair used for Polyjuice, barely fed properly: he's in a poor way. It will take a while to rebuild his strength," Dumbledore said, shaking his head.

"I have a stronger nutrient potion that would better assist Poppy," Snape said, and Lupin touched his hand in gratitude.

"I went to see him briefly before you came back. His magical eye saw the bonding circlet, and he congratulated me and asked me who the lucky man was!" Lupin laughed softly, and Snape knew that Lupin was relieved beyond measure that his old and trusted friend from the war was not the foul-mouthed bigot Crouch had portrayed.

"Did you tell him?" Snape asked.

"No, I wanted to wait until you were back, and we would discuss what we would do about our registration ... under the circumstances," Lupin said quietly, looking pained.

Snape hadn't thought of it until now. If he were to be accepted as a Death Eater, he could not possibly register his bond to a werewolf. It just wasn't conceivable. Snape felt his flesh crawl all over, and sick to the pit of his stomach at the realisation.

"No," he said, his voice small. "No, we waited so long ..." Lupin held both of Snape's hands as Snape hung his head. "There has to be a way."

"There isn't Severus," Lupin said softly, taking Snape's chin gently in his hand. "But we'll just carry on as we have been. We'll keep our flat in Diagon Alley. We just need to be careful, that's all."

"No, boys, I don't think so," Dumbledore said quietly. "I think we need to think about all of this in the round, as it were."

"What do you mean?" Lupin asked, looking confused. _Indeed,_ thought Snape miserably _, what are you planning to do to me now if this – sending me back to the madman and depriving me living with my husband here in my home- isn't bad enough!_

"Leave it until the summer, you said. And now look! Now we can't!" Snape whispered dangerously. "If I hadn't listened to you ..."

"... he would have killed you both – you know this is true. Think, Severus, think!" Dumbledore cut across Snape firmly. "I'm sorry that you can't register or live together yet, for your own safety. Once Voldemort is defeated, it will be different.

"I am trying to reassemble the Order – all the old crowd and any new recruits. Sirius has offered his old family home at Grimmauld Place as our headquarters and I have accepted this kind gesture." Dumbledore was gently pacing the room now, and talking in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. "I think it would be best if Remus stayed with Sirius at Grimmauld Place to help him re-adjust to life away from Azkaban, help us with the work for the Order and keep any attention away from you both as a couple." He didn't appear to hear the sorrowful "no" that escaped Snape's throat repeatedly in the background, but carried on relentlessly as if the topic were most mundane. "We'll need to find your companions from the retreat that you told me about, Remus. I'll need to Obliviate their memories so they can't be compromised ..."

"WHAT?" Snape suddenly exploded and he sprang to his feet. This was just too much. "You send me to be tortured by that madman and yet you would keep Remus away from me all together! What kind of man are you to ask this of me?" Snape yelled as Lupin stood in front of him and held him back. "You want to wipe our bonding out, don't you? Just so I can be a better spy for you. Damn you, Albus! You have no heart."

"Severus, listen," Lupin pleaded, holding firmly onto both of Snape's arms as Snape pressed forwards towards Dumbledore, "please, listen to me. We'll find a way. I won't be parted from you either. We'll work something out, I promise. You'd better leave now, Albus," Lupin said coolly.

Dumbledore left but Snape would not be comforted. He had looked forward to this for so long, to having Lupin with him always, to keeping him safe with him, looking after him, loving him, to having all the time in the world with him! Not only was this to be denied to him, but he was to return to the service of the Dark Lord, to physical, spiritual and emotional torture.

Snape raged, no matter how hard he tried to rein it in, but Lupin held onto him fast, soothing him and letting him rage – held on until Snape's frustrated anger broke and he wept into Lupin's shoulder inconsolably. And still he held on, and shed quiet tears with him.

* * *


	47. Deliberations

Snape had spiralled into a dark and hollow place. He was curled up in his bed, and nothing Lupin could say would rouse him. He had raged and cried so hard yesterday, there were no tears left today. But his heart hurt so much he thought it would burst.

He'd allowed himself to dream of a future. After Lily, before Lupin, he'd dreamt no such dreams. He lived from day to day. He planned his lessons; marked the parchments; brewed his potions. Invented some; improved others; published his findings. He had an academic and professional reputation for excellence. He had not planned it, nor had he dreamt of it, but he had worked hard for it for what else did one do with one's life?

On a personal level, there was nothing he asked for and nothing he expected and nothing he felt he deserved. He sought no-one out. He had no lovers. He had a personal reputation as an unpleasant and cold man. It had been a hollow existence. He didn't know it at the time, but now he did.

Through a maliciously cast enchantment, he had come to know Remus Lupin and he had fallen hopelessly in love in a manner of which he never would have conceived he was capable. He had surrendered himself utterly to physical and emotional adoration. He adored and was adored. He had bathed in its luxury and basked in its warmth. Slowly but surely, he had come to rely on it and thrive on it. He had wrapped up his whole existence in it, planning his life in the short term around the full moon, and planning his life long-term for the very first time.

But now the Dark Lord had returned and everything that was in Snape's grasp was about to be ripped away from him. Dumbledore wanted his cover as a Death Eater to be perfect so he had _decreed_ that Lupin could not live with him.

Many years ago, when he was just 10, Lily had found him hiding in the trees by the playground. His father had beaten him badly, his mother was ill and there was no-one to tend his injuries. Lily had taken him home with her, and she and her mother had tended him. He'd refused to go to the Muggle hospital, or co-operate with any type of report to the Muggle authorities, even though Mr. Evans had been fit to burst when he had seen the state of him. Even though he had been in pain, he remembered how warm and safe he had felt at the soft and tender ministrations of Lily and her mother, and the indignant outrage on his behalf by Lily's parents, impotent though he rendered them. No-one had cared for him like that before – until Lupin – Lupin, who promised him a lifetime of love.

He had returned to the Dark Lord as he had been ordered. He had been tortured more than ever before. Yet when he'd returned, Lupin had been there to care for him, to even give him his own magical core to heal him, to make love to him to alleviate his pain.

Could he ever put into words what that had felt like to him? How much stronger he would be as Dumbledore's spy if he knew he would be loved and cared for when he returned home?

Why was Dumbledore's first response to deny him? Why was there no care in his heart for Snape to try to ease his way? Was Snape so very worthless?

He felt so desolate now. He didn't know if he could do what Dumbledore needed him to do – what his own vow required him to do – if he no longer had Lupin. He hugged the covers to himself once more.

 

oooOOOooo

"Severus, you've lain here for hours. You have to speak to me sooner or later." Lupin sat on the edge of the bed, and stroked Snape's hair gently and sighed heavily. "I suppose that's not true. You don't _have_ to speak to me at all, but we can't help ourselves if you don't." Snape didn't respond, but just curled in on himself more tightly.

"Dearest Severus," Lupin said softly. "I understand it's been too much for you, these past few days. I don't blame you, Severus. It would be too much for anyone. What Voldemort did to you, and then what Albus suggested. All too much."

Lupin straightened the bed clothes around the silent, curled up form and tucked them around him gently.

"Please don't despair like this. I don't know how to help you." His voice was pleading. He sat with Snape for a long time, and then he left the room. Snape slept, far too deeply, retreating from his heartache.

 

oooOOOooo

And Snape dreamt. They were dark and turbulent dreams.

He dreamt that he and Lupin slipped away. They moved to a small island in the Pacific, practically uncharted. They set up home there. He saw all the detail of it: where and how they lived. Oh, they were so happy. Happy until the Dark Lord found them, found them by tracing the blood bond through the Dark Mark because Dark magic always leaves traces, searching for his servant who refused to answer his summons. He tortured Lupin to insanity in front of Snape, jeering at their pain. Then come the full moon, he watched as the maddened wolf tore Snape apart.

Snape shook himself away from that dream and started again.

He dreamt he and Lupin ran away. They moved to a small island in the Hebrides. It was cold and inhospitable. They didn't care. They were so happy. But Snape sickened. Nothing he or Lupin could do could help him. He weakened and faded, his life force ebbing away bit by bit. Lupin grieved and blamed himself but, as Snape was breathing his last, he begged Lupin's forgiveness as he confessed to Lupin that he had broken an Unbreakable Vow – he deserved his fate ...

Snape awoke, hot tears of shame prickling in his eyes that he could think of betraying his vow to Lily's memory. Eventually, he slept again.

He dreamt that they did not run. He dreamt that Lupin lived in his chambers, secretly so none should know as Snape carried on his everyday business and spied successfully for the Order. Snape was happy, but Lupin faded away with nothing to nourish him other than one man, deprived of all else to the exclusion of that one man's desires. Snape watched him fade, but never complain, fade away to nothing at all ...

Snape awoke, his heart frozen in his mouth, tears tracing down his face.

He dreamt that they did not run. He dreamt Lupin lived at the flat and Snape visited. Snape carried on his everyday business, and spied for the Order. He was followed and his werewolf husband was found out.

 _No!_ He stopped the dream in its tracks.

Amelie and Jasper were found by the Dark Lord and their Memory Charms were broken and Snape's husband was discovered. _NO!_

He was caught by the Dark Lord in a lie and his Occlumency shredded and his husband was revealed. _NO! NO! NO!_

They were brought before the Dark Lord and delivered to the Death Eaters for sport – for all werewolves were sport for Death Eaters: the type that Malfoy enjoyed, and with Snape now fallen from grace, he and Lupin would be given to Malfoy. Malfoy knew many ways, magical and Muggle, to obtain sexual gratification from the unwilling, and an unwilling couple was Malfoy's favourite pastime. Snape could hear him, as he had heard him brag once before, in his life before this one:

"They are so _very_ co-operative if they have _hope_ ," Malfoy sneered, "that they can save the other." He chuckled unpleasantly. "Bless their – idiotic – little - hearts." _Never!_ Snape cried in his sleep.

His eyes shot open. _I will do anything to keep you safe,_ Snape vowed to the sleeping man next to him and watched him sleep, until sleep took him away once more.

 

oooOOOooo

Snape heard Lupin moving around. Lupin brought a tray of food and a large bowl, a flannel, some soap and towels. He stroked Snape's hair gently again.

"Good morning, Severus my love," he murmured. Snape had not realised so much time had passed. He stroked Snape's face. "I've brought you some breakfast. Will you eat?" Snape did not answer, nor did he move, though he realised he soon must - Lupin would not be fooled that he was still sleeping.

"Hmm. I thought you might be like this. Poppy taught me a rather extraordinary spell, Severus. I'm afraid you won't like it. It's a spell to feed those unable, or in your case unwilling, to feed themselves. For invalids, you see." His tone was still gentle and instructive and light.

"I won't let you fade away from me, Severus. I know you are desperate, but I won't let you leave me. Believe me, I'll play unfairly if I have to. Now will you eat something?"

 _I don't believe he would do that to me,_ Snape thought. _Not Remus, he wouldn't force me._

"No? Right then," Lupin said quietly. He turned to the tray and muttered an incantation and Snape felt pulp appear in his mouth and then travel down his throat to his stomach. His eyes flew open in shock.

_He did! I can't believe he did that!_

"Good morning, Severus," Lupin said brightly as he loaded the spoon and pointed his wand at it. "Ready for your next mouthful? Here comes the broomstick ..."

"You ... wouldn't ... dare!" Snape croaked.

"Of course I would, Severus," Lupin smiled. "I just did. And when I've finished feeding you, as you are an invalid, I'm going to give you a bed bath." He gestured to the bowl and towels and soap. "Poppy's taught me how to do that as well. It's rather undignified, I'm afraid." Lupin's face had an odd expression: one of seriousness, but Snape could see Lupin was having difficulty suppressing a grin.

_Why the ... he would do it too. Bed bathe me! I don't think so!_

Snape shuffled out of his nest of blankets to sit up.

"I'll hex you... into ... next ... week!" he said weakly.

"Frankly, Severus, as weak as you've let yourself become, I doubt it." Lupin passed him a glass of water. With shaking hands, Snape drank deeply, his throat dry and dusty.

"What do you mean?"

"You've been in this bed for days, Severus. Refusing to speak, to eat. No more. You can't sleep this away. We have to confront this – you and me."

"I don't want to ..." Snape said petulantly, and then flinched as he felt more pulp appear in his mouth and slip down his throat. "Stop that!" he snapped, then saw Lupin smile a half smile.

"Eat it yourself, or I _will_ feed you," Lupin said matter-of-factly holding out the bowl and spoon for Snape to take.

"It's foul pap. I'm not eating that!" Snape snapped again. Lupin raised both eyebrows.

"One way or the other, Severus, you're eating this ... it's fortified with vitamins and nutrients ... Poppy's own receipe." Lupin was mashing the pulp with the spoon, barely concealing a smirk.

Snape narrowed his eyes calculatingly at Lupin who merely smiled at him, his smile growing into a grin as he proffered the bowl and spoon again and then looked meaningfully at his wand and raised his eyebrows questioningly – _which will it be?_ they said.

Snape snatched the bowl and spoon with a growl and ate the contents of the bowl, scowling at Lupin as he did so, who matched each scowl with a smile. Lupin passed him a drink again and then banished the tray.

"There," he said. "Will you talk to me now?"

Snape sighed heavily. He knew they had to talk of this. His terrible dreams had impacted on his consciousness heavily. They had shown him some of the horrors he was too afraid to face, but that were a real danger.

"Of course, I will. But I should apologise first, Remus."

Lupin took his hands in his. "No, Severus, you have nothing to apologise for. Nothing at all. Those few days were more than any man could have borne. Too much for your mind and too much for your body. I don't blame you at all for despairing. Merlin's beard, Severus, you'd been tortured!" He leaned forward and stroked Snape's face and Snape leaned into the hand.

"It just became too much for me – going back to the Dark Lord, knowing what awaits me now, and then being told we couldn't be together after all," Snape said. "It is all my nightmares come true." Snape exhaled deeply.

"Tell me what you want to do," Lupin asked, looking at Snape's hands.

"What I want, or what I think we can achieve?" Snape asked. "What I want is to be registered and have you live here. I know we can't. That's why I was so upset. I've thought a lot over the past few days. All different ways we can be together. Everything I think of ends up with you being hurt by the Dark Lord." Snape sat forward and grasped Lupin's hands in his own. "I can't risk that. I love you and need you, but I can't let him hurt you." Snape breathed very deeply for a while as he came to his decision.

"Albus is right," Snape said, his voice flat and unhappy. "You should live at Grimmauld Place. It will be safer than living with me."

Snape stared at Lupin for a long time, at the sad blue eyes that could break his heart. Lupin said nothing, but his eyes said it all.

"It hurts, Severus. What will we do?"

"I know. It hurts me too. If I were brave, I would give you up and walk away and it would keep you safe ..."

"No, Severus, no!" Lupin interjected. Snape shook his head and clutched Lupin's hands tighter in his own.

"But I'm not brave, Remus. I'm a coward. I don't want to give you up. Not now. Not ever, but I have to keep you safe." He had failed before at keeping what he loved safe. He knew the consequences too well. "We will keep the flat for us. We see each other as often as we can, but in secret. No-one must know, that way we can't be betrayed." He waited for Lupin to reply, but he was silent. "If you want to, that is ..." Snape suddenly felt unsure.

"Of course I want to. I Claimed you – while you live, my need for you cannot be put aside by anyone." Lupin stood, stretching his back, thinking things over and then sat again. Lupin leant forward and kissed Snape's mouth and then breathed deeply and laid his hands on Snape's blanket-bound legs. "No-one who knows you, Severus, could ever call you coward." They rested their foreheads against each other, then Lupin inhaled deeply again as he ran his hand lovingly over the bonding circlet on Snape's arm.

"After that Hallowe'en," Lupin said, almost inaudibly, "when I lost my friends, I had no-one. I went from place to place, earning a living as I could, doing my research papers, publishing where I could. I met lots of acquaintances, but never stayed anywhere long enough to make new friends. I had lovers, but nothing meaningful or long-term. I never dared dream that I could ever find someone who would love me to Claim as my own. As for bonding, who could possibly bond with a Dark creature like me? I tried not to despair, but it was hard sometimes not to. I still had more in my life than many did – I had to be grateful.

"Then, a coven of Dark wizards cast enchantments against me to enslave me and destroy me. They enslaved me to you, no matter that that was not intended. By their error, I found the man of dreams I never knew I could have. A passionate, intelligent, powerful wizard – and he loved me!" Lupin whispered and shook his head. "Me, a werewolf." He returned his gaze to Snape, his blue eyes shining. "I never believed I could have such happiness. I allowed myself to dream of a future: our future. It wasn't a complex or intricate dream – just us - together. My heart would feel fit to burst every time I thought of us together. Such a beautiful dream, Severus. I wonder now if I jinxed it – daring to dream the way I have." Lupin picked up Snape's hand and kissed it tenderly, his face infinitely sad.

Snape stared at him in wonder to hear his own story, his hopes and his fears mirrored back to him. He had done it again: always forgetting Lupin's own tragedy when he dwelt upon his own too much; forgetting why they were a perfect fit.

Both had dared to dream. Snape believed it was a dream worth fighting for. It would be hard, but Lupin loved him – of that he had no doubt at all. They would not be parted by Dumbledore or anyone else, but, for now, they would have to be careful.

He sat up and took Lupin's face in his hands and kissed him gently and was kissed back in kind.

"You are my perfect symmetry, Remus," he said quietly.

Lupin got up and held out his hand and took Snape to the bathroom. They showered together, soaping each other to cleanse and to ease each other's tired muscles and then to stroke and entice one another as they kissed passionately and their desire ignited and Snape made love to Lupin braced against the tiled wall, holding his loved one's arms outstretched under his own as he thrust into him, rolling into him deeply and stroking him fervently, both moaning each other's name in pleasure until they came together, always fiercely.

"I will do anything ... anything at all ... to keep you safe," Snape said resolutely as he kissed Lupin's neck and shoulder before turning him to face him as they calmed and kissed as the water beat down on them.

 

oooOOOooo

They had eaten in the drawing room together at the table for the first time in days, talking over the information previously discovered, but not discussed after Snape had fallen into despair. They had to make their plans now and they set about it with a will. How they would manage to be together for the full moon, keeping the flat, how they would react to each other at the meetings Dumbledore was planning on holding at Grimmauld Place.

"Just follow Black's lead – no-one will think we're a couple then," Snape said sourly.

"No, I won't do that – I won't be rude to you. I wouldn't have done that before and I won't do it now," Lupin said firmly. "Albus wants to Obliviate what Sirius saw in his office, but I think he'll have difficulty."

"Really? Is he adept at resisting Memory Charms?" Snape asked, interested in spite of himself.

"Surprisingly resistant. James once said that both Sirius and Regulus had been trained from a young age by their father – apparently, aptitude for Mind Magic is supposed to be the mark of a pureblood, and no Black should be tricked by it. From what I understood, their training verged on the brutal but I never asked James for more detail. It felt too much like prying. So, I'm prepared for some difficulty there." Lupin's smile looked a little weak.

"I'm nothing but prepared for some difficulty there," Snape retorted. Snape knew that purebloods set a lot of store by Mind Magic. It had been one of the reasons he had been so very interested in Mind Magic and so very keen to master it, back when his being a half-blood meant nothing but shame to him. Indeed, one of the best Occlumens he'd ever met was Black's cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange.

"He spoke of Obliviating Alastor, but that would just be pointless. He'd see the bonding circlets and make the deduction again anyway," Lupin smiled.

Snape snorted. "Albus could spend a lifetime Obliviating the same information from Moody over and over again whilst he still has that magical eye. You're right: it would be pointless. Better just explain the situation to him and hope he never falls into the hands of another Polyjuiced Death Eater," Snape said wryly. "What of your friends from the retreat? Has he found them yet?"

"Were they not your friends also, Severus?" Lupin asked, his eyebrows raised.

"I suppose I didn't think of them that way, no." Snape said, regretting it instantly when he saw a look of hurt flit across Lupin's face. "I mean, well, you know I'm not very amiable – not like you are," he finished weakly.

"Yes, he's found them all. They'll remember me, but not you. Amelie and Jasper believe I have found a contact to make their Potion for them." Lupin sighed. Snape realised Lupin found these memories being eradicated felt as if a part of him were being erased too: that part that had enjoyed being part of a pack with his mate. He should tread more carefully.

"Then there's Gringott's," Lupin said, exhaling heavily. "Albus has no hope there. The goblins will never allow their records to be tampered with, and no employee either. So, Bill's out of bounds. I think Albus is going to speak with him, but I certainly don't think he'd be a risk to us. He's a curse-breaker: mentally very strong, and a man of honour. I trust him. Don't you?"

Snape remembered the young man who had procured their bonding circlets. How could he not trust him? "Yes. Yes, I do," he said, surprising himself.

Snape thought Lupin looked quite weary now. He supposed that subterfuge had become second nature to him during the first wizarding war, but Lupin, with his open nature, must be finding this hard.

"Remus, we need to duel," Snape said as they were preparing for bed.

"You shouldn't harbour a grudge because I fed you two spoonfuls, Severus. I was caring for you," Lupin laughed.

Snape rolled his eyes and replied, "We need to _train_ ," he drawled as if speaking to an idiotic student. Then he turned to face Lupin, and stroked his chin. "I've given a lot of thought to what happened to Potter's wand in the graveyard. I think we can enchant and train our wands to recognise our bond, in case we must ever duel when I am masked."

Lupin looked thoughtful. "Yes, I suppose that's a distinct possibility," he said quietly. "Where?"

"The Room of Requirement. Do you know it?" Snape asked.

"The Come and Go Room! Of course. Couldn't plot the damn thing on our map, no matter what we tried." Lupin laughed at the recollection. "It drove us wild. Standing in that room when we'd even asked it to be a plottable map room and _still_ not being able to plot it or even ourselves!"

Snape rolled his eyes. "It doesn't exist until called into existence, of course it's unplottable, Remus."

"Now, now Severus. We were only school boys. We didn't know about different dimensions and veils then. Did you?" Lupin said, challengingly, with one eyebrow raised.

Snape snorted. "Possibly not." His face softened once more. "Let's start tomorrow then. It's the Leaving Feast the day after and, I dare say, Albus will be keen to see us on our separate ways."

As unhappy as Snape was with the compromise he and Lupin had agreed, at least he felt they had wrested a degree of control of it from Dumbledore and planning for Lupin's protection gave him purpose and challenged him.

He was doing something useful now. They could bond their wands to put on a good show, but not hurt each other. He could also ensure that by training, he kept Lupin alert to Death Eater tricks of duelling. He wanted to test Lupin's Occlumency and, maybe, teach him Legilimency ... or at least one very specific type, just for them.

 

* * *


	48. The Duellists

It was dawn. Snape knew that was a safe time for them to go to the seventh floor and the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy without coming across any students. They both knew how this worked, walking past the blank wall three times, concentrating: _We need a place to duel and to bond our wands in secret._ The highly polished door with the ornate brass handle appeared.

Lupin smiled hugely. "It's been – what – eighteen years?" he said quietly as they walked in. The room was large, long enough for a duelling runway, cushioned to the sides with duelling dummies dotted around, its ceiling high and vaulted. As always, the room was lit by torches. They walked around for a while and then turned to each other.

"Let's start then," Lupin said, and they removed their robes and took to the centre of the runway.

"Well, Remus" Snape said, starting to strut away from him. "Let's see what you have in your armoury."

Lupin smiled a small, self-effacing smile as he paced away from Snape and they faced each other, taking their stances.

"Duelling rules to start with. Then we'll see ... " Snape said, and they took their stances and Snape counted down. As the count finished, their shields were raised and Lupin cast _Diffindo_ and _Stupefy_ in quick succession aiming to slice through the shield, but Snape deflected and countered with his own _Stupefy_ and _Petrificus Totalus_ but Lupin's shield held and he Conjured _Avis_ and _Oppugno_ and as Snape moved his shield to the birds, Lupin undercut with a stinging hex, followed by a burning hex, both of which caught Snape on the ankle, momentarily disorienting him. Lupin took advantage and cast _Expelliarmus_ forcefully, sending Snape flying.

"Not bad, not bad at all," Snape said.

"Not bad ... you've got a nerve, Severus, saying that on your arse," Lupin laughed as he held out a hand to Snape to help him up. Snape smiled and took the arm by the wrist. Snape stood again and they duelled for another seven bouts, winning four each.

Snape stopped then. He had a good idea of Lupin's skill. He was fast, his wandwork excellent but they had been only playing after all. He had never fought Lupin without rules and this he needed to see.

"Now then," Snape said. He muttered an enchantment to his wand so that Lupin would not hear. "No duelling rules now. I'm a Death Eater; you are part of the Order of the Phoenix – I am duelling to kill you. There are no restrictions on curses and you can duel like a Muggle if you dare. Are you ready?"

"What? You want to use Unforgivables?" Lupin brow furrowed. "You can't ..." _Expelliarmus!_ Snape cast silently and caught Lupin's wand. He tilted his head with one brow raised.

"Attention would be useful, Remus." He threw Lupin's wand back to him.

"Hang on a minute, Severus," Lupin stepped forward.

" _Avada Kedavra!"_ Snape shouted, but instead of a jet of green light, a stream of lime green paint hit Lupin over his heart. Lupin stood, slack-jawed, staring at his shirt.

"You would now be dead." _Tergeo._ He siphoned the paint away with an arrogant flick of his wand. "Are we ready now?" Snape drawled, crossing his arms impatiently.

Lupin took his stance, but this time with a very firmly set jaw and with no further formality they both threw Stunning spells as they raised their shields, the jets of light crackling with energy and power. Snape sent a heavily disguised _Incarcerous_ at Lupin but the ropes were turned instantly to air which Lupin whipped into a violent vortex that sped towards Snape, but he deflected it using his shield and then Lupin turned it as it drove back towards him, altering it to a swiftly moving column of fire, followed by a Stunning spell. Snape deluged the fire in Conjured water, only just avoided the Stunning spell, as a burning hex caught his side and he sent it back with a stinging hex behind it, catching Lupin's thigh.

Powerful Stunning spells flew relentlessly between the two men now, teeth gritted and jaws set, their wands blurring as they paced around each other and sprang out of harm's way by millimetres at a time. A particularly violent Stunner from Snape was met by one of the duelling dummies that Lupin had animated, which Snape reduced to a powder by an explosive _Reducto._ This wasn't the polite duelling Lupin had engaged Filius in. Snape had thrown down the gauntlet, and Lupin was taking the challenge seriously. They darted away from each other's hexes and curses, quickly followed one after the other, the men speeding away from harm, whilst meting it out.

Snape sent a jet of red light streaking at Lupin but all of a sudden Lupin was gone in a whirl and reappeared instantly behind Snape, whipping his arms through Snape's and holding them behind his head uncomfortably.

"That's a move worthy of a Death Eater!" Snape said, breathing heavily.

"That's pure Marauder, Severus," Lupin countered as he loosened his hold, spinning Snape to face him but dropped his hands quickly until he had hold of Snape's wrists. They glared at each other, their eyes dilated, breathing erratically, hearts pumping. Lupin snatched both of Snape's wrists in one hand and with the other grabbed at Snape's crotch. He was hard and Lupin's hand tightened around Snape's erection. Lupin growled deep in his throat and rubbed his own hard cock against Snape's as he caught Snape's mouth with his own, roughly and hungrily and pulled at their clothes.

Snape thought of battling for control, but knew, just by how Lupin was kissing him, he would have no chance of dominating this encounter. The moon was waxing. Even so, Lupin had let Snape take control yesterday because he wanted to empower Snape. Lupin really knew him terribly well. But today, with their adrenaline pumping and surging, Snape had no such luxury of his husband conceding control for the sake of his feelings. Snape would be Lupin's spoils of war. But, if he were honest, he envisaged their duel ending just like this ever since he first watched Lupin duel – watching his sinuous movements in the Great Hall that day had stirred his passion greatly – yes, this post-duel frenzy was exactly what he had hoped for. He was exhilarated from the fight and burning with desire, fuelled by the insistent demands Lupin had started making on his body.

They were naked now, and Lupin had pinned Snape to the floor, Lupin's mouth, teeth and tongue possessively exploring him, his hands holding him, raising him until his fingers prepared him and, growling still, entering him forcefully and wantonly, making Snape cry out, as Lupin bucked into his prostate, making Snape's body arch violently with sheer white hot pleasure through Lupin's dominance, thrusting powerfully and energetically, invigorated by the fight, holding his release as long as possible as Snape melted into it, flowing with it and melding with it until they both thrust equally eagerly and forcefully, until their restraint was tested beyond endurance, cresting and coming powerfully and vocally, and then fitfully slowing, breathing, kissing, and finally smiling.

Lying together, Snape whispered to Lupin's ear, "Take your wand ... "

Lupin lifted himself on one arm from Snape's body to look at him for a moment, and then he understood and his other hand searched beside him, and found his wand. They disengaged and Snape got to his knees, and Lupin followed his lead.

"As we were when we bonded," Snape said and took Lupin's left upper arm with his left hand and Lupin did likewise. They both held their wands in their right hands in between them, slightly inclined to their left and so that the tips crossed.

"Your incantation is _Cognosco Coniugo.*_ Repeat until the wands connect," Snape instructed gently. "When the wands connect, the incantation is _Respiciunt et Non Nocere Coniuge._ Repeat the incantation until the connection bonds the wands."

Lupin began his incantation, never taking his eyes from Snape. Snape then began his incantation: _"Cognosco Virum."_ Lupin's eyebrows raised to hear Snape instruct his wand that Lupin's would be dominant, but Snape closed his eyes briefly to indicate to him not to stop his incantation and carried on chanting.

The chanting became melodic and mesmeric and Snape could feel his magic accumulating in his wand and then it started to hum and Snape's hand became bound to it. _It was starting._ His heart began to pound in his chest. A narrow beam of light shot from each wand crossing each other and then intertwining together.

" _Respiciunt Coniuge et Non Nocere_ ," Lupin began to chant and the repeating and Snape rejoined with: _"Respiciunt Virum et Non Nocere_."

The threads became golden then split out as the thread from Lupin's wand wove itself around Snape's wand and hand, and the thread from Snape's wrapped itself around Lupin's. The threads snaked and divided repeatedly until a bonding mesh formed over both wands and hands, vibrating with raw magic and the golden mesh from Snape's wand gradually became blue, the colour of Lupin's magic he had seen in his wards, and the golden mesh from Lupin's wand became the colour of Snape's magic: silver. The threads iridesced with the vibrations and Snape could feel the emanations sinking into his skin then beyond skin deep. He felt the emanations of Lupin's magic into his very core of magic, making everything seem beyond real: his vision too sharp and his hearing too acute, his skin too sensitive, his heart hammering in his chest as the emanations pulsed. Finally, the emanations on each man flared brightly, jolting through their bodies powerfully, as both their heads tipped back with the force of it and they inhaled sharply.

The wands were bonded. The emanations gradually faded, and the men's bodies calmed as the strands of magic faded from view.

Both men rested back on their heels, as their breathing calmed, still holding each other by the arm and then moved forward to kiss gently.

"Why did you make my wand dominant, Severus?" Lupin asked.

"Partly, let's face it, because you are," Snape said with a lop-sided, almost embarrassed, smile and a tinge of pink to his cheeks, "but also, it's better that your wand dominates mine. I would be expected to use Unforgivables against you, to fight as unfairly as possible. Your wand will react all the more strongly against any spells I cast if it is the dominant wand.

"If we are fighting, I will not be aiming to turn you into a fluffy bunny, Severus! You make it sound like I fight like a girl!" Lupin complained.

"Fought Bellatrix lately, have you? Snape snorted.

"Fair point. Time to test it then, Severus," Lupin said suddenly. They both got up, cleansed and dressed themselves and, without further ceremony, took their stances.

On Snape's count, they began slowly with spells and minor jinxes, none of which caught. They accelerated to nastier jinxes that each man was able to dispel easily. Finally, by their spoken consensus, they unleashed all manner of curses and hexes against each other as fast as they were able, and unguarded by shields. Absolutely none found their mark as the wands led the men.

"A final test," Snape said. "Stand still." Trusting his bonded husband, Lupin stood, his hands loose at his sides. Snape cast the a violent whipping curse towards him followed in quick succession by the Cutting curse and a stinging hex. Lupin's lupine reflexes were always exceptional, but now they had bonded their wands, nothing Snape cast could reach its target. Snape's wand drew Lupin's aim to it instantly, and Lupin's wand repelled (but did not mirror back) the curses, rendering each curse ineffective. To the onlooker, it looked as if Lupin were preternaturally fast in his reactions.

They grinned at each other.

"Will you try the Killing curse again?" Lupin asked.

"I can't cast the Killing curse at you, Remus. You have to _mean_ it. I don't."

Lupin pulled Snape to him in a strong embrace and kissed him roughly. "Pleased to hear it." Then Snape heard a murmured incantation and felt something odd in the seat of his trousers and saw Lupin starting to laugh. He looked behind himself quickly, to see a rabbit's bob tail poking out of his trousers.

"I'll count to five, Lupin, or I _will_ mean it when I cast it, I assure you," Snape hissed dangerously.

oooOOOooo

Snape summoned Tippy to the Room of Requirement to call for some food and drink. The small elf crooned with pleasure to be serving them again and bowed so low her nose brushed the floor. Within minutes, she had returned with cold meats, cheeses, pickles, salad and crusty bread and bottles of Butterbeer and flagons of water and of juice and set them out on a cloth on the floor with cushions for them to sit on. She cooed with satisfaction at her work and disappeared with a small pop.

"There's enough for an army," Snape snorted and then looked at Lupin tucking in happily to enormous mouthfuls, "or not."

"Hungry work, Severus," Lupin said jauntily, noting Snape's look of mild disapproval. "You're inexhaustible after all!" Lupin nudged Snape in the ribs gently and winked at him. "Luckily for me."

"Always to the level of the gutter, Remus," Snape drawled, secretly enjoying the lewd implication of Lupin's words _and that wink!_

"So, tell me about that paint from your wand."

"I wanted to give you a jolt into taking it seriously," Snape said and then raised one eyebrow. "You clearly weren't. But I can't cast a Killing curse at you as I have no intention. So I enchanted my wand that the next spell would be the paint flinging jinx no matter what I said. That way, you'd get the shock I wanted and see how true my aim is and the message would sink in about what can happen if you're unprepared." Snape folded his arms for emphasis.

Lupin smiled. "You got my attention, that's for sure. But what would happen if," Lupin brow furrowed, and his reluctance to say what followed was apparent, "if, for whatever reason, our bond was broken?"

"If our bond breaks, the wand bond also breaks, then may the best wizard win," Snape replied, his voice small, as if he couldn't bear to think, let alone speak, the words he had just articulated.

"Does the bond only deflect aggressive spells? What of others, others that may be necessary?" Lupin asked, as he took at huge mouthful of bread and ham.

"What necessary like force feeding me, you mean?" Snape sneered, but then smiled. "You managed to pin a bob tail on me, didn't you?" Lupin laughed and wrapped his free arm around Snape's shoulder and pulled him to him for a resounding kiss.

"I shouldn't like to think I couldn't create mischief with you at all, Severus. Where's the fun in that?" he grinned. Snape rolled his eyes and turned to his own plate of food.

"Quite. The wand bond recognises intention. It is deep magic. I'm afraid bob tails are not caught by the magic. More's the pity," he drawled. "But it isn't all about fun and tormenting me, you know. We have other magic we need to do too. I want to test your Mind Magic. This is imperative."

"Slave driver," Lupin muttered jokily into his cheese and pickle and then smiled.

* * *

It was the last day of term. Dumbledore had requested Snape attend the Leaving Feast, but had diplomatically left them to their own devices for the day other than that.

After they had eaten yesterday, Snape had tested Lupin's power to resist the Imperius curse. He was impressed. He suspected Lupin's Lycanthropy played a large part in that ability. The inner wolf resisted control so it would bolster any effort to Lupin to do so. He had tried over a long period of time, yet Lupin never once succumbed. Snape was proud of this. He too was adept at resisting the Imperius curse, although sometimes it would suit his purpose to play along to get the aggressor's guard low.

Today, he wanted to test Lupin's Occlumency. He knew Lupin used it when fighting. He'd seen that when he first saw him duel. It had surprised him because Lupin always seemed so open. He himself had been in Lupin's mind many times, although only once uninvited. Although now he had put his mind to it, he had never picked up his thoughts in the way he could pick at so many other people's. Perhaps, Lupin used it more than Snape realised.

They started with Snape testing consensually, then asking Lupin to throw him out of his mind. He did so. Each time, Snape cast more insistently to stay and to begin with, Lupin easily cast him out. As Snape's own force of will became more insistent, Lupin became less able to throw him out of mind.

"Occlude your mind against me if you can't cast me out," Snape instructed. He felt Lupin's lovely serene mind gradually shuttering and closing, becoming dark and obscure.

"Faster, we need to work on getting that in place faster ...".

Snape spent hours instructing Lupin, and demonstrating, having Lupin try to attack his mind to see how strong his Legilimency was as well as demonstrate what a fully Occluded mind should feel like. Lupin's Legilimency wasn't bad but not strong enough to be a weapon as Snape's could be. They would have to work harder through the coming weeks.

* * *

Snape had reported dutifully on the condition of Potter to Lupin after the Leaving Feast and told him all about Dumbledore's speech. It never ceased to amaze Snape that Dumbledore did not encourage more of a mentor relationship between Potter and Lupin. Whilst Snape was quite happy that Lupin not have any more to do with Potter than was necessary, he knew Lupin would have liked to do more to help the son of his childhood friend, but Dumbledore discouraged it, or found excuses - usually the old chestnut of parents complaining about the presence of a werewolf. Snape thought it odd, possibly even suspicious. Perhaps, only he, the great Albus Dumbledore, was allowed to mentor the child - form the child's mind and opinions for what he was destined to do. Snape wouldn't be at all surprised if Dumbledore had deemed it expedient to reserve that position entirely to himself.

They both found they needed a few stiff drinks after that discussion. They were in bed now, and had been discussing Lupin leaving for Grimmauld Place the next day after they had visited the flat. The conversation was not going well.

"Are you able just to feel some jot of sympathy with Sirius, Severus?" Lupin said gently, holding Snape to him in strong arms, and kissing and running his tongue behind Snape's ear.

"Why exactly?" Snape managed, really not in the least interested in the mangy mutt, especially whilst Lupin was tantalising him.

"He hates his old family home and all its memories and yet Albus wants him to hide there, not leave the house at all. He left at 16 ..."

Snape sat up suddenly. If this was a conversation Lupin wanted, he could have it but he wouldn't sully their love-making by talking about Black at the same time. He folded his arms and looked sullenly at Lupin, who had the temerity to look vaguely amused. _Perhaps,_ Snape thought, _I've had too much Firewhiskey_.

"He hates his old family home, does he? Bloody clueless, spoilt, entitled, pureblood baby!" Snape spat. "Prime location in London, probably worth tens of thousands of galleons, full to the brim of old family treasures, and our diddums Black doesn't like it. Well, excuse me if my heart _doesn't_ bleed for him, Remus" Snape sneered.

"Severus!" Lupin chided, having also sat up. "I know you and Sirius have your history, but you really don't know him as you think you do. You may know about some purebloods, but you don't know Sirius as I do. He had a desperately unhappy childhood ..."

"I'm sure," Snape mumbled petulantly.

"Yes, he did. It isn't for me to tell you the details, but he had a terrible time at home, especially after being Sorted into Gryffindor ..."

"Don't be ridiculous, Remus! Remember I was good friends with his brother. Whatever story he spun you, it's rubbish, I assure you," Snape said scornfully.

"I know differently, Severus, and I'm sorry you won't listen to me," Lupin said and shuffled under the covers and turned away onto his side. Snape stared at Lupin's back and his shoulders sagged. Why did he rise to the bait? He should have just mumbled and let Lupin carry on his ministrations. _We'd be shagging by now, for Merlin's sake._

"Remus?" Snape said softly. Lupin didn't answer. "Remus, don't go to sleep like this. It's our last night before ... well, before you leave."

"I wish you wouldn't scoff at me, Severus," Lupin said, still with his back to Snape.

"I'm sorry," Snape said, stroking Lupin's shoulder. "I'm not scoffing at you, never you..."

"You're only apologising because you want sex," Lupin said, wearily.

"No, that's not the reason, but yes, I do. Very much," Snape said as he licked around Lupin's ear and pressed himself to Lupin's back, snaking his hands around Lupin, one finger stroking one nipple which hardened immediately, as the other hand wrapped its long, dexterous fingers around Lupin's very hard cock. Snape smiled. "And so do you ..." he purred in Lupin's ear.

* * *

He stood in their flat. It was a tip. Black had stayed here whilst Lupin had been caring for Snape, using it as a base from which to send charmed letters to members of the original Order. There was certainly no disguising the fact that the man was used to house elves clearing up after him. Either that, or he was just a pig. Snape cast all the charms required to repair, tidy and then clean room by room. He really didn't like the idea of Black sleeping in their bed, but at least Lupin had been at Hogwarts at the time. He stripped the bed clothes to be laundered properly, _sheets to be boil washed!_ Lupin was packing some of his things to take to Grimmauld Place, but not all. They had agreed: this flat was Lupin's home from now on. Dumbledore had summoned Black away so Snape and Lupin would have time there to pack what they needed.

"Last week," Snape said, "I was in the stand for the last task, thinking about coming home to you," Snape sighed as he looked out of the shutters of the window by the bed.

Lupin stopped his packing and joined Snape, wrapping his arms around his waist and planting a light kiss on his cheek. "Tell me what you were thinking, Severus," Lupin murmured seductively, and Snape leaned his head back so Lupin could kiss his neck. "Tell me...". Lupin said, obliging by kissing and licking the exposed muscles of Snape's neck.

"I was ..." he gulped as his nerves jangled in his neck under Lupin's tongue, "trying to decide ... where ..."

"Where what, Severus?" Lupin whispered as he wandlessly, wordlessly, drew his hand down Snape's summer robe to undo it, and slipped his hands inside to stroke his chest, making him arch backwards more. "Hmmm, no shirt ... lovely," Lupin rumbled, his voice becoming deeper.

Snape was becoming inarticulate now. He didn't think he could remember what he had been thinking exactly when the golden shower had started, because all he was thinking now was of the hands that were running across his body, setting fire to his skin, and downwards and the mouth that was kissing and sucking at his prone neck, sending thrills jolting down to his groin, as his own hands reached back to run through Lupin's hair

"Where ... in the flat ... I would shag you ..." he finally managed to gasp as Lupin nipped at his ear and behind it. Lupin hummed deeply. Lupin loved Snape to talk during sex. Snape had no idea why, especially as it was one of the hardest things to do for him by his nature, and when being ravished, even harder!

"Hmmm. Where then, Severus? Tell me where," Lupin was almost growling now and Snape was helpless. Last week the moon waned, but now it waxed so Snape taking Lupin wasn't going to happen. But he didn't care. The issue now was where. Lupin's hands were in his trousers now, one hand wrapped firmly around Snape's cock, teasing it delicately and deftly, and his other hand slowly massaged his balls. Snape didn't care where. Now was all he was interested in and here would do!

" ... bed," he mumbled, it being the nearest surface to them. Lupin chuckled in his ear. Of course, he knew Snape had said the nearest place. Snape suspected Lupin just enjoyed Snape struggling to form words that normally came so readily to him, enjoyed his submission to and immersion in passion.

"Here it is then," Lupin purred and pulled Snape's robe from his shoulders and laid him on the bed to remove his boots and trousers and then leaning in over him to lick firmly up the length of Snape's cock and nibbling and licking at the head, making him groan throatily as he held Lupin's hair. Snape spelled Lupin's clothes away, still holding his hair, not wanting that hot mouth to stop for anything as he writhed under it, vaguely aware that Lupin was pulling his hips to the edge of the bed until his feet touched the floor. Still mouthing and licking Snape's cock, Lupin worked his fingers into Snape's opening, occasionally his thumb circling the Claiming bite above it, tightening his muscles violently around Lupin's fingers as they found his prostate. Snape cried out at the intensity of the thrills and burning shocking his body from Lupin's mouth, fingers and bite, and cried out with each intense thrill: surely there could be no more ecstasy than this?

He barely registered as the mouth left him as the thumb caressed the bite rhythmically as the fingers worked him, then the fingers left but the thumb continued to send thrills inside him as Lupin moved between his legs and then thrust his cock into him full length in one swift motion. Snape arched and cried out at the sharp fullness of it. Lupin stopped, fully embedded, breathing sharply and murmuring Snape's name and Snape could barely breathe at all, so turned on, so full and so on fire, his mind unfocused and both body and mind filled with thick, hot desire.

Lupin moved them both, cradling Snape's back, until Lupin lay on the floor with Snape impaled on him. It was all Snape could do to grind himself on Lupin's cock as his body shocked at the hot column of exquisite heat he felt slice through his body. He could barely register anything but that as he arched against it, his head tipped back, savouring it. Then he heard Lupin encouraging him to move, to ride him, to ride him hard and saying his name softly, breathlessly as he began to stroke Snape's erection as the other hand held his thigh. Snape wasn't sure he could take more and he gingerly began to move himself up, feeling Lupin's cock draw on him deliciously as he breathed in sharply and screwed his eyes shut at the feel and listened to Lupin's low moaning as he reached the tip of Lupin's cock and held himself there before grinding forcefully back down, making them both grunt.

Lupin begged him to ride him, and Snape found his rhythm, measured and controlled at first and then, as their passion burned brighter, faster and more forcefully, Snape bracing himself with his arms, one in front and one behind him as Lupin thrust in time beneath, begging Snape to come as he moved, entranced. He didn't want to, although his body screamed for it. His mind wanted this sensation just here at tipping point – here on the precipice of the shattering of his body and mind – forever. And as he thought it, through the blossoming patterns on the back of eyelids that thrusting onto his own prostate induced, his body succumbed and he cried out Lupin's name repeatedly, hearing his own name growled back, and his orgasm cracked open drenching him in waves of ecstasy that dizzied his mind as they ebbed away.

They stayed in place, breathing, sweating, their eyes shut, for a long time as their bodies sought to calm themselves. Finally, Lupin sat up and took the kneeling Snape in his arms and kissed him lightly as Snape's arms wrapped around him in turn, and he straightened his legs out behind Lupin then circling those around him as they kissed languorously, Lupin humming his satisfaction deep in his throat. They would have to get up and clean themselves soon, although Merlin knew, Snape had never wanted to stay on a floor so much in his life as now. But, they had to.

Albus would be here soon. He was to cast the Fidelius Charm over the flat for them, and he would be their Secret Keeper. Only the three of them were to know of this place for maximum security. Black would never be able to find this place again once the Charm was cast, which suited Snape just fine. But more importantly than that, when Lupin and he were in their marital home at least they would be safe from the Dark Lord. They would only come here to be together, they had already decided that. Apart from those occasions, Lupin would be at Grimmauld Place.

And Snape? Well, unfortunately for Snape, this coming summer meant summonses from the Dark Lord, reporting to Dumbledore at the house of Sirius Black, and living at Spinner's End. It was not at all what they had planned. It certainly wasn't a postponed honeymoon in Greece. But war was coming ... they all knew it. War required different plans.

* * *

**A/N:** _Cognosco Coniugo.*_ Recognise your spouse.  
 _Respiciunt Coniuge et Non Nocere.*_ Respect your spouse and do not harm him.  
 _Virum*_ – husband.


	49. The First Order Meeting

Dumbledore accompanied Snape to Spinner's End. Snape hadn't asked him to, and he was surprised when he offered after he and Lupin had said their goodbyes after the Fidelius Charm had been worked. They Apparated outside the house and Snape cast the various Charms to admit them. They had considered linking the flat to the Floo network, but in the end Snape decided against it to keep the wards as secure as possible.

He walked into the small sitting room that was lined with books, feeling his heart sinking as he did so. He had only been back briefly last summer to collect some things for his summer with Lupin and had not returned since. It never ceased to surprise him how the malignancy of the memories of this place always threatened to overwhelm him. He had not expected to come back here this summer, or at least, not to stay.

He went to the small, poorly appointed kitchen and was surprised to see bags of provisions on the narrow, worn, melamine countertop.

"I took the liberty, Severus, of acquiring some provisions," Albus said softly.

"I am capable of feeding myself, Albus," Snape said shortly.

"Of course you are, dear boy," Albus said cheerily. "Of course. But I thought that, since you will be at the beck and call of Voldemort, and the demands of the Order, I could help to ease the way." Dumbledore stood by the small window and fingered the yellowing net curtain to look at the small concrete yard behind the house. "I know that you will miss Remus over this time. I am sorry it is necessary for your both." He turned back to Snape and smiled.

"If I may, I like to assign the house-elf, Tippy, to you during this holiday." Albus cast a quick cleaning spell and sat in the threadbare armchair by the window.

"And how will a house elf help me if I'm missing Remus exactly?" Snape drawled.

Albus gave a small chuckle. "I thought the benefit would be two-fold. A hand around the place, help with your potions, someone to ... ah ... take messages to places where others can't go, for instance." Snape narrowed his eyes shrewdly.

"But also, and this is important to me, I need to know someone is here to get you the help you need ... if necessary." They let the words hang in the air for a while. The Dark Lord had hurt Snape worse than ever in the graveyard. It was possible it would never be that bad again, but Snape thought there was every possibility it could escalate also. A house-elf in attendance would not even be registered by the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters, and she would be free to get help from Poppy, Dumbledore or even Lupin. It made sense, but Snape wasn't at all sure he could stomach a house-elf's enthusiasm in the house.

"She'll get in the way of my brewing, I'm sure ..." Snape started.

"She can be based at Hogwarts, if you prefer then you call her when you need her," Dumbledore persisted calmly.

"I'm sure Tippy would be appalled to be bound to such a house as this," Snape said, looking around the gloomy hovel.

"She is always asking about her 'magic gentlemen'," Dumbledore said amiably. Snape raised one eyebrow in enquiry and Dumbledore smiled. "I expect you were rather imbued with magic when you returned from the mountain when she was waiting on you." Snape could have done without the twinkle of amusement in Dumbledore's eyes as he said this and crossed his arms. "She will be bound to you and Remus as a couple, rather than to this house. I'm sure she'll be delighted to turn her particular brand of magic loose on this house," Dumbledore said as looked over his glasses at two years' worth of accumulated dust.

Snape looked around him. He certainly didn't want to spend his time cleaning the place. He was near to finishing the _Electio_ Potion so she could be useful. And, if he were truly honest with himself, it would be good to know he could just call on the little elf if he needed to. It would be reassuring. He couldn't deny that prolonged periods alone in this house had previously led to rather too many maudlin reveries fuelled by bottles of Firewhiskey than was healthy. He was too proud a man to disgrace himself like that in front of a house-elf. It would be helpful to know he was watched. Guarded. He nodded curtly and Dumbledore smiled back and summoned the little house-elf.

* * *

Saturday was theirs. Snape had arrived at the flat early, but Lupin was already there and waiting to take him to bed. They had only been apart for a week, but the full moon was but four days away and both men had been needful and demanding.

Now, two hours later, they lay panting and spent, Lupin lying over Snape, his weight on his elbows as they kissed lightly until eventually Lupin moved to Snape's side but still held him tightly as they talked of their respective relocations.

"The house is infested with Dark magic," Lupin said. "Trying to make it even safe for human habitation will be a task in itself. The house itself is filthy with dirt and vermin as well. It been empty since Sirius's mother died in ten years ago. Spiders, doxys." Lupin shuddered. "The house-elf is quite mad. I should imagine because he's been shut in that house alone for a decade." Lupin shook his head. "He clearly loathes Sirius with a passion and he is trained to spot anyone who isn't a pureblood. The smell of me sends the creature into a frenzy of half-breed insults." Lupin gave his usual self-effacing laugh, as if being insulted on sight were to be expected. The acceptance annoyed Snape on Lupin's behalf. When they were free, he would teach Lupin otherwise. "There is a life-size portrait of Sirius's mother that is completely demented. We try to keep her hidden behind a curtain, discretion being the better part of valour, after all."

In spite of himself, Snape found himself interested in what lurked in the house, and Lupin's ingenuity in dealing with them and listened as he told of the cursed books in the library, which Snape would dearly like to inspect, the enchanted furniture and trinkets, all designed to harm the unsuspecting.

"Albus has asked Arthur and Molly Weasley to stay there over the summer with their children to help us try to clean it." Snape was somewhat heartened that Lupin would not be alone with Black, not because he didn't trust Lupin. He trusted him totally. But he didn't trust Black at all.

"The Blacks always were always great exponents of Dark magic," Snape commented, then he smiled slowly with the realisation. "So, you and Black will be on cleaning duty."

"All hands to the pump, Severus," Lupin laughed. "Some of those artefacts should really be disposed of by the Ministry. So far, it's just me and Sirius against the combined malignant forces of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black and the family's homicidal house elf."

"Speaking of house elves, Remus, it appears we have acquired one as a couple," Snape said and outlined his conversation with Dumbledore and then described how Tippy had managed to render his childhood home spotless within twenty four hours. "It's still a hovel," he said lightly, "but an exceptionally clean hovel – if that's not an oxymoron."

"So, Professor Snape is now the proud owner of a house elf," Lupin teased. "How very pureblood of you, Severus."

"Marital property, I think you'll find," Snape responded tartly. "We are, after all, her 'magical gentlemen'."

"Wonderful!" Lupin laughed deeply. "Perhaps, she'd bring us a late breakfast in bed, if we called," Lupin mused.

"I have no doubt, but I'd prefer to be showered and dressed, if you don't mind – if you can hold your appetite that long," Snape retorted.

"I'm not at all sure I want you to get out of bed yet," Lupin murmured. "Sustenance now might be a good thing. Build up your strength ... we only have the day after all."

Snape was about to snort a response, but Lupin called for the elf: "Tippy!" with a huge grin at Snape's look of shock.

The small house-elf popped into view at Lupin's side of the bed. Snape thought he might explode with embarrassment to be found in the middle of the morning in bed with Lupin, but Tippy was ecstatic, grasping her long bony fingers together as she took in the sight of both men.

"Oh, Master Lupin, Tippy is so happy to see you as well as Professor Snape," she swung herself into an absurdly low bow. "What can Tippy get for her gentlemen?"

Lupin ordered what sounded like an inordinately large amount of food for them with instructions for bed trays that made Snape wince and the house elf happily popped away. Lupin turned on his side to face Snape and ran his index finger down Snape's chest to his navel as he rested his head on his other hand.

"Did it ever occur to you that Albus allowed us this elf so we would have more time together?" he purred. Snape sat up fully in the bed and wrapped the counterpane tightly around himself defensively, only amusing Lupin more.

"I do not intend to be caught _in flagrante_ by our house-elf, Remus!" he said sternly. "Sit up now." Lupin laughed, nudging Snape lightly and sat up as Tippy popped back with an enormous tray overloaded with food and drink. Levitating this, she set out the bed trays over each man and set their places, plates, cutlery and their napkins. Snape found himself flushing as the elf cooed her appreciation for the task set for her as she served up the late breakfast, piping hot.

"Tippy is so proud to be helping her magical gentlemen. It is such an honour for Tippy. Never has she known such magical power. Her gentlemen must be the greatest of wizards. She has brought the very best of everything the kitchen has to offer ..." On and on the little elf wittered in her high, fluting voice, even with Snape's eyes boring into her, willing her to cease. The more he stared, the more he felt Lupin body shaking with barely suppressed laughter.

"That will be all for now, Tippy," Lupin said kindly and, as the elf popped away, he turned to Snape, his blue eyes swimming with the tears of laughter at Snape's outrage as he stabbed venomously at the sausage on his plate, eating quietly while his embarrassment subsided.

"It may well be that's what Albus thought," Snape continued eventually. "But have you considered it was to give us more time for training?"

oooOOOooo

Snape returned to Spinner's End, unhappy to leave Lupin, but physically satisfied and looking forward to sleep, albeit alone. Although not called, the elf was there with cup of tea for him and then disappeared from view. He removed his robe and sat at the small table to drink it. After their breakfast, Snape had persuaded Lupin that they needed to continue their training. Lupin had made fine progress with his Occlumency since they trained in the Room of Requirement. They trained all afternoon and Snape was well pleased that Lupin would be the equal to blocking most Death Eaters' Legilimency skills now.

It was then that Snape started to teach Lupin something he had been working on for them to share. He thought it would work, although he'd never tried it before. They were soul bonded and had bonded their wands and he was Lupin's Claimed mate, with Lupin's Lycanthropic Claim suffusing him through the bites so that Lupin could even influence his dreams. Because of all these things, he believed that this should work. He hoped they could forge a connection between their minds so they should need neither spell nor wand to speak mind to mind. He also believed that because they were bonded to each other in so many ways, it would make their connection unique and should not weaken their Occlumency

He explained what he thought to Lupin as they sat cross legged opposite each other. Lupin raised a hand to stroke Snape's face. "I think it's the most wonderful thing I've ever heard," Lupin said simply.

They had cast _Legilimens_ together, eyes and wands locked and found themselves subsumed in each other's minds. At first it was disorientating and confusing, but it was Lupin that found Snape first.

_Severus. I am here._

Snape heard Lupin's mind voice quite distinctly, just as he had when he had visited Lupin's mind, but now he didn't know whose mind they were in.

_Both, I think_ Lupin's mind spoke. _The connection is open between us._

_It's confusing,_ Snape thought.

_Perhaps, it's just that I am accustomed to your visits, my love,_ Lupin's mind spoke, his warmth tangible to Snape's mind. _Don't be distracted by what you feel around you. I am trying not to listen to your mind - although Severus - I have to say - one day you should let me visit you the way you have visited me._

Snape felt an involuntary shiver of pleasure. Yes, they should do that when they had some time, he resolved. In the meantime, he tried to concentrate on just hearing Lupin's mind speaking to him, rather than the sensation of him in his mind.

_Ignore what's around you. Just listen to me, Severus. Try not to see anything, experience anything. Just listen._ Lupin's mind carried on talking as Snape adjusted to the feeling of an alien presence in his mind and that alien presence being welcome! Then he filtered again until it was just Lupin's voice, narrowing down his reception to just this.

_It seems you're a natural at this, Remus,_ he noted wryly.

_More practised at trusting you with my mind,_ Lupin responded. They spoke together like this for over an hour and then they pulled out of each other's minds and cancelled the spell. Then, they put their wands aside and locked eyes.

_Severus?_

_Yes! Remus. You hear me?_

_Yes!_

They talked to cement the connection for another hour. It was late afternoon now. Lupin ordered dinner from Tippy and over dinner, they practised their connection.

_No-one will ever criticise me for talking with my mouth full again!_ Lupin laughed.

Snape was delighted with their success. He'd had no idea the connection would take so quickly. He finished the tea Tippy had made for him. It had really been a marvellous day, he thought. Then he smiled, rather wolfishly, as he recalled how they had showered together at the end of the evening and Lupin had taken him passionately and forcefully for the final time that day under the drumming water. It had been thrilling.

He thought that would be the memory he would nurse himself to sleep with tonight, and was making his way up the concealed staircase when he felt the Dark Mark burn. He Summoned his cloak and mask, cursing the Dark Lord for polluting his day, he Occluded quickly and deeply and, as he re-robed, called for the house-elf.

"Tippy. Tell Headmaster Dumbledore immediately that Professor Snape has been called." With that, he turned and Disapparated to the Mark.

* * *

Now that Snape had been called, Dumbledore called the first meeting of the Order of the Phoenix. It had only been two weeks since the Dark Lord's rebirth. Things were happening fast.

Dumbledore and Snape Apparated into a small square surrounded by Georgian townhouses in an area that had clearly seen better days. Dumbledore passed a parchment to Snape on which the words _The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London_ were written in his Victorian copperplate manuscript. Snape memorised it and then watched as number twelve expanded into view.

Snape pursed his lips. He was completely ambivalent about this meeting. He hadn't seen Lupin for days, except in the mirror, and he felt a small thrill at the thought of seeing him, but it was not as if he could even really speak to him here. Not with Black and the other Order members. That would be hard enough. On top of that, he had to be in Black's house. He very much disliked that thought. He had no doubt that man would start hurling insults at the sight of him; he always had. Why should anything change? Dumbledore believed he had Obliviated Sirius, but after what Lupin had told him, Snape wondered.

They passed through into the gloomy, grimy hallway with its many portraits sleeping noisily. It certainly was as filthy as Lupin had told him. It was oppressive in malignancy. As Snape walked through the narrow hall, it struck him quite forcefully how his and Black's houses felt alike: houses steeped in neglect and malice. He shook the unwelcome thought of any similarity with Black away from him.

"Well, well, well, Snivellus." Snape felt his already rigid spine stiffen further to hear the loathed voice.

"Black," he gave a curt nod to the man standing at an open door further down the hall. Snape saw Lupin standing behind him. He caught his blue eyes.

_Please, don't react Severus. Be the better man._

Snape continued to walk, unil he was stopped in his tracks by the sudden shrieking and howling coming from a wall. Snape stood before the portrait as Walburga Black gave it her very best. Rather than backing away, Snape peered into the portrait, taking in all the detail of the demented woman with her bulging eyes and sallow skin. Wizarding portraits were very often an accurate portrayal of their sitters. _How_ _interesting_ , he thought. He had always suspected Black's heritage was less than stable and here was the proof.

_"Filthy unnatural, half-blood scum, dishonouring the house of my ancestors with your presence!"_ the portrait continued to shriek as Black rushed up to it.

"My mother certainly seems to have the measure of you," Black snarled, as he pulled ineffectually at the curtain.

"I certainly see the family resemblance," Snape sneered, and with a lazy flick of his wand closed the heavy curtain over the demented portrait and swept past Black, sneering at his inability to do the same.

He followed Dumbledore into the large kitchen, with a long refectory table occupying most of it. Molly, Arthur and Bill Weasley were already there, Molly tending various saucepans on the large range as Arthur and Dumbledore spoke to each other in urgent whispers.

Lupin took a seat at the end of the table and gave Snape a small smile. "Severus," he said, just as he would have done all those years ago before they truly knew each other. "Lupin," Snape nodded.

_Sorry_ , he thought simply.

_I understand._

"Well," Black said, brimful of false bonhomie. "I never would have thought I would be playing host to Snivelly in my dear old family home. But then, where better for Death Eating scum than this house! The sooner this house is cleansed of such Dark filth, the better."

"Yes, indeed, cleaning a house of notorious Dark wizards such as this is always arduous and requires our finest warriors, no doubt," Snape said, silkily, his eyes locked with Black. He knew Lupin was glaring at them both, but the man was just too much. "I'm sure you will do the job justice," Snape hissed, his fingers now enclosing his wand as he watched the man's reactions.

Black's jaw twitched.

"I think that that's quite enough," Lupin said quietly, looking between the two men. Snape took his hand away from his wand and looked away.

"No, Remus. I'm not sure it is," Black said dangerously. "Why would you stick up for him? He lost you your job. Peter escaped because he interfered, and I couldn't clear my name. If he hadn't interfered, I would be a free man and not stuck in this house! No, I don't think it's enough at all!" Black yelled, advancing on Snape.

Lupin delicately inserted himself between the two, the air in the room heavy as all the occupants watched the three men expectantly.

"Albus trusts him, Sirius. Severus is on our side now," Lupin said quietly, but Snape heard the pain in his voice.

"So _he_ says," Black jibed, then looked Lupin fully in the face. "You know he's Dark through and through, don't you Remus? You know what he is?" Snape heard the plaintive note. Black knew there was something between them – Snape could hear it in the pleading.

"Sirius!" Dumbledore said sharply. "I appreciate the use of the house greatly. Please do not make me regret it." Dumbledore took a seat at the head of the table. "Good evening, Molly. It's very good to see you again," Dumbledore said pleasantly as Molly gave him a large mug of tea.

"Severus," Molly said, her matronly smile firmly fixed, as she passed him a mug also. "Bit peaky still?" she asked, but it was a statement of her opinion and she patted him on the shoulder briskly. Snape gave her a tight smile so Black did not see. He would like to tell the world that he loathed the likes of Molly Weasley, but it would not be the truth. The woman had brought up seven children with practically no money and her children (in so far as Snape could interest himself in children at all) were well-adjusted and, on the whole, quite talented: Bill was a powerful and clever wizard; Charlie not quite as clever as his older brother, but still a fine wizard. Percy was bright and hard-working. Now, those twins! He inwardly groaned at the bane of his teaching career, but Merlin knew, they were talented to the power of two! He suspected that Ronald rather broke the chain, but then there was the seventh child: that red-headed witch was powerful. He wondered if she even realised how powerful she was. But then, both Molly and Arthur were very magical. As a couple, they intrigued him how they were so unlike him. Had they been ambitious, he was sure they would have been purebloods to rival the Malfoys or the Zabinis, but it was of no interest to them at all. Their family and their values were their lives. He respected it.

He drank his tea, taking in the sights and sounds of the people now arriving and gathering around him. Whatever Molly was cooking smelt delicious, but Snape had already resolved not to stay after his report. He didn't like socialising and there would be no purpose. He was a double agent after all. The Dark Lord thought he was his man; Dumbledore knew Snape was his. The easiest way was to keep himself separate from all. All except one – the one he couldn't allow himself to converse with. Not meaningfully anyway. That man was currently sitting next to Black, who was intent on monopolising Lupin's attention, whispering against him no doubt.

To the left was Kingsley Shacklebolt. He knew him since the first wizarding war when he was Moody's second in command. He was an Auror whom Moody had convinced of the return of the Dark Lord. Magical, fierce and loyal. Snape hoped there would be more like him.

Mundungus Fletcher. There simply wasn't anything to say about him other than Snape hoped there wouldn't be too many more like him. There was Elphias Doge, Dedalus Diggle, Emmeline Vance, Sturgis Podmore and Hestia Jones. Minerva entered, and gave Snape a small nod, "Severus," she said briskly as she took her seat next to him.

An elderly lady, Arabella Figg, arrived then, together with Alastor Moody, and - it couldn't be – Nymphadora Tonks. Snape's face showed nothing, but his mind was reeling. Had Dumbledore found her? Had he Obliviated her? Everything could now go wrong. Moody introduced Tonks to the table's occupants.

"Wotcher!" she said to the assembled room, looking around the table, acknowledging her cousin and Lupin with a friendly wave and carrying on around the table. Her eyes met Snape's. "Miss Tonks," he said curtly, as if the last time he had seen her was as her Potions professor. He wondered what, if anything, she remembered of the fight with the vampyr. She nodded and he noted a vaguely unsettled expression cross her features, snatching at something forgotten, but it passed. His eyes briefly met Lupin's.

_I've spoken to her, Severus. She doesn't remember. Don't worry._

He looked away quickly. Even talking like this would be preferable, but it still required eye contact which he couldn't afford to prolong so he stared into the middle distance until he was required to deliver his report. Black was watching him closely, he noticed. _Obliviated, my foot._

Dumbledore indicated for Snape to begin.

"I was summoned to a Death Eater meeting on Saturday night," Snape began, noting a small flinch from Lupin that Snape had been summoned so soon after they had left each other. "The Dark Lord ..."

"He's nothing more than Voldemort in this house ..." Black hissed vehemently.

" ... is still angry," Snape continued doggedly over Black's interruption, "that Potter escaped and alerted the one wizard he wanted kept in the dark. He had hoped to amass followers in secret and then reveal his rebirth with a show of force." There was a susurration around the table. "Of course," Snape raised his voice to quell the interruptions – he was not here for a discussion after all – just to report, "he has still charged his supporters with gaining new recruits. Greyback is to commune with the werewolves. The Dark Lord has adherents on the continent who are talking with the Giants. Macnair has been charged with trying to open a parlay with the Goblins, although I see very little prospect of success there. Of course, the Dementors' allegiance can be taken as read." The commenting amongst the others began again, and again, Snape overrode it.

"The Dark Lord has also required ... something that he did not have before. He believes it will make a considerable difference to his ability to defeat the child."

"The child has a name, Snivellus. His name is Harry," Black interrupted again.

"Yes, yes, Sirius," Dumbledore said quickly with a shushing gesture of his hand, leaning forward. "What is it that Voldemort is after, Severus?"

"He seeks the original Prophecy." Snape could feel the sides of his own cheeks burn at the mention of it – that it was he who had divulged it, part-heard, to the Dark Lord leading to the murder of his friend. "He only heard it partially before. He believes the full prophecy will arm him better this time." The table was silent now as all its occupants looked to Dumbledore.

"Does he?" Dumbledore murmured and sat back heavily and drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. "Does he indeed?" Dumbledore ran his index finger along his mouth in thought.

"Our most pressing concern is the protection of the Prophecy, Dumbledore announced. "Only those about whom a prophecy is made may retrieve it. None of Voldemort's henchmen will be able to, although they may try. Sooner or later, Voldemort will be forced out into the open if he wishes to retrieve it."

"We need to patrol the Department of Mysteries then," chimed in Kingsley, "although it will need to be a clandestine operation."

"I have a spare invisibility cloak. We'll need a rota of volunteers and a route of patrol," Moody barked.

"I'll be able to get the blueprints of the Ministry to work out the routes from Ragnok, I'm sure," said Bill. "They may not have picked a side yet, but thumbing their noses at the Ministry is always agreeable to the Goblins." He smiled crookedly.

"Good, good," Dumbledore nodded. "I'll leave you to start on those details. Hagrid and Madame Maxime of Beauxbatons have already gone abroad to try to convince the Giants to consider our cause." Dumbledore paused and then said: "Remus, I think we need you to try to make contact with as many unaffiliated packs as possible."

Snape's blood ran cold. _He didn't even warn me he was going to ask this of my husband, let alone discuss it with me._ Snape's jaw worked as he bit down on what he wanted to say. His eyes briefly caught Lupin's and softened when he saw how unhappy Lupin was with the request and how his face had drained. He wanted to touch his hand in reassurance. He couldn't. He didn't. It galled him.

"Of course, Albus," Lupin said. "I'll research the whereabouts of the packs and get onto it."

Black placed his hand on Lupin's shoulder and squeezed. It was nothing: merely the comforting gesture of a friend, _but for_ Black's prolonged stare of challenge at Snape whilst he did this. Snape did not react but he knew now that Black remembered Dumbledore's office. He briefly looked at Lupin, who was waiting to catch his eye.

_Ignore it, Severus, please. We will speak tomorrow._

Snape thought it was unlikely they would do much speaking tomorrow for it was the full moon. He had been been looking forward to it until now. If Lupin was sent to run with the feral wolves, there was even more to worry about. How could Snape protect him then?

* * *


	50. Spinner's End

They met at the flat at lunchtime. Tippy had provided lunch. Snape ate, but Lupin wasn't hungry and he was fractious and argumentative, more so than usual for a full moon. The reasons soon became apparent.

"When we spoke through the mirror, you didn't tell me you were summoned to Voldemort after we left here on Saturday. Why?" Lupin snapped as Snape finished his lunch.

"He didn't hurt me. I didn't want to worry you as I was unharmed and I reported fully at the meeting. When we spoke, we had better things to ... do. I .. I .." Snape tailed off as he saw Lupin's eyes narrowing. Snape felt a flush of embarrassment mixed with shame. He hadn't meant to hurt Lupin, he just hadn't wanted to worry him. The look on Lupin's face showed him he had been mistaken. He didn't like this change that happened in Lupin's personality on the day of the full moon, even though it was part and parcel of the behaviour that drove Lupin's feral lust that Snape so craved. It was his duality.

"I don't want to find out with everyone else, Severus. I am not everyone else," Lupin barked, then inhaled sharply and looked off into the distance, his top teeth biting onto his lower lip.

"You know I meant nothing by it," Snape said, placatingly. "I will tell you first in future. Will you do the same?" he added.

Lupin nodded, sighing again, and they fell into silence for a while. Then Lupin seemed to soften. "I'm sorry about Sirius," he said. "I know he's difficult to deal with. A big kid really. I don't think Albus's Memory Charm took properly and he knows there's something between us. It's making him angry. I think it would be better to tell him, but Albus says not." He emitted a soft noise of annoyance. "It's all well and good for him to say that. Albus has forbidden Sirius from leaving the house. That's gone down very badly so Sirius is already like a caged animal and he'll only get worse as time goes on because he has nothing to distract him from worrying at half a memory. And now, I've told him I won't spend the full moon with him in his animagus form. He's upset and angry." Lupin exhaled heavily and looked off to the distance again then turned to Snape, his eyes intense.

"Sirius used to look after me at the full moon. I mean: he really cared for me, Severus – he learnt everything about werewolves to understand me, learnt healing spells for me. Of course, it was also an enormous rebellion for him to be friends with me, a half-breed – his little gang of a blood traitor, half blood and half breed, and Lily made a Muggle-born too!" He laughed softly. "But there was genuine kindness there too," Lupin said, wistfully. "He thinks everything should be the same as it was fourteen years ago – that we can just pick up from there. He thinks I'm betraying him by not running with him."

Lupin leant the side of his face against one hand. He looked tired and stressed, rather than harsh now, his eyes sad.

Snape felt his insides burn with jealousy that he tried to disguise. "Do you want to run with him, Remus?" he asked quietly, almost fearing the answer as surely the wolf must prefer the company of a mutt if they were to run.

"Before my friends became animagi, I was incarcerated at the full moon, and I tore myself apart. I feared every full moon for the unremitting pain not just of the transformation but of the injuries I would inflict on myself in my imprisonment. They became animagi so they could run with me – so I would be in the open air and distracted and then wouldn't hurt myself when I was the wolf. They were unsupervised and unregistered. It was dangerous for them to even attempt it. What my friends did for me at school was the greatest kindness friends could do for someone like me. Do you understand that? The risk? The kindness?"

Snape affirmed quietly, afraid what might be said next: that the debt of gratitude Lupin owed Black was greater than their love.

"Severus," Lupin said, his face gentling as he held Snape's chin, "I will never forget how wonderful that was for me at that time: my first friends," he said, a soft wistful look on his features, "and getting through the full moon without too much pain. But life moves on. Boys become men. Cubs become wolves. Nothing will ever replace being with my mate at full moon. It is what I am designed for. It is what I now live for – this time with you. I never dreamt that my full moons could be a time of joy for me, until I had you."

Snape not only felt an immense wave of relief wash over him and his heart fill with joy, but also the distinct shift in the air that brought the change in Lupin as he watched the harshness and weariness leave his features fully, and his body lose its weakness and fill out. The moon was rising and Lupin moved in closer to Snape, looming over him. Snape could smell his scent becoming stronger.

"If I had a wife, a little woman that Sirius could relate to, he would be understanding. That it is you is going to be hard for him when he eventually finds out. But it's not optional, Severus. He will have to learn." His mouth enveloped Snape's hungrily as he held Snape by his shoulders and took him to the floor.

* * *

The next morning, after Snape had taken Lupin gently after they had bathed, and Tippy had provided a breakfast fit for royalty, they discussed that which had upset them both so much at the Order meeting: that Lupin was to find and run with the feral wolves. In a matter of days of enquiries amongst other werewolves of Lupin's acquaintance and intelligence Kingsley and Tonks had passed on, he had located a number of packs.

"I'm going to start with a pack that runs out of the New Forest. It's twenty strong. I've decided to go tomorrow. I suppose there is no reason to delay." Lupin looked very unhappy but resigned.

Snape felt his mouth dry out. "How long ..." he croaked, then coughed. "How long will you be gone?"

Lupin sighed heavily. "I don't know. I can only play it by ear. Ideally, I want to be back in time to take my Wolfsbane. That's certainly my plan. I will have to be back with you for the full moon, or we will both be ill again ..." Lupin ruffled his own hair and drew his palms across his face. Snape saw the traces of worry line Lupin's face.

"That long?" Snape gasped. Lupin nuzzled Snape's neck.

"As long it takes I suppose to try to talk to the leader, assess their loyalties, try to persuade them. But ... oh Severus ... I don't want to go." Lupin screwed his eyes shut as if the admission cost him real physical and mental effort. "Do you think me very weak?"

"No," Snape said quietly and pulled Lupin's hands to him. "How can you think it?"

"You go before Voldemort, knowing what he could do to you. You do that for us. You are so very brave, it breaks my heart." Lupin took his hands from Snape's and cupped Snape's face in his hands. "And yet, here I am scared when I don't yet know what I'll face. That must make me a terrible coward."

"Not a bit of it Remus. Sometimes, the unknown can be far more frightening." But Snape wondered how much of it was unknown. Lupin had run with the wolves before. He had been beaten on more than one occasion. Some packs allowed their Lycanthropic nature to dominate them and were violent and aggressive, dirty and animalistic; not all, but some. Snape understood that Lupin would find it difficult to be with those who represented how his life could have been. Some packs were only a scintilla away from being in the Dark Lord's service and would react very badly to infiltration. No indeed, he thought Lupin was frightened for very good reason. He feared for Lupin's safety more than he feared for his own.

* * *

It had been five days since Lupin had left to find the pack in the New Forest. Snape had had a brief conversation with Lupin through the mirror on the first night, but had heard nothing since. He had fire-called Dumbledore, but he had heard nothing either. It wasn't long, but they hadn't been out of contact since they'd had the mirrors, except for that one argument over Moody. He kept the mirror on him at all times and kept looking at it, as if by looking, it would will Lupin to speak to it. He was feeling sick with worry.

Now, for the sixth day running, Tippy had prepared his meals unbidden again. Snape knew it would be Dumbledore's orders and he found it intrusive.

"What is the meaning of this, Tippy? I have not ordered breakfast," he said shortly as he came down to a table laid for breakfast, with cereal, toast, conserves, juice and tea.

The small house-elf wrung her fingers in the hem of her Hogwarts tunic. "Headmaster Dumbledore says Tippy must see to it that Professor Snape eats properly." Her wide brown eyes gazed up at him apologetically, as she shuffled from one foot to another nervously before his black-eyed stare, just like any first year student.

He hated the old man's interference, but knew he was more than capable of forgetting food all together when he was here at Spinner's End, and now he worried about Lupin constantly, he was even less likely to think of calling the house-elf. Could he really blame Dumbledore at all? And this poor scrap before him: if he didn't let her off the hook soon, she would start punishing herself in the alarming manner of house-elves. He allowed his expression to soften before the small house-elf wore holes in her tunic.

"A compromise then: I will take a light breakfast and a cooked dinner each day. No pudding. I prefer not to take lunch. Return to Headmaster Dumbledore and say this is Professor Snape's compromise. Go now." Tippy popped away and Snape exhaled heavily and sat at the small table and made a reluctant start of the cereal and toast, although really only interested in the tea.

Tippy returned and bowed low. "Headmaster Dumbledore says you are a wise man and Tippy is lucky indeed to serve such a powerful wizard and ..."

"Tippy. Enough." Tippy bowed her head, abashed, then raised it slowly.

"Professor Snape, sir?" she said, her voice tremulous.

"Yes, Tippy." Snape was pinching the bridge of his nose, readying himself for some elfish nonsense.

"When Master Lupin returns, will there be pudding again?" she asked in a whisper. "Tippy is very good at making pudding and has a new recipe for chocolate pudding with chocolate sauce especially for Master Lupin."

"Yes, Tippy," Snape replied gently. "There will undoubtedly be much pudding. And lunch. And probably brunch and supper too. Run along now."

Snape closed his eyes. They felt so dry. There was certainly nothing sweet about life without Lupin. Snape missed him so very much. Lupin's silence scared him.

oooOOOooo

In the small cellar of the house that served as Snape's summer Potions laboratory, Snape had several cauldrons on the go, either bubbling, simmering, steeping or stewing and one – one special one in the corner was in stasis. It was the second batch of the Electio Potion, the first having spoilt when he had tried too many modifications. He had pared those back and was now looking at the prettiest potion he had ever seen: it was lavender but with an opalescent lustre. It smelt of Lily of the Valley, which had surprised him as it was fragrant in a way most conception potions were not.

He liked to look at it. It was an achievement, although only he and Lupin would now know that it was his achievement. Now their plans had changed and Amelie and Jasper had been Obliviated by Dumbledore, Snape's involvement would be as just an anonymous apothecary and Lupin would be the go-between. Snape found he was quite disappointed.

He busied himself with making enormous quantities of the Potions required by Poppy for the infirmary. It's what usually he did in the summer: how he filled his day. Not last summer though. Last summer, he'd been in St. Mungo's for some of it and then with Lupin. He closed his eyes to remember some of those glorious days when he had almost felt free.

When there was no more to do for the day, he changed into Muggle jeans, T shirt and trainers and went for a walk. He didn't particularly like walking in Spinner's End, but he found he couldn't concentrate on reading anyway.

The area of Spinner's End wasn't a salubrious one and Snape a cast a _notice-me-not_ spell so the rougher elements he would undoubtedly come across would not take issue with his presence. It had never been a good area, but before the manufactory closed in the early eighties, there had been full employment of the local men and youths and many of the women. It was no place that a wizard could fit in, but there were no disaffected youths roaming the streets, no drug addicts, no homeless waifs and strays. Nowadays, very few people had jobs, the area had become depressed and almost derelict and at the mercy of drug dealers and the route of prostitutes. Snape didn't care. He just wanted to avoid them all.

oooOOOooo

He walked around the playground: the roundabout, the slide, ah ... their swings. Tufts of grass grew through the eroded concrete of the disused and condemned playground. Of the two swings, that from which Lily had flown was broken and tied up on the frame above. Snape stared at the sacred relic of his childhood – of this one of his most cherished memories. He sat on the remaining swing – his backside still narrow enough to fit the child's swing seat, though his shoulders no longer did. He rocked gently, backwards and forwards recalling their times here that first summer and summers after, back in the days when municipal parks were important and park keepers patrolled them, turfing out tramps, bullies and ne'er-do-wells from the park grounds.

Now, no children were allowed to play without their parents' supervision and protection: too much to be scared of. For Severus Snape, it was his father he needed protection from. He looked at the discarded needles and burnt foil and condoms on the ground around him. How had it come to this that no-one cared for a children's playground because parents were too scared to let their children play? The world made no sense to him. He swung on the swing wondering where Lupin was and was he safe?

oooOOOooo

He Floo called Dumbledore again, but there was still no news. He had barely slept since Lupin had gone to run with the wolves. He was desperately tired, but his mind simply couldn't be calm every time he laid his head down. He paced the house, drank far too much camomile tea. He still couldn't read, because now he couldn't focus.

It was now the seventh night, and finally he managed to drift off to sleep because his body finally failed him.

_He was swirling in green. Turning over and over in deepest forest green. He was deep in undergrowth. He felt the brush of leaves and moss against his skin. He smelt the damp earth and the flora. He heard the scurrying of small creatures. He smelt blood. Coppery on his tongue. He smelt the tang of fear. He tasted it. The taste of Lupin's fear. The taste of Lupin's blood._

Snape bolted out of his bed, bathed in sweat, his breathing harsh and his heart hammering. Lupin was injured. He sent him the dream to rescue him. _How to find him – how?_ He stopped still and breathed deeply and hauled on his trousers and boots, and strapped a wand holster to his arm.

"Tippy!" he shouted. The house-elf appeared, wide-eyed, as he knelt in front of her tucking in his shirt and pulling on his robe, cursing himself for forgetting what should have been obvious. "Are you able to find Master Lupin? Can you Apparate us to him? "

"Yes, of course, he is one of my Masters," she said and took his hand in hers and they Disapparated.

They Apparated, but without the crack of wizard Apparition, softly and quietly. It was as black as pitch under the canopy of trees and smelt exactly as Snape had dreamt. He crouched low with his wand and enjoined Tippy to stand behind him.

_Remus Lupin revelio_

A faint glow appeared just two feet away and Snape crept to it to find Lupin bound to a large oak tree. His hearing accustomed now to the forest sounds, he heard some snoring around him. He asked Tippy in a whisper if she could see them. She told him where each and every person was. The pack was indeed twenty strong.

Lupin had been very badly beaten and was unconscious. Some of the injuries were days old. These weren't injuries caused by his transformations, so they would heal no faster than anyone else's. Snape silently cast _Diffindo_ at his bonds, but before Tippy could creep forward to transport them, one of the pack awoke and starting raising merry hell.

"Hoi! Hoi! You there! John! Malcolm! Octavius! Some bastard's trying to take the turncoat Were! Everyone! Roust yourselves! Get them!" By the time this commotion was finished all the pack had awoken but Snape had Disillusioned himself and was about to do the same to Tippy.

"No Professor Snape. Make Master Lupin invisible. Tippy can do this for herself!" She vanished before his eyes and started firing Repulsion Jinxes at any of the pack that started to cast or move against them with a speed and force that shocked Snape, but for which he was grateful as she sent the pack members flying, one by one as Snape quickly Disillusioned Lupin and cast a Featherweight Charm on him and lifted him over his shoulder as he cast _Protego_ around the three of them and Summoned Lupin's belongings, which came from the bedding of the leader.

"Now Tippy! Spinner's End," Snape commanded in a harsh whisper, and Tippy transported them home.

They Apparated into Snape's sitting room at Spinner's End. Snape removed the Disillusionment Charm from Lupin and himself and carefully laid Lupin on the settee and checked his pulse and his wounds by eye, hand and wand and then gently spelled away Lupin's torn clothes as the little elf stood next to him, wringing her hands.

"Beloved, you are safe," he whispered to the unconscious man. "You are home." He kissed Lupin's forehead lightly then cast a spell to check Lupin had received no head injury worse than it appeared, and all appeared well.

"Tippy. Run a bath for Master Lupin. Add essence of rosemary and hyssop and the lavender bruise oil. Then go to my Potion store in the cellar below. Fetch the Blood Replenishing Potion, Bruise Balm, Pain Relieving Potion, Nerve-Gro and Internal Injury Potion and bandages. The house elf left and Snape cleaned each cut, abrasion and graze with his wand and sealed all the open wounds, making soothing noises as he worked. He repaired two broken ribs and the broken bones in Lupin's hand where he could see from the abrasions that someone had ground their boot on his wand hand. He then fixed the dislocated shoulder and wrist and quickly checked there were no other injuries.

How Tippy had managed to fill the bath in the short time it took Snape to Levitate Lupin to the bathroom, he could not guess, but he gently lowered Lupin in, and threw off his own robe and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and cleansed Lupin of all the caked-on mud and filth, talking gently to him all the time. Tippy returned with all the Potions and stood by Snape to hand him clean sponges and flannels as required. When the water was filthy, Tippy, without bidding, emptied the bath and re-filled it on the instant so Snape could finish cleansing Lupin and then washed his muddied hair gently. He Levitated him out of the bath and Conjured a cushioned sheet to the floor and dried him there, and then applied the balms and salves before giving him the Potions. He Levitated him to his bedroom which, extraordinarily, Tippy had managed to change the bedclothes in the time it took Snape to bring Lupin there and softly deliver him into the clean, cold sheets.

As Snape tucked him in, he realised the elf had said nothing but acted on every command and instinct. He turned to her and whispered, "Well done, Tippy." She smiled weakly at him.

"Will Master Lupin be well soon," she whispered.

"I hope so," Snape said, and in so saying, as Tippy left the room, he felt his strength drain from him, and he slid onto the floor and held his face in his hands, his hands that had the trace of a tremble of fear in them now. He had been so scared, so scared he would lose Lupin. But he'd found him - Tippy had found him.

He heard a faint pop, and Tippy reappeared before him with a mug of tea. Snape realised he needed to enjoin the elf to secrecy. No-one, not even Dumbledore, would remove Lupin from him, not until he was well.

"Tippy. There are people who would hurt Master Lupin," Snape said to her, in the kindliest voice he could muster. The elf's eyes became very wide indeed. "We need to keep his presence here a secret. Do you understand? You must tell no-one, no-one at all that Master Lupin is here." The elf nodded her head.

"Tippy is bound to her magical gentlemen. Professor Snape has ordered Tippy to tell no-one. Tippy shall be silent." She nodded her head resolutely, and Snape felt a small sense of relief and turned to looked at the injured man unconscious in his bed.

"Professor Snape, sir?" Tippy looked around the room appraisingly. "Where will Professor Snape sleep? There is no room."

"I'll manage with a chair, Tippy. I need to watch over Master Lupin until he wakes."

"Tippy could clean the other bedroom, Professor Snape, sir, so both Masters can sleep," Tippy said innocently, looking up into Snape's face.

His parents' bedroom. He had not even entered it when his mother died. It was almost as if he had obliterated it from his mind. He was never allowed in it when he was small, and he never went there, not even now. It was an unhappy room. It was the shut door that was never opened to him, and that now he didn't want to open. He didn't know when he was young what those loathsome noises behind it meant, noises like an animal and the demented squeaking of springs or why his mother begged his father "No! Please don't!" or why she cried. He understood as he got older what they had meant, when he himself had cried out for mercy in the same way in abandoned rooms at school, and had been ignored the same, but by then the hated noises at home had stopped.

How could he put his beloved Lupin in that room that where that filthy Muggle brutalised his mother? He didn't think he could. Then he looked at Lupin, looking large and uncomfortable in his narrow childhood bed. Would he always be haunted by these ghosts? Wasn't this his house now? Shouldn't he make the man he loved comfortable rather than dwelling on the odious past?

"Let's go and look," Snape said quietly, dreading opening that room that had been closed up for so many years.

The door creaked open under his hand and the little elf cast a charm to oil the hinges. It was a just a larger version of neglect of his own room. Threadbare carpet covered the uneven floor. Yellowed nets hung at dirty windows. Heavy curtains hung, heavier with the grime of years past and not quite hanging evenly. There was an old metal bedstead, and old blankets with a quilted counterpane. Two wooden bedside cabinets, one huge 1920s wardrobe and a dressing table with a three paned mirror. Everything was smothered in dust and cobwebs and the air was stultified. The little elf peeked around Snape's legs.

"Tippy can clean it by tomorrow, Professor Snape. Like a shining pin. A nice clean room for Master Lupin to recover in." He looked down into her earnest brown eyes, pleading with him to do what she did best.

Snape walked to the bed and was going to open the bedside cabinet, but then he realised that he didn't want to know who had slept on which side of the bed in this room. He wanted no history here. He found his chest was constricted and his breathing shallow thinking of it.

"Throw out every item of clothing you find, Tippy. Burn all the bedding and destroy the bed. Clean the rest of the furniture, and put anything else in a box, and I'll sort through it when Master Lupin is better. I will purchase a new bed and bedding tomorrow."

"Very good, Professor Snape." She popped away and Snape went back to his own room and sat on his old stool by the bed. He took Lupin's hand in both his hands and laid his head on them, shutting his eyes tightly, thanking Merlin for Lupin's safety.

He sat his vigil by Lupin's side. Tippy brought him drinks and his breakfast and then later, his dinner. She spelled Potions and liquidised foods into Lupin as instructed by Snape. He only left his vigil to visit the bathroom and make Floo calls to Dumbledore to enquire if he had heard of Lupin's whereabouts keeping up the pretence of not knowing for now, and then to a wizarding furniture store. The purchases having been made by Floo call, a delivery boy brought the shrunken items in one package through the Floo and departed, and the wards were re-set. Tippy took charge of the packages and Snape returned to Lupin's side, holding Lupin's hand to his face, meditating by his side.

As dawn came, Tippy presented herself to Snape to tell him the room was ready.

Snape gently placed Lupin's hand by his side, and followed Tippy to the front bedroom and stood in the doorway, stunned. It certainly was as clean as a shining pin. The walls and woodwork had been scrubbed and then painted. The threadbare carpet now had colours visible, the nets were white, the windows gleamed, the curtains were the original green colour. The wooden furniture looked reinvigorated, and the new bed, a outsize modern divan, was installed facing the windows, with the new bed clothes on it. The air in the room was fresh and clean.

"Well done, Tippy," Snape croaked, a lump in his throat obstructing his voice. "Turn the bed down and we'll move Master Lupin so he'll be more comfortable."

* * *

When Lupin awoke, he looked wan and tired. Snape didn't know if he was imagining it, but he was sure that there was more grey in Lupin's hair than before. Could that be? Just three months ago, Snape had congratulated himself on how well Lupin was looking and now it all seemed to have reversed. It upset him.

Lupin was weak at first, and Tippy flapped and fussed and busied herself making all manner of soups and sweet drinks to tempt Lupin to eat. Of course, he didn't need much temptation, just a little help, which Snape gladly gave.

"Do you want to teach me that feeding spell for invalids?" Snape smirked as he helped Lupin with some vegetable soup.

They only talked briefly before Lupin slept again. Lupin had wanted to know how Snape had found him, He had not purposely sent the dream but had subconsciously managed to send the message to Snape through his dreams. He was very impressed that Tippy had found him with pinpoint accuracy.

"—But then I'm not an authority of house-elves. They don't tend to be bound to poor half-blood families like the Lupins," Lupin said softly.

"How does one reward a house-elf without unwittingly dismissing her and driving her to despair?" Snape asked, thinking of the poor wretch, Winky.

"It's about recognition and self-worth. I have an idea, Severus. Leave it to me," Lupin smiled.

Lupin was sleeping again now, and Snape knew he was over the worst. He left him to do some brewing. He would have liked to have said his heart was lighter, but the thought of Lupin going under cover again was disturbing him. Dumbledore asked too much, just too much.

oooOOOooo

Later that day, Snape called for Tippy and announced to her enthusiastic face and, yes, Master Lupin would very much like a cooked dinner.

"Would Master Lupin like pudding too? Chocolate pudding with chocolate sauce?" Tippy asked, rapturously, clasping her hands together in hope.

"Yes, Tippy," Snape said confidently, "I believe Master Lupin would very much like pudding."

Much as he didn't want to, now Lupin was recovering so well, Snape Floo-called Dumbledore to let him know that Lupin was now with him. Dumbledore questioned the wisdom of it. Snape walked away from the call. He wanted to be disgusted, but he knew that Dumbledore was right. There was no Fidelius Charm on this house. The Dark Lord and all the Death Eaters knew of this place. Its only saving grace was that most Death Eaters despised his family home. There was an element of safety to their disdain.

As they ate, Lupin told Snape of how he had found the pack and asked to join, just as he had done so many times in the first wizarding war. Back then, he had never had problems joining a pack – as long as he didn't challenge the alpha in any way – it would normally accept another runner. This time had been different, very different.

"I looked down at heel. No change there then," he nudged Snape and gave him a small smile. "I met some of the peripheral betas and they were fine, perfectly welcoming. The first night went well. I slept on the periphery with the others. The next day, they took me to meet the alpha. The game was up straight away ..."

"But how ...?" Snape interjected.

"It was the smell of long-term Wolfsbane usage on me: the mark of a wizarding collaborator. When I ran with the wolves in the last war, there had been no Wolfsbane. We had not factored this into the planning. I was set upon straight away. I never even had the opportunity to speak to him. Greyback had beaten me to it. Promised them legitimate wands, repeal of anti-werewolf legislation, to be given free rein at the full moon ..."

"Nonsense, the Dark Lord would never keep those promises ..."

"We know that, but, well, it's difficult to convince the packs that the status quo is better for them than Voldemort when the status quo is stacked against them. If I'm going to have a hope to convincing other packs, I have to decide whether I am prepared to go back to transformations without Wolfbane." Lupin's voice faded and his eyes were glassy with distress. "I won't run free at the full moon without Wolfsbane though. No-one can ask that of me."

* * *

Snape didn't want to undertake the task he'd set himself, but Lupin was sleeping, and well on the mend. So, he had promised himself that whilst Lupin slept, he would go through the box of things Tippy had taken out of his parents' bedroom. There wasn't a huge amount. His mother's old school trunk was in the loft, and all the books that had been worth keeping were already on the bookshelves in the sitting room.

His father's bifocal glasses; oddments of meaningless paper and receipts, pins, nails, a paperclip, buttons, a note pad, string, nail clippers, a rancid bottle of after shave, and a chewed pencil. He picked up the glasses and turned them over in his hand. Why hadn't his mother thrown them out after he died? Why would she keep them? A pill case; his mother's reading glasses; a compact mirror; safety pins, all sorts of ribbons, a small jar of vanishing cream (that didn't vanish anything – how odd Muggles were – he wondered why his mother had it). A small album. A Muggle photograph album. He had never seen it before. He suddenly realised his was holding his breath as he opened it.

His parents' wedding day. His father, young, handsome in a rough way. Rugged, he supposed. His mother, not pretty, but striking with his own colouring. Palest skin and black limp hair, darkest eyes. No, not pretty, too slim – except for that bump. Snape's mouth thinned. He hadn't known. But they looked happy enough. He didn't remember ever seeing either of them smile so broadly. He stared at the photo for a long time: this happy, striking couple. They were people he didn't know at all. He turned the page.

He snorted. Baby Severus. Oh dear. He was surprised he should have so many rolls of fat. He was lying on a settee, a new version of the one in the sitting room. He would guess he was about six months old, in knitted clothes, his black eyes huge and wide, not much hair, his little fists curled and his countenance really too severe for a baby. He turned the page.

He would be about one, he thought. He was sitting upright, his back to the camera, his head turned to the side, called by the photographer. Large black eyes looked through long lashes, his dark hair mopping on his head now. There was the faint trace of a crooked smile on his chubby face. He turned the page.

He would guess at three or four. Much slimmer now, in shorts and an odd little shirt, his hair longer, knobbly knees. No smile at all, he noticed. His mother was squatting next to him, her long fingers around his small chest. No longer striking. Just plain and thinner and worn. _Worn down so soon_. He looked at her face, into her eyes for a long time, almost trying to discern what she was thinking. He turned the page.

His seventh birthday. The memory crashed over him like a tidal wave, knocking the air out of his lungs.

_He was crouched in the corner of the sitting room, as his father rained down blows on his mother's small frame. He had covered his head with his arms and tried to stifle his cries and tears. The last time he had cried out to protect his mother, his father had punched him so hard, he had lost consciousness. His mother told him never to try to protect her again because it made his father more angry and he would hurt her more. He couldn't help. He mustn't try. This time, he tried to hide, but his father heard his stifled cries._

" _Shut up, you shitty little pansy. Stop blubbing like a girl!" the foul man had growled through his clenched, nicotine stained teeth at him as he'd grabbed his small arm in his gnarled beefy hand and yanked him to his feet, dislocating his shoulder before he backhanded his ham-like fist across his face. Unconscious once more. It was his seventh birthday, but he didn't cry in front of his father again._

Snape hitched a ragged breath at the memory that pierced his heart and made his chest swell in pain.

He flinched as he heard "Severus?" Lupin was at the door of the room, watching him, wrapped in Snape's own bath robe. Snape put the album down.

"Old memories," he croaked. "I'm afraid not very happy ones." His eyes darted to the window so Lupin wouldn't see his distress. Lupin moved into the room and wrapped his arms around Snape's waist.

"So, this is your room," he said, gently squeezing Snape's waist. "Where you and your friends used to hang out."

"No friends ever visited me at home, Remus. Not with my father," Snape said softly.

"No-one at all?" Lupin said quietly, and leant his head against Snape's.

"No-one." There had only been Lily, but he never could have let her here in this house with his despised father. It used to worry her when she was young that he never invited her to his home, but she understood as she got older. "I used to stay out of the house as much as possible." Snape placed his hands on Lupin's and looked out of the window again, over the hundreds of identical rooftops to the large manufactory stack in the distance.

"When I was young," he said, "all the men of this end of town worked in that factory. That stack would belch out acrid black smoke all day. The working men died from it, including my father. It wasn't a quick death. He suffered. I didn't visit and I didn't say goodbye. I'm not sorry." Snape's voice was flat. There was so much hatred in his heart for his father even now that it felt physical. Hatred for every blow, physical and mental, that Snape saw as the inauguration of his downward decline into the service of the Dark Lord. When had that chubby child stopped smiling? His chest heaved painfully.

Lupin kissed Snape's neck gently. Snape's head leant to one side to receive the kiss - so welcome. "Yes," Snape whispered. "More." As he kissed, Lupin unbuttoned the collar of Snape's summer robe to the waist and pulled the open garment off one shoulder.

"Hmmmm. No shirt ..." Lupin whispered. He sucked at the expanse of shoulder, as Snape sighed.

"I wear my robe wizard style at home," Snape rasped, his eyes closed at the feel of Lupin's mouth on his neck. It was Lupin's turn to moan as his hands swiftly undid the rest of the robe's button so it was open and his hands roved over Snape's naked body underneath. "Merlin, I like that ..." Lupin muttered as his hands grasped Snape's inner thighs and stroked upwards.

Snape reached his arms back to hold Lupin's hair as Lupin pushed his hands up from Snape's waist to his chest and Snape moaned loudly as he felt his groin ignite with fire.

"Merlin yes! Do it now – right here," he moaned. Here in this house where his father had kicked him and beaten him and called him queer and pansy because he wouldn't have his hair cut in a straight back and sides, because his mother said the proper clothes for a wizard were always robes, never mind whether he was queer or not.

_Well, yes, father, I am as queer as fuck, and this man – this beautiful man is my husband – and a werewolf. It was poetic really._

Would his father even make sense of the reality of a werewolf – not Lon Chaney Jnr., but a real, honest-to-goodness werewolf? His mind was racing with these random thoughts, but his body was desperate as Lupin's hands roved across his chest and stomach and down to his genitals. _Ye gods, it felt good and perfect and - sheer_ , as he leant back into Lupin's chest, moaning loudly, as Lupin sucked and bit on his neck as he pulled the robe off Snape's shoulders and abraded his chest on the bites that made Snape shiver and stiffen further before he smoothed his hands down Snape's body pressing Snape gently to kneel on the floor where Lupin divested himself of Snape's bath robe.

Snape leant on his hands. He knew Lupin understood now, how he needed this. He was ready and desperate; yearning for Lupin to fuck him. He felt Lupin's fingers inside him. He moaned loudly at the feel of them as they worked against his prostate making him cry out and he writhed on them and luxuriated in the feeling. He panted and begged Lupin to fuck him as his body and mind ached for the raw physical rapture, and his mind yearned for the fulfilment only Lupin could bring to his senses. Lupin thrust into him and he almost wanted to scream in his own pleasure as Lupin thrust over and over, harshly, noisily and deeply. Snape's throat was obstructed with his deepest desire and the waves of raw pleasure that crashed over him.

One small part of his mind hoped his father was spinning in his grave. It may have been a small vengeance to be fucked by his werewolf husband in this hated house of his abomination of a father, but it was his own vengeance and even as that thought crossed his mind, he knew that this act was more pure than anything he had known before in this house – here in this house of nothingness, of blighted years, of tears and pain - Lupin would bring him rapture and bliss like an exorcism, and Lupin did until Snape roared with his own desperate orgasm.

But Lupin had not come. He slowly brought his thrusting to a halt and then gently manoeuvred Snape to the bed and onto his back and lowered himself onto Snape's panting, sweating body and kissed him.

"Severus," Lupin breathed gently into his mouth, and re-entered him with tenderness. "I love you," he murmured as he moved into him. "Never forget how much I love you," and he kissed Snape's lips lightly and drew a thumb across a single tear Snape had not known that he had shed. Lupin stroked Snape's hair and his face, as he gently made love to his husband, almost crooning his love to Snape's shocked face, locking his eyes to his own as he held his arms firmly, kissing him still. Snape's frenzy calmed by degrees as his husband loved him, his hips rolling into him and his cock burning him beautifully now in rekindled desire, transported in his eyes and his mesmeric, murmuring voice as he felt his own cock harden again and he splayed himself open for this man, bonelessly relaxing into this single bed as his husband lifted himself onto his hands, still locking eyes with Snape, rolling more firmly now. Snape wrapped his legs high around Lupin's waist and placed his own arms above his head to hold onto the old metal bedstead, anchoring himself for Lupin's deep and searching thrusts.

"Tell me you love me, Severus," Lupin murmured.

"I love you, Remus," Snape whispered, his voice hoarse and cracked, entranced by Lupin's rhythmical movements and the controlled pleasure that lapped at his consciousness as Lupin pushed himself deeply into Snape, thrilling his very core.

"Forget all the rest now, Severus. It's about us now. We have each other," Lupin murmured, and they moved against each other tenderly and lovingly, eventually increasing in passion and intensity until their bodies could bear no more and they came together, each other's names on their lips, incoherent with passion and bursting with invincible love.

* * *

"What is that on your head Tippy?" Snape asked in astonishment.

"Master Lupin said that a bow is an adornment befitting the house-elf who has rendered exemplary service to her powerful master wizards," she said, as if reciting what she had been told. "It is definitely not a clo."

"A clo?" Snape repeated, tilting his head at the elf, wondering if his ears had deceived him.

"Professor Snape is teasing Tippy. Tippy knows if you have one bit of clothing, it is a clo," she nodded her head emphatically. Snape stared incredulously as the green satin bow perched on the ugly, bald but undoubtedly proud head left for the kitchen to finish preparing their breakfast.

Snape turned to look enquiringly at Lupin, but he steadfastly avoided his gaze, the corners of his mouth twitching almost uncontrollably. Then the suppressed smile genuinely faded away.

"Have you read this Severus?" Lupin said, folding and passing _The Daily Prophet_ to Snape, stabbing his index finger at the offending article headlined, _No Confidence in Dumbledore International Confederation Decides._

Snape read and re-read the article, too stunned for words. How could Fudge be so unutterably stupid? He shook his head. "That's not the first," Snape said. Lupin's eyes widened. "He was demoted from Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot last week and Fudge is muttering about trying to dishonour his Order of Merlin."

"I don't understand how Fudge could have managed all this against Albus so quickly," Lupin said wearily. "We'll be fighting with our hands tied behind our back this way."

The fire flared green. It was Dumbledore, unusual in itself in the morning.

"Good morning boys." They both acknowledged him. "I'll get to business immediately, if I may. We need to convene a meeting of the Order today. Harry Potter and his cousin have been attacked by Dementors and the Ministry has tried to expel him from Hogwarts ..."

* * *


	51. A Day of a Spy

"Lupin. A word," Snape sneered as he entered the kitchen in Gimmauld Place.

Lupin, at his most mild mannered, moved away from Black, Tonks and Shacklebolt without complaint, although his companions each scowled their disapproval at Snape's rudeness.

Snape took the opportunity to deliver the Electio Potion at the same time as Lupin's Wolfsbane. They had arranged this charade between themselves before Lupin left Spinner's End after breakfast to return to Grimmauld Place. Snape had delivered the instructions anonymously directly to Amelie and Jasper by owl when he had finished the final filtration process, with the advice that Lupin would deliver it to them. It was not date-sensitive, so they could use it according to their own timetable but it must be taken by the mother at the coupling of conception. He pressed two phials of the strangely iridescent lavender potion into Lupin's hand in front of the large goblet containing the Wolfsbane.

"Remember to drink it straight away, Lupin," he said as his lip curled. "We don't want you loping around London, creating your own _particular_ brand of mayhem."

Tonks scowled at Snape and Black launched into a tirade of invective against Snape's lineage as florid as any used by Walburga Black, as Lupin caught Snape's eyes.

_I've arranged to see them at the weekend, Severus. Thank you so much. They'll be delighted._

_There's enough for two but I've explained it in my note to them._

_It will mean the world to them._

Snape heard the earnestness and warmth in Lupin's mind voice and it warmed his heart as he recalled the phial of lavender potion he had secreted in his own stores, far at the back, out of the way, because … well … because maybe … one day … the Dark Lord might be defeated … and …because …

He only had to look at Lupin to know how much he loved him; how completely loved he had felt that day in his small bed – how Lupin just might bring him out of that dark tomb of hatred for his childhood he had floundered in for so long. If Lupin could do that – well, that was his "because".

He broke the connection to tell himself he was a fool to even consider _thinking about_ it, but the warm rock of his adoration of Lupin settled prettily in his stomach and he concentrated on that feeling, rather than the condemnation of Snape's soul issuing from Black's mouth until all the members of the Order including Dumbledore finally arrived and Molly presented every member of the Order assembled with their choice of drink.

It was, of course, with a sense of outrage coupled with amazement that the meeting convened to discuss the Dementor attack on Potter and his cousin. Arabella Figg reported. Dumbledore turned to Mundungus Fletcher to await his excuses. Snape was sure he wasn't the only person around that table who was grateful not to be in Fletcher's shoes as cerulean blue eyes bored into his soul over half moon glasses, and clearly found it wanting.

Dumbledore outlined the expulsion attempt by the Ministry, then the steps he had had to take to suspend that decision pending a hearing. Although Snape did not voice the thought, he wondered (and certainly not for the first time) if his own vow would be easier to keep if the boy did not attend school at all. It must surely curtail Potter's frequent, enthusiastic and successful forays into mortal danger. But now, if the blood wards were compromised, perhaps Snape had to re-assess his own enthusiastic attempts to see the boy expelled. Perhaps, _perish the thought_ , the boy should be under Snape's own watchful eye at Hogwarts.

The boy was to be brought to Grimmauld Place. Clearly, he was no longer safe in Little Whinging. Snape could not help but wonder at it. The blood wards were supposed to protect Potter from attack by the Dark Lord or his minions. Add to that, it seemed to Snape dubious at best that the Dark Lord would jeopardise the secrecy he was so set upon by sending Dementors to attack Potter. He did voice both of these views, but neither of these opinions met with even due consideration from the Order. _Because who else would do such a thing?_ was the loudly-trumpeted consensus. Snape considered that was rather missing the salient points he had tried to make, but Black was determined to shout him down.

"I think we should hear Severus out," Lupin said quietly.

"Why?" Black shouted derisively, waving a dismissive hand at Snape, "He's bound to try to lay the blame elsewhere other than at the filthy feet of his Dark Lord and master, isn't he?" Various others murmured their agreement with him and Black sat back with a smug smirk on his face.

"If you would think with your head, rather than your heart, Black," Snape snapped, "you would perhaps divine that something else is at work, rather than just cutting me dead."

"Ha! Well we know cutting is your _speciality_ if I recall!" Black spat, never missing an opportunity to remind Snape on whom he had first tested his bespoke Dark curse. Snape was livid and fairly sure he had a reminder of his own that would shock Black after all these years.

"Indeed, and I'm surprised you don't cherish the reminder of it I gave you so many years ago," Snape whispered dangerously, and with that, he made a delicate slashing gesture with one long hand to Black's clavicle and then turned away.

"Severus!" Dumbledore said firmly. Snape rolled his eyes. Far be it for Dumbledore to have stopped this conversation when it was Black who spoke out of turn!

Black's eyes widened as his hand whipped to his clavicle and Snape heard him whisper furiously to Lupin, "Do you remember that fight with Death Eaters behind the silver vaults in Chancery Lane? James was there. It was him! Bloody Snivellus sent that cutting curse at me! I should've known ..." Black had pulled his perfectly ridiculous ruffled shirt to one side to reveal a large deep scar running the length of his clavicle. "I didn't think it would ever stop bleeding. Albus had to heal it, do you remember? How the hell are we supposed to trust him?" Black was looking earnestly at Lupin, pointing accusingly at Snape, whilst the rest of table watched in silence, yet again.

Snape did not to look at Lupin. He did not want to see how disappointed Lupin would be that Snape had risen to the bait – again.

"If you two boys have finished pissing up the door frame," Moody growled.

"Aptly put," Dumbledore said quietly so only Snape would hear and he felt a sharp flush at his neck at his own quick temper. Why did he give Black the satisfaction? _Why?_ The answer was simple enough and was sitting next to Black and not at Snape's side, where he should be.

"We should get on with our business," continued Moody then stood to introduce the plans for the advanced guard for Potter.

As he did so, the Dark Mark burned. Snape inhaled sharply through gritted teeth, grasping his forearm, his eyes snapped to Lupin ( _No!_ ) then to Dumbledore instantly, who nodded almost imperceptibly. Without taking further leave, Snape swept out of the house and Disapparated on the front step to Spinner's End for his robes and mask and then on to the Dark Mark.

He Apparated and looked around quickly to try to assess his location. He believed he was in the same dusty, disused manor house as before but now they were in its great hall. He was not the first to arrive, nor was he the last. The Dark Lord stood in the centre of the circle they formed around him watching intently as each of his suppliants arrived. The unlucky late comer today was Yaxley and he was felled by the Cruciatus Curse as soon as all had greeted their master. The Dark Lord didn't want apologies, and Yaxley knew this once the curse and the screaming stopped, and as quietly as he could as he gasped for breath, gathered himself to his knees until the Dark Lord said he could stand once more.

"My followers ..." the Dark Lord announced. "Report to me your news. How have your efforts progressed?"

"My Lord," Snape said, "I come directly from a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix ... "

"Yes?" the Dark Lord said impatiently.

"The attack by Dementors on Potter was unsuccessful as he is able to produce the Patronus Charm to repel them. He is to be collected by members of the Order and delivered to its headquarters ..."

"Tell me when and where." The Dark Lord demanded, advancing on Snape.

"My Lord, your summons came as the Auror Moody started to outline his plans. I did not stay to hear. As for headquarters, I am unable to say ..." Snape said, immediately mentally rebuking himself for not mentioning the Fidelius at the outset and bracing himself now, knowing the curse would come.

"Severus ..." the Dark Lord hissed warningly.

"My Lord ... I cannot ..." Snape fell to his knees reflexively: it would be less distance to fall.

_CRUCIO!_

His nerves flamed on the instant and he keeled to the floor, screaming. The Dark Lord lifted the curse and spun around as if to cast it again in his fury -

"The Fidelius ... my Lord ... I cannot ... I beg you ..." Snape managed to rasp out, as he tried to crawl to his knees from where he had fallen in agony, one clawed hand outstretched for mercy.

The Dark Lord gritted his teeth and hissed with annoyance at Snape, wanting the information, but knowing it simply could not be extracted by any means. He paced furiously and sent a burning hex to the outstretched hand instead.

"Get up!"

Snape staggered to his feet, trying not to sway. It took all his force of will as his nerves convulsed and his hand throbbed.

"There is nothing to be done about the Fidelius. But, next time, if you are in an Order meeting when I summon you, you must remain so I have the full report. I will, of course, be understanding of your lateness, Severus."

"My Lord, yes," Snape whispered, but he knew it was a lie. There was never leniency for lateness. There was always torture.

"Who ordered the Dementors to attack Harry Potter?" the Dark Lord demanded, looking around at his Death Eaters. The question visibly shocked the assembled company. All had assumed it had been the Dark Lord himself. The Dementors were his natural allies; they did his bidding without compulsion. Murmurs of ignorance circulated as the Dark Lord paced the circle, his red stare boring into his followers. Snape fell back to the circle and pursed his lips: it was as he had suspected. _Who then?_

"Make enquiries. Yaxley, Lucius – enquire at the Ministry – strenuously, if required – the Dementors are supposedly under its control. I want to know." The two men bowed quickly and murmured their acknowledgement. Snape needed to pursue his own report. This part had been specifically agreed with Dumbledore to be reported. Dumbledore was taking a calculated risk by forcing the issue, but he needed to see where loyalties lay on the Wizengamot. Snape would have to take the risk of rekindling the Dark Lord's ire by speaking again.

"My Lord ...?" Snape ventured. The Dark Lord's head snapped back to Snape, his red eyes aglow, his body following slowly.

"The Ministry sought to expel Potter from Hogwarts – Fudge no doubt is behind that. The old man has intervened to suspend that expulsion. Potter has a hearing for contravention of the laws on the reasonable restriction of underage magic on the twelfth of this month ... it occurs to me that this may be ... an opportunity ..." Snape spoke slowly and deliberately as if deep in thought so that the Dark Lord would reach the conclusions Snape hoped for, as if of his own volition.

"Yes ... yes ... I see, Severus. Fudge is turning out to be quite the ally in his desire to be ignorant of my return ..." A cold smile cleaved his face. "Lucius ... speak to Fudge ... impress upon him the inherent ... ah ... instability ... unreliability ... of Harry Potter ... the need to protect the wizarding world ... indeed its children at our respected school ... from Harry Potter's unstable influence ... use your undoubted talents to persuade our dear ignorant Minister that the usual lax rules should not apply – a full trial should do the trick, and discredit Potter once and for all. After all, what defence can the boy use? Dementors? In Little Whinging?" The Dark Lord laughed his eerie, high pitched laugh. "Such an inventive excuse, surely ... See to it, Lucius."

"My Lord," Malfoy nodded.

"If the boy is expelled from Hogwarts, he will no longer be under the protection of the old man. Even better. Well done, Severus." Snape breathed a little easier. The Dark Lord turned to Malfoy once more. "Is the half-breed ready to report to us?"

"My Lord, yes," Malfoy bowed and strode to the double doors of the hall, and was followed back in by Greyback.

"My Lord," the werewolf growled. The Dark Lord's nose wrinkled at the smell of the werewolf, the coppery tang of blood and the sickly smell of old sweat and sex. It was pungent and overpowering. The Dark Lord had allowed the beast Death Eater robes, but not the Dark Mark itself. Greyback was an exquisite weapon for the Dark Lord, but a dirty Dark creature nonetheless that the Dark Lord would not countenance marking it with his blood brand.

"How goes it, Greyback?" the Dark Lord enquired silkily, with an expansive gesture of his wand.

"I have been to two packs since we met: one in the fens of Norfolk and one in the New Forest. The fen pack has no interest in affiliation either way. Your Lordship may wish to consider allowing me and mine to teach them a lesson." Greyback voice was rough and deep and he bared his incisors in a grimace of a smile that made Snape shudder. Those teeth would match exactly that savage Turning bite on Lupin's body. He had known it for a long time, but seeing the teeth bared and looking at and smelling the beast responsible for Turning Lupin made Snape's gorge rise. One day, maybe he would have some time alone with Mr Greyback and a certain cutting curse. The thought, deep in his Occluded mind, pleased him.

"The New Forest pack of Octavius has pledged to your cause. They informed me that they had caught a Ministry spy trying to join their pack, but he was rescued before I could pick him up." Snape's mind raced. How many days – or hours even – would it have been before Lupin had been delivered to Greyback and his own violent destruction had he not found him through Tippy? He struggled to stop his stomach lurching and tried to think proactively. He had to tell Lupin that Greyback was being alerted to spies and had to find a way to know which packs Greyback was visiting and when so he could forewarn Lupin, or he could walk into a trap at any time.

"There are no werewolves employed by the Ministry," Yaxley interrupted.

"Then it must be an Order spy," Malfoy enjoined. "Severus?" Snape's stomached roiled. He was about to speak, when another spoke.

"Remus. Remus Lupin," squealed Peter Pettigrew, on the periphery of the gilded circle, just like Greyback. "He scouted the werewolf packs during the first wizarding war." He then ducked his head, and backed quickly away.

Snape wanted to kill Pettigrew on the spot, and thanked Merlin for the mask he wore.

"Is that correct, Severus?" the Dark Lord turned to him.

"I believe so, my Lord," Snape said, doing his best to keep his voice even. "He is rarely at Order meetings."

"Lupin ... Lupin ..." the Dark Lord mused. "Why do I recall the name, Severus? Something to do with you ...?" Snape's blood froze as he struggled to think of an answer. "Ah yes ..." Snape couldn't breathe. "I remember now," the Dark Lord had a rictus smile on his face. "The blood traitors tried to feed you to their pet werewolf. That was Remus Lupin, wasn't it? I recall the story now."

Greyback laughed gruffly, and Snape heard Pettigrew squeak. There was nervous laughter around the room. Years ago, Snape would have felt the heat of humiliation at the laughter; now he felt just blessed relief that the Dark Lord had remembered his tale of woe from so long ago. The smile fell from the Dark Lord's face suddenly, and the laughter around the room ceased with it.

"I'm surprised you have not sought him out to teach him a long-overdue lesson, Severus," the Dark Lord hissed. Severus seized to opportunity to dissemble – all he had to do was recall his own true thoughts only three years ago.

"I had some small measure of retribution, my Lord, when the old man saw fit to employ it as the Defence against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts but I revealed its secret to the world, and destroyed its tissue of lies that it was a respectable teacher. It can't inveigle its way into the wizarding community any longer." Snape hoped his voice sounded convincingly smug, even though he felt sick to the pit of his stomach. "However, it remains a dear wish for a more personal revenge of my own making, but the beast is also under the old man's protection, my Lord," Snape bowed.

"I see. How very galling," the Dark Lord commiserated.

"I am a patient man, my Lord," Snape said coolly.

"That you are, Severus, that you are. It is a trait of yours that I admire."

"If I may, my Lord," Snape ventured, his mind still working on how to get the information he needed. "Might I propose that one of your followers keeps records of the approaches that are being made to all the different enclaves, packs and covens, as they are planned, so we can ensure we keep track of progress if something should happen to any of your followers or affiliates? Of course, it should not be me, given my close proximity to the old man's prying ways." Snape took a small step backwards as he bowed.

"Yes, that would be prudent. Greyback is approaching the werewolves. Yaxley's contact in France is trying to contact the Giants, and I would like lists kept of those wizards I deem worthy of personal approaches, or punishment, as the case may be. We may as well make this orderly. I will give it some thought." The Dark Lord swung to the large Death Eater to Snape's left. "Thorfinn, what news have you?"

"I have been in contact with several influential vampires. It is difficult to get them interested when they take blood from whoever they please, but we have had a few notable pledges: Sanguini, de la Page, and Bodmin. Bodmin has his own followers who are also keen for the cause," Rowle reported.

"See if a reminder of the power of a stake wielded by every Death Eater that crosses their paths has a persuasive effect on those who remain recalcitrant," the Dark Lord said, silkily. "From my time in the Forbidden Forest a couple of years ago, I know that the Centaurs will not be drawn into mortal man's battles, no matter how hard Dumbledore tries to convince them. I must accept that these creatures will not be mine to command; but neither will they be his." The Dark Lord spun around to face Malfoy.

"Lucius, Gibbon. Your news. Have you disposed of those Mudbloods who have been actively supporting Potter at the Ministry?"

"I have brought the Baxter Mudbloods for your enjoyment, my Lord," Malfoy smiled glacially and indicated a couple huddled in a dark corner, in full body binds. "Their spawn I have promised to Greyback for the full moon to augment his numbers. The children currently reside in my dungeon, may it please my Lord." The Dark Lord nodded his approval.

"How old?" Greyback's eyes flashed.

"The youngest son is five, and the youngest daughter is seven," Malfoy drawled, with little interest.

"A good age to Turn them. They take training well," Greyback growled.

"Were there not older children?" the Dark Lord enquired.

"There are: a boy of fourteen and a girl of twelve, my Lord. They are also currently resident in my dungeons. I was hoping to ask for ..."

"Of course you were, Lucius. You always do," the Dark Lord sounded impatient. "Take them, if you wish, provided you dispose of them afterwards. I want no spawn of Mudbloods surviving." The Dark Lord glided away. "Now. Kill the Mudbloods as you see fit," the Dark Lord said, his tone bored as he pointed to the parents.

Malfoy sidled up to Snape. "Why don't you return to the Manor with me after we finish here, Severus? Let bygones be bygones, hm?" Malfoy purred.

"You know it is not my pastime," Snape clipped, trying to appear unconcerned with the children's fate.

"You really are too monastic, y'know Severus," Malfoy's mouth twitched. "Come. Join me. I'll give you your choice. Which would you prefer? The filly is rather lovely and untouched," Malfoy chuckled lewdly, "but the buck is really quite beautiful in his innocence." Malfoy inclined his head to Snape, his expression oddly coy. "He rather reminds me of you when ..." Snape turned to glare at Malfoy who smirked and left the sentence unfinished with a low chuckle. Snape's stomach knotted in anger, but he kept his impassive silence. "I'm rather torn between the two," Malfoy said flippantly then turned to Snape and pressed himself up against him, purring in his ear, "We could share them ... and then maybe each other ..."

"I think not, Lucius," Snape sneered with one brow raised disdainfully at the silver haired man, and moved away. He heard the Dark Lord snort in amusement and Snape cast his eyes to the floor and he knew Malfoy had done the same.

"As you were, Lucius," the Dark Lord said dismissively, and waved one unnaturally long hand at Lucius who went to join the other Death Eaters taunting the couple in the corner, and then tilted his head towards Snape. "Yes, I recall you were always rather disdainful of that type of ... ah ... entertainment. It shows maturity, Severus. It keeps one's magic pure. Unmask and walk with me." The Dark Lord placed one hand near, but not quite touching, Snape's shoulder and steered him away from the spectacle unfolding in the great hall of the other Death Eaters and the Baxters.

Snape wished he could block his ears to the pleas and screams of the captives behind them. He could not save them, but he might be able to assist the children. There had been a time when Snape would have participated gladly in the torture and the killing, but he had kept himself away from the sexual assaults and rapes. He did not deny that he had tried to join in when he was young. He thought it would be easy. It had seemed easy to those who had forced themselves on him, after all. It had been expected of him, but it felt so dirty – he couldn't do it. Even his failed attempts gave him such tormented nightmares. He could never justify it to himself. The other Death Eaters had always inferred he was impotent from his refusal to participate and jeered at him, even when Lucius would protest he knew otherwise. _Well, let them think it._

"Let us talk, Severus. That type of ... base distraction may be necessary to keep up the spirits of ordinary wizards, but there are those of us who are pure of purpose – those of us ... you and I ... Severus, who understand ... truly ... _having strived for it_ ... what purity means." He was watching the effect of his carefully selected words and bestowed upon Snape one of his cold, cursory smiles. "Come, Severus, we need to plan ..."

Of course, Snape knew (because Dumbledore had told him) that the Dark Lord was a half-blood of a base Muggle father, just like Snape. He would never tell the Dark Lord of his knowledge, but he often noted how the Dark Lord despised, with venom, that which he purported to venerate. Snape saw with clarity that the punishment he meted to those of the purest blood could go beyond his usual torture for the most trivial of perceived slights. He also saw the begrudging respect the Dark Lord gave to Dumbledore, but he would never openly acknowledge the older wizard's half-blood status and admit such magical power could reside, as it did in himself, in "tainted blood".

And as he walked side by side with the Dark Lord, he reflected how, when he first took the Dark Mark as a fervent acolyte of the Dark Lord and of blood purity, struggling against his stained heritage, this confidence of his master, the smarting of the burns and the tremors of the Cruciatus notwithstanding, would have left him speechless with gratitude. Now, because he found rape evil and torture beyond him and did not wish to besmirch his vows to Lupin, this apparent disdain had been misinterpreted by the Dark Lord as purity of purpose. It amused Snape darkly but he recognised the opportunity to cement this position. It was all to play for now. Malfoy's rapacious and incontinent sexual appetites had cost him the confidence of the Dark Lord. Malfoy would split himself with envy when he realised his mistake.

Snape allowed himself a small inward smile of achievement. Whoever the Dark Lord chose to be the list keeper would not resist Snape's Legilimency and he would have the information he needed on the wizard targets for Dumbledore but, more importantly, on the werewolves so he could forewarn Lupin.

* * *

Snape Apparated straight through his own wards into his sitting room to find himself swept into Lupin's arms.

"Remus!" he rasped, winded by the sudden and forceful embrace. "You shouldn't be here! What if one of the Death Eaters had come back with me, or followed me?" Snape cried, horrified.

"Have they ever before?" Lupin said, his concentration on his hands as he ran them over Snape's body for injuries, stopping at the hiss of pain when he found Snape's burnt hand, and then grabbed Snape's shoulders. "Where's your Cruciatus Potion and Burn Salve?"

"No, none has, but that's not the point!" Snape snapped as he wordlessly Summoned the Potion and Salve. "If they had ..." Lupin clearly was not listening.

"He Cursed you," Lupin said, still holding Snape's trembling shoulders as Snape drank a dram of the Potion to calm his tremors. "Why?" Lupin feathered Snape's face with desperate kisses and dragged him to sit on the settee, holding the Burn Salve in his hand.

"I couldn't tell him the whereabouts of the Order's headquarters or the plans for Potter's travel," Snape said quickly. "But that not important. I must report to Dumbledore." Snape said desperately. "There are four children held in Malfoy Manor." He kissed Lupin back, then threw his mask down and turned to the Floo. Lupin grabbled one arm tightly.

"Don't leave Severus," Lupin's voice sounded desperate and his eyes were dark and broody. The full moon approached, and Snape knew he would not win any battle of the wills this night. "Tell Albus by fire call. I don't want you to leave." Snape was going to tell him not to worry, but he saw the Lupin was past reassurance. How long he had been sitting here, Snape did not know, but clearly Lupin had worked himself into a state of some distress. Snape nodded curtly and got on his knees to make the call.

He told Dumbledore about the Baxters' children, the plans for them, and where they were being kept.

"I will send Arthur Weasley on a raid immediately, and we can ensure other Order members there to snatch the children under Disillusionment Charms so that Lucius will believe they have escaped in the confusion. Let's hope to Merlin we are in time. Well done, Severus. And the parents?"

"No, Albus," Snape said in a small, shamed voice. "I'm sorry." Snape could not see Dumbledore's face, but knew it would be sorrowful.

"Will you report in full tomorrow?" Dumbledore asked, "Remus permitting..." Snape could tell Dumbledore was not happy that Lupin had disregarded his orders to limit their meetings to their flat.

"Yes, Albus. I will." He stood when the Floo died down, and turned to Lupin, whose face was still grave and resentful. "I must."

"Sit," Lupin said and tended Snape's burnt hand with gentleness that belied his distressed state.

"I have much to tell you too, about the werewolf pack," Snape said. "You need to be careful ..."

"No, not now," Lupin shook his head gently. "Tomorrow."

oooOOOooo

When Lupin had taken Snape to bed, both knew as he carefully pushed himself into Snape's yielding body, it had not been for passion and desire, or even for release, but for union – for oneness, a need borne of fear of loss. Throughout the remainder of the night, as soon as Lupin was capable once more, he made love to Snape, without fever, but in slow desperation as if their souls' existence depended upon it. Come the morning, they lay tangled together in their bed, as much of their skin touching as they could. Legs intertwined, arms wrapped around each other and hands pressed to flesh. They kissed, not for desire, but for closeness, each so afraid for the other, but for now believing that union would keep them from danger.

* * *


	52. The End of Summer

"Little Peter gave me up? Just like that? No hesitation at all?" Lupin shook his head, too sad to be outraged.

"Offered the information willingly," Snape nodded. "He is a desperate man, Remus. He is tolerated on the periphery of the inner circle because he brought the Dark Lord back. It wouldn't take much for him to fall out of favour and he knows it."

"Poor Peter," said Lupin quietly.

"How can you pity him? Gutless ... spineless ... treacherous ..." Snape spat.

"All those things, yes." Lupin nodded sadly. "He betrayed James and Lily. I should hate him. But some people aren't brave like you, Severus. I will always wonder how it was that little Peter sold his friends to Voldemort ... how that happened between four friends such as we were. What did we do to him to drive him away ... to Voldemort?"

Snape wondered that the man before him could even think that Pettigrew deserved one iota of pity or understanding. Snape cupped Lupin's hand in his own and squeezed as Tippy, green satin bow in place, marched into the sitting room with an overloaded tray of full English breakfast.

"This does not look like a light breakfast, Tippy," Snape chided the house-elf.

"Master Lupin needs a proper breakfast, Professor Snape, sir. Professor Snape's food rules don't apply when Master Lupin is home," Tippy said confidently and left.

"Do I detect an element of favouritism by our house-elf, Remus, or has she been got at?" Snape smirked meaningfully at Lupin.

"I don't know what you could possibly mean," Remus said, a small smile playing on his lips.

"I suspect ribbons may have changed hands," Snape drawled, watching Lupin pile enormous amounts of sausage, egg, bacon, tomatoes, mushrooms and toast onto his plate and then reach for the condiments.

"Your arteries must be as furry as your coat on a full moon, Remus," Snape snorted.

"Ha!" Lupin almost barked a laugh. "All energy used in my transformations, Severus!" Lupin announced, as if exonerated. Snape shook his head and helped himself to lesser amounts of food. Lupin dragged Snape's chair, with him on it, so it was next to him and gave him a small smile. _Closeness_ , Snape thought and smiled back.

"You don't _forgive_ Pettigrew, do you?" Snape asked, watching Lupin's expression carefully.

"No ... no," Lupin stopped eating. He put down his knife and fork, and sat back in his chair, thinking. "I would still want to kill him if I could. That wouldn't help Sirius though, so I wouldn't do it. That doesn't stop me from wanting to know why though." Snape nodded and they carried on eating.

Snape told Lupin all about Greyback's efforts with the werewolf packs and how Snape thought he had been successful in engineering an information link he could tap into to keep Lupin advised on Greyback's movements with the packs.

"Although I'd rather you stopped all together," Snape said, he knew pointlessly. "Stayed safe," he added quietly.

"I'll stop if you do," Lupin said, still smiling.

"Look what happened to you!" Snape exploded, his fear suddenly breaking the surface of his calm exterior. "They trod on your wand hand! They beat you senseless! What if Tippy hadn't been able to find you ...?"

Lupin instantly grabbed Snape's wrist and held up his burnt hand. "And what's this?" Lupin hissed, eyebrows raised "A tender kiss from Voldemort? Did he do this before or after he put you under the Cruciatus?" The men seemed to stare at each other for an age.

"After ..." Snape whispered, searching the blue eyes that held his.

"Tell me why he did that," Lupin said insistently.

"He was going to cast it again. I told him of the Fidelius Charm and begged for mercy."

"So he burnt your hand instead?" Lupin's jaw worked as his voice rose. "Was this hand held out for mercy?" _How could Remus be so perceptive? Does he see into my soul?_ Snape thought sometimes he could.

Snape didn't think he could look in Lupin's eyes any more. So blue, so deep, so hurt ... so afraid. Snape looked to his food. Lupin gently let go of his wrist and let his own hand squeeze Snape's thigh.

"What we do is dangerous, Severus. Both of us. We do it because we hope we can be useful. Like the news you gave Albus last night that saved those children – that makes what we do worthwhile. But more than that: because we have a goal." He hooked his index finger under Snape's chin to turn his head to look at him once more. "Not just the defeat of Voldemort, Severus, but freedom for us – for you and me – to be together." He kissed the tip of Snape's nose. "I'd risk everything for that."

oooOOOooo

The job of collating the contacts had been fallen to Wilkes. It couldn't be easier: the man's Occlumency was atrocious. Snape made a point of visiting Wilkes with news, real or fake, agreed by Dumbledore, every other day, ostensibly to report, but in reality to pick, rather literally, his brains. It was perfect. He obtained details for Dumbledore which he could not be accused of knowing as the repository for all detail was Wilkes. He passed on all he learnt about wizarding targets to Dumbledore, and all he learnt about werewolf packs to Lupin as soon as he could reach him through the mirror. It helped to know he was forewarning him, where possible, but he still wished the duty of trying to convince the feral werewolves had fallen to another - any other who wasn't so dear to him.

oooOOOooo

With Potter, the Weasley children and the Granger girl now all resident at Grimmauld Place following Potter's successful acquittal of the trumped up charges, Snape ensured he kept his time there to an absolute minimum, his intention was to avoid the children all summer, if possible, merely reporting to Order meetings. Dumbledore would arrange to meet him beforehand to tell him the news he wanted imparted to the Dark Lord and arrange what, of the news Snape in turn had heard from the Dark Lord and Death Eaters, was to be imparted to the Order. Dumbledore was intent on managing all the information himself.

However, as far as Snape was concerned, the information on werewolves was for Lupin only and Snape decided what else he would share with Lupin – they spoke every day through the mirror and Snape would direct Lupin to whichever werewolf pack was safest. They met at the flat as often as they could, not drawing attention as no-one in the Order knew when or to where Lupin would go when he went on his missions – no-one, except Snape.

The month of August seemed to fly past. Snape was summoned to Death Eater meetings every three days or so. He seemed to escape torture since his unmasked walk with the Dark Lord and his position in the circle had changed. He now knelt at the Dark Lord's right hand side. Malfoy was every bit as furious as Snape had thought he would be. Snape did not take it for granted, and Dumbledore made sure he gave the Dark Lord information that helped to consolidate his position. He had even managed to discuss with the Dark Lord (without even so much as a short burst of the Cruciatus) that, once school started again, if Snape was to keep the cover the Dark Lord desired, he should not be summoned during the school day.

oooOOOooo

It was the end of August. The days were hot and the evenings balmy. There was no way of knowing it was summer in Grimmauld Place, it was so dark and dank. The Order meeting had been lively and, at times, fraught.

Arthur Weasley reported that the Baxter children had been relocated under the Order's new Muggle-born relocation programme to the New World, a world away from the Dark Lord's retribution and Lucius Malfoy's nefarious intentions. A half-blood wizarding family had been found to adopt them, and the children would attend the Salem School of Sorcery in New England. The members of the Order gave Arthur, Tonks, Shacklebolt and Moody congratulations of clapped backs and raised mugs.

Lupin caught Snape's eyes and smiled briefly whilst the others were distracted. At least, Lupin knew who'd passed on the information, and who had used his various contacts through the Worshipful Company of Master Potioneers and Apothecaries to find the half-blood family in New England. As much as Snape would love to shove his active role in the children's rescue down Black's throat, no-one else in the Order could know the children were intended as either Malfoy's bounty or Greyback's new initiates. If that were ever known, and the Dark Lord found out, he would know there was a traitor in his midst and Snape would be the prime suspect. As usual, Snape's efforts would remain unsung.

"You see, Snivelly," Black hissed. "That's real heroic work, not just skulking round corners and listening at keyholes."

"I suppose I could be polishing the keyholes instead – or perhaps dusting those pesky corners – just like the scion of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black," Snape sneered.

"Why you …" Black leapt to his feet, his chair scraping the flag stone floor, and drew his wand, and Snape snarled as he did the same.

"CAN YOU TWO NOT EVEN BEHAVE YOURSELVES FOR FIVE MINUTES IN THE SAME ROOM?" Molly shouted, no different than she would to her twins. The two grown men were both so startled that they backed down immediately and sat down, Black mumbling all the while, Snape silent, in front of the red haired woman, with her hands firmly on her hips, brandishing a ladle and looking for all the world as if she had every intention of using it – on them.

"The redoubtable Molly Weasley," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling merrily. "My secret weapon."

"Sorry, Headmaster, but I just don't understand why men always have to whip their wands out for everything ..."

The onlookers erupted into laughter, which possibly discomfited the two men more than anything, and for which they could only blame each other still. Snape snatched a look at Lupin, who was laughing softly too.

_You both deserve it._

Towards the end of the meeting, Snape gave his report: Yaxley had been divested of responsibility of using his French contact to parlay with the Giants as progress appeared non-existent, and Macnair had been sent personally instead. He advised the current prime targets of the Dark Lord that he wished to recruit so Dumbledore could make overtures and supplied the list of the latest targets of the Dark Lord's opprobrium and Kingsley was assigned to try to seek them out and organise protection. Snape was due to leave, having finished his report, and caught Lupin's eyes to say goodbye.

_Meet me in the library, Severus._

It was unusual in itself. He didn't usually stay. He didn't want to socialise. He didn't want see Lupin socialising with others, especially with Black. But now Lupin had told him to wait for him in the library, he did not want to say no. He advised Dumbledore he had private research to do in the library. Black snorted and made to comment but, for once, Dumbledore silenced Black with a sharp motion of his hand.

"I shall see you are undisturbed, Severus," he said mildly.

He looked around the heavy oak door: the library was large and covered with ornate bookcases filled floor to ceiling with books and musty smelling. He took out his wand. Lupin told him that many of the books held curses for the unwary. He chanted an incantation and, as his eyes scanned the titles on the spines, his wand scanned for curses. Some books glowed blood red as the wand wafted over them, revealing the curse that bound the book. Just the exercise itself fascinated Snape, just how much of their own library the Black family had cursed: some curses so only a family member could read them, some to alert the master of the house when a book had been read and by whom, some so that no-one could read without the counter-curse. Some rendered the books merely unreadable, but some would maim or poison the would-be reader.

Suddenly, a large hand grabbed him and pulled him to the side of one of the bookcases and pressed him hard against it. Lupin kissed him hungrily.

"What do you think you're doing?" Snape hissed as he broke for breath. "This is a bit public isn't it?"

"Hummm. Rewarding the hero of the hour. And you know how I can get, Severus, but if it pleases you ..."

Lupin cast a privacy charm around them for sound and then Snape felt the cold sensation of a Disillusionment Charm trickling down his body and found himself in the curious position of being unseen whilst being kissed and touched by an invisible Lupin.

"Now we're not public," said Lupin huskily, kissing Snape's face as his hands roved freely. As short of breath as Snape was becoming, as delicious as Lupin's hands and mouth were making him feel, and as much as the idea of shagging in Black's library under the mutt's nose appealed to him, Snape still retained just enough sense to see the flaw in Lupin's plan.

"I hate to spoil your plans to debauch me publically, but Albus can see through Disillusionment Charms, you know. So can Moody," he said with a smirk, although he had to admit, it did add piquancy to the encounter which he was surprised to find rather thrilled him. Lupin was really disinhibiting him too much.

"I suppose we're not hiding our relationship from Albus or Alastor," Lupin said as he unbuttoned Snape's collar buttons to kiss his throat.

"I rather think we _should_ hide this particular act from Albus and Moody," Snape chided almost breathlessly, but resigned himself as he found Lupin's hair and ran his fingers through it as Lupin kissed him whilst Snape's other hand stroked down Lupin's spine, provoking a small growl at back of Lupin's throat. Like it or not, Snape was really now very turned on.

"How am I supposed to resist you knowing you're wizard style under that robe, Severus? Once you go back to school next week, you'll be buttoned up and decently clothed again," Lupin said in a tone of mock complaint and Snape felt Lupin undo all the buttons in one hand movement and then trace his fingers on his stomach lightly, taking Snape's breath away.

Then he felt Lupin lowering himself onto his knees and Snape found himself holding his breath. He hitched his breath as he felt Lupin's hot breath ghost across his cock, and his hands found Lupin's hair again, tightening through it as Lupin began to flick his tongue at the tip.

"... and if Moody or Dumbledore come in now... ?" he gasped, thinking he would be quickly be past caring shortly as his groin flared brighter and hotter. Lupin stopped his ministrations and held onto Snape's cock in his hand as he answered, amusement evident in his tone.

"You can cover me with your open robe."

"I don't think that makes it look any better." He heard Lupin's soft laughter.

"I'd very much like to take you in this library, Severus. I spend quite a lot of time in here reading. It would be nice to have a memory of you here too."

"It's too public," Snape sighed. He heard another lewd, throaty chuckle.

"That's a rather handsome Chesterfield settee, don't you think? I can guarantee it's curse-free now," Lupin murmured, his fingers of one hand stroking Snape's cock lightly whilst the other hand held Snape's thigh firmly as he spoke. Each time he finished a sentence, he would languidly kiss or lick Snape's shaft making him gasp, although his lightly stroking fingers never stopped. "You could brace yourself quite comfortably there for me, but it's strong enough to take the pace, I think." _Lick._ "That large oak desk is a Chippendale, you know." _Kiss._ "I removed several curses from it myself." _Kiss._ "Perhaps we should seal its curse-free status with a conjugal rite of our own." _Lick._ "What do you think, Severus?" Lupin chuckled so deeply in his own throat that it made Snape's groin throb harder. "Aren't you at all excited?" Lupin murmured.

"Yes, yes I am," Snape whispered, his eyes closed, intensifying the feeling of Lupin's breath on his cock and the lightly stroking fingers and the whisper of cold air in the library against his exposed flesh.

"Do you want me to beg?" Lupin asked, his tone cheeky.

"Yes, yes I do," Snape said, his own tone deeper now.

"The more you make me beg, the harder I'll take you when you finally agree."

"All the more reason to hold out, Remus," Snape said, thinking he wouldn't last long at all if Lupin carried on this way.

He heard a very filthy chuckle that made him groan as he became harder still and then warm breath on his cock again as Lupin hummed and then murmured onto his shaft, "Please, Severus, please. I beg you ..."

* * *

Lupin had lifted the Disillusionment Charm and warded the door instead. He slouched in one corner of the Chesterfield settee, and Snape's head rested on his lap, his body draped the length of the settee, his robe still wide open although stuck to his damp body as Lupin played with Snape's hair in the afterglow of rather energetic sex over the settee.

"Why are you so obsessed with what I may or may not wear under my robe?" Snape asked.

"It's completely your fault, Severus."

"Naturally, but how so?"

"When I first came back to Hogwarts to teach, the first I saw of you after all those years was at the Welcoming Feast, do you recall?" Lupin said lightly.

"The memory is forever etched on my brain, Remus." Snape drawled. He had one hell of a row with Dumbledore, possibly one of their very worst.

"There you were – so different from when I last saw you at school. You were ... quite striking." Lupin was smiling at Snape at the recollection.

_Striking? As his mother had been striking?_

"Still clearly you, with your black hair and black eyes and pale skin, but a man now, not a youth. You stood tall and straight, but you didn't when you were young. You held yourself with confidence you didn't have at school. You were taller, broader shoulders, your features more manly, but something exotic about them. But you were all bundled up in black. But I could see those shoulders and beautifully narrow hips. I was entranced."

"You were looking at me like that at the Welcoming Feast?" Snape was stunned. He had had no idea.

"Oh yes. It was quite a disappointment to meet your gaze for the first time in all those years and realise you could have disembowelled me on the spot. Have I told you, you have amazing eyes when you're angry, Severus?"

"I believe you have." Snape smiled.

"Well, I realised by that look and the distinct aroma of loathing you emanated around me that we probably weren't going to be able to put aside our differences, so I didn't attempt to try to engage you as I would have done otherwise. I just watched you instead."

"There is an aroma of loathing?"

"Oh yes. Sometimes, a wolf's olfactory sense can be an advantage to those who would dissemble. But let's face facts, Severus, I didn't need a developed sense of smell to tell me that you hated me with a passion. I wondered whether you were passionate in different ways. I watched you anyway. You are an attractive man after all …"

"Hardly …." Snape scoffed.

"And yet Lucius Malfoy covets you still…" Lupin noted, still with some annoyance, but it passed and he smiled again. "Let's not discuss that. So … I watched you any way. So aloof and cold. I wanted to be the fire to melt your ice, Severus. I could imagine you ignite at my hands." Snape felt a thrill run through his gut. _Isn't that what had happened?_ "I thought I'd see you in different robes, but it was always black, full robes, like you were hiding. You fascinated me but, given your depth of feeling against me, you had to remain just a rather tantalising visual."

"A visual? What do you mean?"

"Well – you know – oh … you probably don't. Hmm. This … oh." It wasn't often Snape saw Lupin flounder.

"I can't believe you're embarrassed, Remus." Snape was intrigued.

"Possibly – but I think, not for long." He ploughed ahead. "When men masturbate, Severus, we usually use a visual, don't we?"

"ME!" Snape sat up. "Before the Thrall? You thought about me when you …" Snape's eyes were wide. Lupin laughed deeply.

"Oh yes, Severus. And it was always unbuttoning that bloody black robe and imagining what was underneath it. I told you my fantasy long ago." Lupin pressed Snape to lie down again.

"I … well … I … had no idea you thought of me like that before the Thrall," Snape gasped.

"Of course, once I was hit with the Thrall, well ... I certainly knew what enthralled meant. Your scent changed. It drowned me in lust. You were on my mind all the time, trying to imagine what was under those damn robes, wishing I could find out for real."

"Merlin help me …" Snaped rasped. "Was it … when you saw …" _Merlin, why do I stutter like a teenager – the man is my husband!_

"Everything I hoped for, except the circumstances. When you stood naked before me, you looked just as I hoped. I was so frustrated you didn't want me to touch you the way I wanted to." Lupin traced his fingers along Snape's chest. "That lean body ... that white skin, like silk to the touch ... those narrow hips ... that long throat – oh, and those beautifully long legs." Lupin growled at the base of his throat. "And those mystery details finally revealed." He drew his fingers from Snape's navel, down to curl in his hair and along Snape's cock and around his balls to trace his opening. "But I wanted more than that. I wanted to know how you would react to my touch - how you liked to be touched – how you wanted to be kissed – all those things I said to you on that night. That is what I wanted." He leant down as Snape raised his head and they kissed softly. "And when I got those – you were a fantasy come true."

* * *


	53. Discoveries in the Library

"So," Snape said quietly, pacing his words out slowly and pinching the bridge of his nose quite hard to help him steady his rising temper, " ... let me understand this: Albus forbade Black from entering the library once everyone else had left. Black was put out. He went to bed ... as I understand it ... sulking." Snape's voice was dripping with disdain. "In the morning, when you wouldn't tell him where you had been or what you had been doing, he had a stand-up row with you about me, and he gave you a black eye. Am I correct?" Snape stared at Lupin incredulously.

"That's about the size of it," Lupin said, dejectedly, slumped on a stool in their flat as Snape stood before him looking at Lupin's upturned face. Snape expelled a puff of air and shook his head and then carried on dabbing the bruise salve to Lupin's cheekbone.

"This is how best friends behave in Gryffindor, is it?" Snape drawled.

"It's ridiculous, I know ..."

"Well, did you black his eye back? I'm from Cokeworth, Remus, I know a thing or two about Muggle fighting, I assure you. Or did you let your best friend hit you once more? Hmmm?" Snape found he was really quite angry, and yet incapable of doing anything about it. It was infuriating. Sarcasm was his only available weapon.

"That's enough Severus. We had a fight. A ridiculous, idiotic fist fight and you'll be pleased to know it was over you," Lupin said, defensively.

"That's a low blow, Remus. I'm not pleased about it at all. I wish the whole thing would go away – either Albus would Obliviate Black properly or let you tell him, and get the pyrotechnics that will undoubtedly ensue over with." Snape snapped impatiently. "Then it will be one less thing for us to worry about."

"Sirius isn't a fool. He knows something's going on with us. I've told Albus I want to tell Sirius. It's too difficult to hide it, cooped up in his house like that. Albus says we have to try harder. I can't ignore you every time you're in that house and keep bottling myself up. It's just too hard." Lupin let out a sigh of frustration. "Sometimes, I can't make Albus out at all. Sirius is shut up in that house – he never leaves – how would his knowing endanger us?" Lupin shook his head.

"It probably wouldn't with the Dark Lord. However, I have no doubt, when he finds out, Black himself will endanger me," Snape snorted.

"I'm sure that's not true …" Lupin started, but Snape cut him short.

"You are denying the reality, Remus. Black and I hate each other. It goes deep. You won't be able to waltz up to him and say, 'Oh by the way, Sirius, I soul bonded and Claimed Snivelly, that's okay, isn't it? Oh, and can we shag in your ancestral home?' and then he'll invite me for a butterbeer to celebrate and to let bygones be bygones and the two of us will be bosom buddies ever after!" Snape drawled sarcastically.

"Don't take me for a fool either, Severus," Lupin said, clearly affronted. "I'm not a fool. I know full well it won't be like that, even if I fervently wish it could be. But one thing I am sure of is that the longer Sirius is kept in the dark, the worse it will be when he does find out, or when we are eventually free to tell him." Lupin sighed again and pulled Snape to him. "Please understand, Severus. He's my friend, my brother. I don't want to shut him out."

Snape felt deflated and touched Lupin's face gently. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be harsh. I'll support whatever you want but be careful what you wish for, Remus."

Lupin then snorted softly. "Well, at least I know now that if you two misbehave, I can threaten you with Molly Weasley and be assured of your best behaviour."

"She is rather formidable." Snape smiled sheepishly.

"In a contest, Severus, are you more frightened by Molly Weasley or Poppy Pomfrey?" Lupin teased.

"I'm not sure frightened is the right word. I think I may be unnerved. Yes, that's the right word. And without a doubt: Poppy Pomfrey. It's not up for question," Snape affirmed.

"What of Minerva?" Lupin asked, in an offhand manner as Snape cleaned his fingers of bruise salve.

"A complete pussy cat," Snape smiled.

"Interesting," Lupin said, almost inaudibly, making Snape's attention snap back to him.

"How so?" he demanded.

"That both you and Sirius are so cowed by maternal women, but fearless of strong but non-maternal women."

"I am not cowed," Snape protested, offended, "and I don't understand your point."

"Well, Minerva isn't the matriarchal type, but she is strong willed and strict. You clearly respect and admire her and Sirius has always adored her. Poppy and Molly are caring and maternal although equally strict, and you both are helpless before them." Lupin shrugged nonchalantly. "It's interesting."

"Are you going to do some type of Muggle head-shrinking on me and Black to show how _similar_ we are …" Snape enquired, with a delicate emphasis on the word he clearly thought could never apply to them both.

"No, no," Lupin rushed.

"Is this something to do with our mothers, because I assure you that my mother was nothing like that banshee Black had for a mother."

"Walburga Black may have had children, but she never loved them or cared for them. She was never tender and caring like Molly or Poppy. Her children were family assets, like the silverware or the books in the library. It was almost impossible for Sirius to ever love his mother – she didn't allow it. He doesn't know how to relate to really maternal women. Your mother, well she wasn't like Mrs. Black, I know, but …"

"… she never cared for me, is what you're saying?" Snape said, feeling pained.

"That's not what I meant – I meant, from what you've told me, your mother could never care for you because of the pressure and violence placed on her by your father. But the end result is the same."

Snape wanted to be offended, but he knew Lupin was right. He watched in awe the way men like Lupin could wind women like Molly and Poppy round their little fingers, both women falling over themselves to care for such men if they would let them and they invariably did. He saw Black's reticence with Molly every time he was at the house. He had thought Black just didn't like her, but maybe Lupin was right and he just didn't know how to deal with her.

Snape didn't know how to deal with them either, but he'd learnt to do as he was told by Poppy over very many years, and she was kind and patient with him in return. Molly, he watched warily. She always wanted to feed him, and the other men, whenever she saw any of them. Black was short-tempered with her for this. Lupin took all offerings gratefully and with his ravishing smile. Snape rather liked it, but always said no. It was not his Death Eater persona to allow himself to be mothered, as much as he might enjoy it and he suspected he rather would - if times were different ...

* * *

"The Ministry decreed that if I cannot make an appointment, they will do so. That means, of course, that Cornelius and his coterie will make the appointment. No-one else has even applied for the Defence against the Dark Arts post, so he will make the appointment." Dumbledore looked at Snape over his glasses, a look that demanded understanding, but knew it would not be bestowed.

"Or you could appoint me ..." Snape said flatly, his lips a thin line of annoyance.

"Now, now, Severus," Dumbledore clucked.

"Don't patronise me, Albus. It is your least attractive attribute," Snape snapped as he paced impatiently in front of Dumbledore's desk, his outstretched palm gesturing for emphasis with each point. "So, is it such a terrible idea? Is it that I do not have the requisite knowledge? That I cannot discipline a classroom? Am I a poor teacher, only fit to take on the ridiculously easy task of stopping the students blowing up the school and maiming each other? Do tell, Albus," Snape drawled, his whole body stiffened with offence as he came to a halt in front of the Headmaster.

"You know why," Dumbledore said softly, meeting Snape's incandescent stare.

"No, I don't Albus. You tell me that the post is cursed and you cannot afford to lose me. I tell you that I don't believe in that curse, but, if it exists, it can always be lifted. Everyone else believes that if you give me that post, I will immediately become consumed in arts so Dark that my soul will instantaneously combust in Fiendfyre! It is a delight to me that you have no confidence in my morality." Snape barked and sat heavily on the chair in front of the desk.

Dumbledore pinched his nose. "The post is cursed, without a doubt. Look what happened to each of the last incumbents. It is undeniable."

"Hmph. If I were you, I'd consult a curse-breaker." Snape bit out sarcastically, feeling rebellious as well as offended. "Know any? Oh – William Weasley perhaps?" He shrugged theatrically.

"I also need a Potions Master and, for the umpteenth time, Severus, you are a rare commodity." Dumbledore continued to meet Snape's scalding stare with mild amusement, then he shifted in his seat. "Cornelius's appointment to the Defence against the Dark Arts post is a lady called Dolores Umbridge. It should please you, Severus: she was in Slytherin."

"I know of her. Remus has spoken of her often. A minor Ministry official who instituted the anti-werewolf employment laws. No teaching experience either, I gather. Sounds just my cup of tea, Headmaster," Snape said witheringly.

"And yet three years ago, her ideas would have been very much ... your cup of tea," Dumbledore rejoined sharply. Snape drew in a sharp breath.

"That's below the belt, Albus." Snape stiffened once more and rose to leave.

"You are right. I apologise. Please sit." Dumbledore said, placatingly and summoned some tea and poured it whilst Snape quelled his indigation. "Let's change the subject." They sat for a while, drinking tea, Dumbledore looking perfectly comfortable with Snape's seething silence, until Snape eventually cracked first.

"I was surprised you didn't choose Potter for prefect," Snape said.

"Were you? I thought you'd be more surprised by my choice of Slytherin prefects. I assumed they would be the preferred candidates for Voldemort's followers and that their choice would be favourably attributed to you."

"You're all heart, Albus," Snape sneered. "You understand now the Dark Lord is back I will be expected to put Potter through the mill. The Death Eaters' offspring will report my every move," Snape said.

"More through the mill than usual Severus?" Dumbledore said, his eyebrows raised.

"It will be no less than Potter expects. I assure you the enmity is mutual," Snape retorted.

"And yet, he is a child and you are twenty years his senior, Severus," Dumbledore rejoined lightly, but his eyes bored into Snape's own with reproof as Snape made a soft noise of irritation. "Sooner or later, Severus, you need to realise that he is not his father." Dumbledore took a sip of tea. "As does Sirius," he muttered. If it had been anyone else, Snape would have assumed the comment wasn't for his ears, but he knew Dumbledore never made comments that were not meant to be heard.

* * *

Now that school had resumed, Snape had even less opportunity to slip away and sneak time to be with Lupin, whether at the flat, his house or Grimmauld Place. He had even been sorry to leave Spinner's End for the first time in his life, now that Lupin could be there with him occasionally, exorcising his ghosts one by one, every day or night spent, a delicious memory in the making of care and love that Snape was sure that house had never known, at least whilst any Snape had resided there.

He was even sorry that the end of the holiday meant the little house-elf would also return to the staff of Hogwarts. He and Lupin had enjoyed the house-elf's rather cheeky presence; Snape was pretty sure she was encouraged by Lupin – only Lupin could even disinhibit a house-elf to cheek the sour Potions Master of Hogwarts. Just the thought of it made him smile. And yet, the little elf had as good as saved Lupin's life. He wondered if Dumbledore would assign her to them during term time too. Knowing he had a link whereby he could physically trace Lupin in time of need had reassured him tremendously after Lupin's beating at the hands of the New Forest pack. He wanted to retain it. He would ask.

All Snape knew now they were well into the first term was that the weekend couldn't come soon enough for him: it would be the September full moon and he was desperate for the release the full moon brought them both, not to mention his desperation to vent about the abomination that had turned out to be Dolores Umbridge.

* * *

Lupin wasn't at this Order meeting. He had been with a werewolf pack on the South Downs that Greyback hadn't yet visited, according to Snape's intelligence. His return was imminent. Dumbledore reported that this one might well be a success for the Order.

Mundungus Fletcher then reported that he had been in the Hog's Head the previous day and overheard Potter, Weasley and Granger arranging a secret Defence against the Dark Arts group with a number of interested students. Molly Weasley was near to nervous collapse at the very thought. It took both Arthur and Bill a long time to calm her down and only managed it once she had extracted an oath from Sirius to talk Weasley out of participation. _Fat chance of that,_ thought Snape with a snort, _that boy stuck to Potter like glue_. Moody commented to all that would listen that it was a fine idea, and just a shame that they had no adult to guide and teach them properly. Snape threw Dumbledore a filthy look that it should not have come to this: children trying to teach themselves, because even the Ministry itself had let them down and Dumbleore was too stubborn to let Snape teach them. Tonks was vocal in her support of the group, but Snape felt that admiring the children's courage really rather missed the salient point. Yet again.

Once the commotion had subsided, Snape delivered his own report and then slipped away to the library, this time for some genuine research.

He smirked at the Chesterfield settee and the remembrances it evoked, and then set about looking for what he needed. Lupin had told Snape that Potter's scar was hurting. The boy had told Black that the pain was worse, and he believed that it was intensifying. Both Snape and Lupin had been intrigued by what was clearly a connection with the Dark Lord and one that Dumbledore was reluctant to discuss with Snape. Snape remembered he had seen a number of prohibited books on Dark magic on revenants and Mind and Soul Magic in Black's library before he had become distracted by Lupin's amorous ministrations.

He thought he would take the opportunity to explore some of the more outlandish theories he been considering and, using the same incantation as before, identified which of the books he was interested in carried curses and of what type. He chanted the counter-curse for a particularly heavily cursed book on soul magic that he had Levitated to the desk. He took his dragonhide gloves from his cloak and began to peruse the contents: chapters on revenants, wraiths, shades, phantasms, canopic curses, horcruxes, necromancy ...

He was just thinking that this looked like a good starting point when he heard the hated voice behind him:

"Well, well, well, Snivellus."

Black.

Snape spun to face him, wand at the ready but the spell had already left Black's wand and lips. _Never one to fight fair, after all,_ Snape thought bitterly as his wand flew into Black's left hand and Black leered at him. Snape moved slowly away from the desk, watching Black's movements like a hawk, whilst wordlessly charming the spare wand in his arm holster down his arm slowly so as not to alert Black that he had a back up.

"Back for a repeat of your last performance in my library, are you, Snivellus?" Black spat, his own wand dancing impatiently in his hand as he tucked Snape's wand in his belt. "Always sniffing round Moony lately. Why's he suddenly become such an attraction for a Death Eater, hm?" He moved closer to Snape, using his superior height to try to intimidate him. "You've been spending the full moon together." A statement, not a question. "I know it," he hissed. "Why would he even want to be near you at the full moon? There's only one reason I can think of. But he wouldn't. Why would he ... with you ..?" Snape knew all these questions were rhetorical. Black wasn't interested in Snape answering him, he was just trying to work through the bits of information he had gleaned for himself and that he was so unhappy about.

He advanced on Snape once more, his teeth gritted. "Well, let's just see, shall we Snivellus!" In that instant, and frighteningly fast, Black cast _Diffindo!_

The wand movement slashed, and Snape's robe and cravat were slashed from his neck and shoulder, revealing what Black had been looking for. Snape's hand darted to cover the bite from Black's horrified stare and in that second Black cast _Incarcerous._

Black's slate gaze narrowed, and his teeth bared and he crouched over Snape's bound body.

"What foul arts did you use, Snivellus?" he sneered. "You must have Imperiused him to touch you. No-one would touch you willingly, you greasy, scrawny snake. You disgust me!" he spat, his loathing contorting his features. "Well, I know enough about how Moony works. I can break this enchantment or whatever it is you've worked on him." He paced around Snape's bound form, his knuckles white as he held his wand so tightly, his breathing ragged, hatred etched on his face.

"All I have to do is touch you myself and he'll kill you. He won't be able to help himself," Black sneered, triumphant in his own logic. He walked around Snape, still staring wild-eyed at the exposed Claiming bite.

"He'll kill you too, mutt, so perhaps it would be worth it," Snape hissed.

"I don't think so. Moony would never hurt me. Never." Black was undoing the button fly on his trousers. "You'll be used to this. I know what went on in Slytherin and what they did to half-bloods like you. You know the score, Snivellus."

"You're every inch the pureblood shit I always knew you were," Snape snarled.

"And you're going to take every pureblood inch, Snivelly," Black said viciously. "And Moony will smell me on your breath even if you scrub your mouth, and he will kill you. Moony will never believe you over me. Get over here in front of me!" Black raised his wand. _Imperio._

"You talk too much, Black," Snape said softly, throwing off the Imperius easily, his spare wand now worked into his grasp. He wordlessly released the bonds and in the same instant sent a shield charm around himself, jumped to his feet and cast _Stupefy_. Black parried, casting a Repulsion Hex of his own and they sent violent Stunning and Repulsion spells at each other time after time, sending books flying as they missed their mark and splintering vintage furniture as they swooped and leapt out of each other's spells' trajectories, magic crackling around them as their anger with each other mounted and the spells became more ferocious.

" _EXPELLIARMUS!"_

Snape and Black's wands shot out of their hands to Lupin, his face a mask of fury as he stood at the library door staring at the two men who were now frozen in shock.

"How could you...?" Lupin whispered dangerously, his eyes blazing at both, until his eyes settled on one man.

"How could you, Sirius? You know what mating means to me. You of all people ... you took all that time to understand werewolves ... and yet you would do this to me! How could you?" He strode over to stand protectively in front of Snape.

"You'd choose Snivellus over me!" Black exclaimed, his disbelief and disgust evident on his face.

"I shouldn't have to choose at all, Sirius!" Lupin shouted back. "What the hell did you think you were doing? Why did you do this?" He gestured the cut clothes on Snape's body and then pointed to Black's open fly with his wand. "If you suspected it, you should have respected it. You should have respected me, Sirius!"

Snape had never seen Lupin so furious. His face was white with rage, his blue eyes blazed dark and he seemed so much bigger, so threatening a presence. The wolf had been taunted, that much was clear. Lupin passed Snape's spare wand back to him and he then sent a resounding hex to Black, but instantly Snape sent a shield charm between them. Lupin turned to Snape fast. "Why did you stop me?" he snarled.

"I saw what you cast, Remus. I do not want you in Azkaban for killing or maiming Black," Snape said softly, moving his hand slowly down Lupin's shaking wand arm to pacify him. Lupin stared at Snape, wide-eyed, still in a state of rage.

_You've shown me everything I ever wanted. Please come away now. You couldn't live with the guilt._ _Come away with me._

_I know what he tried to do you. I can't forgive it._ Lupin's body was trembling with rage.

_And yet, you must. Believe me, Remus, you must. Please. For me._

Snape knew what it was to lose one's only friend. He cared nothing for Black or his safety, but he cared for Lupin. Snape knew how he had bitterly regretted all his life losing the only friend he had had. It didn't matter why now - in the end, only the bitterness remained. He would not have that happen to Lupin. Black was a creature of his type, resorting in the end to pureblood ways. Lupin knew now; knew what Black truly was. Snape didn't need any other revenge.

Lupin stood, mid-stance, looking between Snape at his shoulder and Black before him, imploring Moony to listen to him.

"Fasten your trousers, you bastard!" Lupin spat viciously as he grabbed Snape's wand from Black's belt and, as Black buttoned the final button, Lupin sent his friend flying with one hex, and then cast _Petrificus Totalus,_ leaving him bound on the floor before casting a silencing charm on him.

Lupin knelt on one knee in front of Sirius's prone body. "Never underestimate what Severus means to me, Sirius." Lupin stood and went to stand before Snape. Taking one look at Sirius, he pushed Snape's hair aside and sucked at his Claiming bite, causing Snape to moan and then kissed Snape passionately, hooking his arm around Snape in a vice-like embrace.

"What are you doing?" Snape whispered in horror.

"Showing him what you mean to me. I hope it burns out his eyes!" Lupin spat and Snape could see that Lupin had every intention of taking Snape in front of Black.

_No!_ Snape said to Lupin's mind. _You will shame me._

Lupin stared at Snape for what seemed a long time, fighting his own instincts to mark his territory publically to that person who had trespassed on it. Snape could see it and feel it as if it were tangible.

_Remus. Please listen to me. Don't do this. Not in front of my enemy._

He saw the shift happen in Lupin's eyes as the sexual aggression came under control by degrees, albeit temporarily. Lupin gave Snape a small nod. Then, with a deliberately slow wand movement, Lupin sliced down the arm of Snape's robe to expose the bonding circlet on it.

"I wear its mate," Lupin said quietly, holding Snape's arm in his hand and running his thumb over the circlet lovingly as he fixed Black with his stare. "Since you don't respect a werewolf's Claim, do you at least recognise the sanctity of a wizard's soul bond?" Snape heard the upset in Lupin's voice and saw mute tears in Black's eyes. He knew not whether Black was upset, angry or shamed. He cared not.

Lupin turned from Black and cast _Reparo_ to Snape's sliced robes, gently repairing them and then smoothed them with his hands.

"That is what Severus means to me, Sirius," he stated, calmly, although Snape could see his eyes still alight with the fire of trespass. He released Black from the body bind and silencing charm, and before Black could speak again, pulled Snape to him and Apparated them both to Lupin's room upstairs and warded it against entry and sound.

oooOOOooo

Lupin had been insatiable and relentless throughout the night. He had pushed Snape's body further than ever. Lupin had taken Snape every way he could: his mouth, on his back, on his stomach, on his hands and knees, his animal possessiveness was provoked and could not be sated.

It was now dawn, and Snape had to return to the school. He whispered it to the man next to him whose arms wrapped around him so tightly. Lupin pulled him closer still.

Snape was grubby, bruised and bitten – well and truly marked. His lips were swollen, his jaw hurt, his balls ached, his cock felt raw, his hips felt disjointed, his arse profoundly sore, his whole body felt abused and when he tried to stand, his knees would barely hold him. Yet every time Lupin had fucked him, no matter how ferociously, it had felt magnificent to Snape as it claimed him as Lupin's very own. Every time he thought he could take no more and would have to beg for mercy, his body found extra reserves to meet his husband's demands on it, to moisten him, to be pliable, to come again and again to Lupin's hand or mouth or just on Lupin's cock alone. And now, even as he stood to dress, Lupin pulled him back to bed with the one word he had said all night, "mine," as he covered him again.

oooOOOooo

Drenched in sweat, with Lupin still kissing him, he tried to speak through the kisses.

"I need to go. Get showered. Teach brats." His voice was hoarse, from crying out throughout the night.

"Shower here, with me," Lupin rasped.

"What about Black?"

"What about him?" Lupin said lightly, untangled himself from Snape and stood. Snape noticed Lupin's knees didn't tremble, obviously fuelled by the wolf. Lupin held out his hands to help Snape up. "Do you think when we were young, Sirius never saw me with a lover, or never heard us, or never realised we might shower. That it is you, he will have to get used to. It's not up for question, Severus. We will shower together, then we will have breakfast together. If Sirius doesn't like it, I'll ram it down his throat until he understands." Lupin made towards the bedroom door, quite naked.

Snape pulled Lupin back. "I understand," he said softly and caught Lupin's lips with his own, "but please, Remus. Let me have my dignity." He looked into Lupin's eyes, hoping he understood better now morning had come. Snape was overjoyed to be the object of Lupin's pride, knowing it was the lupine possessiveness that had seized Lupin since discovering Black threatening to assault Snape in the library and he knew that possessiveness also wanted to mark its territory, but he would not be paraded naked to the bathroom or anything else shaming that might make sense to Lupin in his current pumped state.

For the first time since the library, the brutish lust in Lupin's eyes finally seemed to ebb and they softened with understanding and he kissed Snape's lips in return and found his own bathrobe and wrapped Snape tenderly in it and then pulled on his own trousers.

"I'm sorry, my love," he said softly, now more wizard than wolf, and led Snape to the bathroom and charmed it locked.

Snape had thought he would be taken harshly again, but Lupin's possessive mood had dissipated now and he ministered to Snape tenderly, almost apologetically, on his knees with his mouth as the shower rained down on them and then Lupin soaped him and cleansed him and finally dried him with the gentlest of hands, treasuring him.

oooOOOooo

Black was seated at the head of the table in the kitchen. He looked hellish and clearly had not slept all night, or even tried. An empty bottle of Firewhiskey sat before him and he was nursing a large mug of black coffee.

Snape and Black eyed each other as Snape sat down a few chairs away, doing his best not to show his physical discomfort, neither saying a word. Lupin went to the range.

"Do you want breakfast with us, Sirius?" he said lightly. Snape marvelled at the renewed control – no trace of his temper now remained - he was mild mannered Remus Lupin once more.

"It would make me sick," Black hissed, still staring at Snape, his eyes occasionally darting to Snape's arm where he know knew the bonding circlet was.

"By all means," Lupin said mildly, "you can cut off your nose to spite your face, or you could grow up and have some breakfast with us. Soak up the booze."

"Grow up!" Black shouted, turning in his chair to Lupin. "So, here, in my house, were you ever going to tell me about this ... this bonding? When did it happen?"

"New Year," Lupin said, breaking eggs into a bowl, clearly making enough for three in Snape's estimation. Snape watched Black's face fall further.

"You didn't tell me ..." he whispered.

"You were on the run. It wasn't news for a letter," Lupin replied simply busying himself whisking the eggs and cutting and buttering bread as he spoke. "I was going to tell you when I saw you in person. Events overtook us. Unfortunately, that was when Voldemort returned. It went from my mind at that point, then Albus asked us to keep our bonding secret so Severus could return to Voldemort to spy for us. I think you'll agree that being bonded to a werewolf might not fit that image." Lupin gave Black a tight smile, but it didn't reach his blue eyes. "Then Albus Obliviated you."

"WHAT?" Black's mouth dropped open.

"I told him it wouldn't take and I've watched you fighting against it ever since, and now you know," Lupin added the eggs to the pan.

"I'd rather be Obliviated," Black pouted, _like a bloody child_ , Snape thought.

"Do allow me the privilege," Snape snarled.

"Severus," Lupin chided softly. As he teased the scrambled eggs over the heat, he turned to Black and regarded him coolly. "If that's what you want, I'll speak to Albus." He served up the scrambled eggs and bread and butter to each man and a serving for himself. "I would prefer, however, to have the support and love of my friend," Lupin added softly, devastatingly.

Black's eyes darted from Snape to Lupin and back again, his private thoughts churning over in his mind. Lupin replenished his coffee and passed Snape a mug of strong tea, squeezing his hand as he did so. Black made a noise of disgust.

"Don't!" Lupin spat as he spun around to Black. "Just don't you make those stupid noises at us! You have no idea what this is like for us." His finger was pointing in Black's face and Snape noted that it trembled. Perhaps, he was not as in control as Snape had thought and Snape watched carefully. Lupin dropped his hand suddenly and sat down in between Snape and Black, the muscles in his jaw visibly jumping and pulled his plate of food towards himself.

"Moony ..." Black started, his face softening, until he looked at Snape again, and then his expression hardened. "Why? I mean, how? With Sniv ... Snape."

Snape decided he really didn't want to be there for that particular conversation. Lupin carried on eating and looked meaningfully at both of the other men's untouched plates.

"Both of you: eat," he said shortly. "Severus needs to get to work then you and I, Sirius - you and I will talk." He looked straight into Black's eyes and Snape watched Black's reactions. "You can ask me what you want, and I will tell you. Be under no delusion though Sirius: Severus begged me not to kill you." Lupin's expression was like granite. "I hope you understand how close you came." Lupin glared at Black, whose face drained, his face a riot of confused emotions. "So do not ... and I mean it ... do – not - denigrate my husband to me." Snape saw Black flinch at the word 'husband'. Snape saw Black wasn't used to this strength of mind from his friend. He was shocked by that as much as anything else. He was upset. He was angry still.

oooOOOooo

Snape returned to Hogwarts well before classes started, and took a Pepper Up Potion to see him through the day, followed by a sore throat potion – he needed his voice to teach. He considered pain relieving potions, but part of him savoured his aches and pains as reminders and he was sure he could overcome the slight limp. When he went to bed tonight, he promised himself, he would relive all of the night with Lupin with the physical reminders still with him. Even as he thought this, a thrill pierced him, increasing the throbbing ache already resident in his lower body. It really wasn't unpleasant at all. The look of horror of Black's face helped ... of course. That was probably the best of all, knowing once and for all, Lupin would defend him from his enemy. It shouldn't make that much difference to him – but it did. It made his chest swell with happiness. He smiled to himself, absent-mindedly picking up a note a house-elf had left on his desk whilst he had administered his Potions.

The parchment was decidedly – pink. His brow furrowed. His long fingers unrolled the parchment gingerly to read that his fifth year class of Gryffindors and Slytherins today would be inspected by the Hogwarts High Inquisitor. His good mood evaporated on the instant and he held out the parchment to arm's length.

_Incendio_.

* * *


	54. Taking Umbrage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes from Chapter 17 of OotP are in bold and © J.K. Rowling

Inspecting his class? Really? What would she even know about Potions or the teaching of it? He had avoided her "inspections" so far, undoubtedly due to her Slytherin affiliation. He wondered why he had come under her scrutiny one month after the others, as he swept towards his classroom, his foul temper providing all the pain relief he needed to correct his limp.

His first double lesson passed without incident as his NEWT class invariably did. There were so few entrants for NEWT Potions, he could be assured that only those truly committed would take this subject and attempt the intrinsically dangerous potions involved in it.

After the class left, he ensured the class room was in order before its inspection. Before the end of the break, the door opened and in strode Dolores Umbridge, dressed in an ugly tweed twinset and her ridiculous bow on top of her head. A picture of Tippy in her bow popped alarmingly into his head and he looked to the floor so she would not see his amusement. There he espied her rather girlish shoes with kitten heels over which her fat ankles spilled. Her feet reminded Snape of pig's trotters as she tottered toward him.

"Professor Snape," she smiled up at him in a semblance of sweetness in greeting, brandishing her clipboard.

"Professor Umbridge," Snape said, giving her a curt nod.

"Now," she chirped, "I will pass along the aisle as you teach so I can gauge both your teaching style and the students' reactions. Then ..."

"I think not, Professor Umbridge," said Snape silkily. "The potion this OWL class is currently undertaking can be unstable. The students should _not_ be distracted during this lesson or there may be _unfortunate_ consequences."

"I see," Umbridge said, an edge of steel in her girlishly high voice. It was clear she did not care for anything other than acquiescence.

"There is a corner at the back of my classroom that would suit your purposes admirably," said Snape. As Umbridge took her appointed seat with an expression of marked displeasure, Snape heard the commotion that signified the arrival of his treat of the week: Gryffindor and Slytherin OWL students. _Oh joy._ He wondered why it had to be this class of all classes. _Why the class with Potter in it?_ _Ah, of course. That was the very point, was it not?_ Umbridge was Fudge's woman and Potter was under her scrutiny too.

He opened the **dungeon door** and stood in the doorway watching the students **. His black eyes swept up the Gryffindor line to the point where** Potter and Weasley appeared to be **wrestling with** Longbottom **.** _Curious._ Had Umbridge not been there, he might have enquired the reason for it.

' **Fighting, Potter, Weasley, Longbottom?' Snape said in his cold, sneering voice. 'Ten points fom Gryffindor. Release Longbottom, Potter, or it will be detention. Inside, all of you.'** He stood back from the door to watch them all file in.

The golden trio **took their usual seats at the back of the class ... The class around them was whispering about what** Longbottom **had just done, but when Snape closed the dungeon door with an echoing bang, everybody immediately fell silent.**

' **You will notice' said Snape, in his low, sneering voice, 'that we have a guest with us today.'**

 **He gestured towards the dim corner of the dungeon** where **Professor Umbridge** sat **, clipboard on her knee.** Snape caught the brat's eyes in passing and clearly picked up that he **and Umbridge** were **the two teachers** Potter **hated most** and it would be **hard to decide which one he wanted to triumph over the other.** _Only Potter could think so vacuously,_ Snape mentally sneered.

' **We are continuing with our Strengthening Solution today. You will find your mixtures as you left them last lesson; if correctly made they should have matured well over the weekend – instructions – ' he waved his wand again '- on the board. Carry on.'**

Snape stood at the podium overseeing that each student set up their equipment correctly and only took their own cauldron from the storage area. Once done, he patrolled the aisles quietly checking each potion as he passed.

 **Professor Umbridge spent the first half hour of the lesson making notes in her corner,** then she **got to her feet** and **strode between two lines of desks towards Snape, who was bending over Dean Thomas's cauldron** adding a shred of knotweed to it render it inert as it was on the cusp of combusting, having already turned orange and now verging on the lethal yellow **.**

' **Well, the class seem fairly advanced for their level,' she said briskly to Snape's back. 'Though I would question whether it is advisable to teach them a potion like the Strengthening Solution. I think the Ministry would prefer it if that was removed from the syllabus.'**

 **Snape straightened up slowly and turned to look at her** about to upbraid her for interrupting him at such a critical moment when her extraordinarily idiotic statement registered in his brain. This was not a discussion to be had in front of students, but then she spoke again.

' **Now ... how long have you teaching at Hogwarts?' she asked, her quill poised over her clipboard.**

' **Fourteen years,' Snape replied.** He schooled his **expression** to hide his derision from her **.** Snape could hear Potter's potion as **it hissed menacingly** and he was fairly sure that its colour would no longer be turquoise, but its smell told him it was not combustible – yet.

' **You applied first for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?' Professor Umbridge asked Snape.**

' **Yes,' said Snape quietly.**

' **But you were unsuccessful?'** Umbridge simpered.

 **Snape's lip curled** in disdain **.**

' **Obviously.'**

**Professor Umbridge scribbled on her clipboard.**

' **And you applied regularly for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post since you first joined the school, I believe?'** ' **Yes,' said Snape quietly, barely moving his lips. He looked very angry.** Was she seriously implying that she was in some way – any way – more qualified than he so that she obtained the post this year?

' **Do you have any idea why Dumbledore has consistently refused to appoint you?' asked Umbridge.** In front of his class! The woman was shameless.

' **I suggest you ask him,' said Snape jerkily** but toying with the idea of telling her that Dumbledore feared Snape was a Dark wizard of the worst order who would put her under the Cruciatus curse, just for the hell of it, and was therefore not allowed near the post. It might be amusing, but it was too near the truth of what Dumbledore thought of him to be amusing to Snape.

' **Oh, I shall,' said Professor Umbridge, with a sweet smile.**

' **I suppose this is relevant?' Snape asked, his black eyes narrowed** wondering why this enquiry was interesting to her or where it was leading **.**

' **Oh yes,' said Professor Umbridge, 'yes, the Ministry wants a thorough understanding of teachers' – er – backgrounds.'** There it was then. Snape now understood. Fudge knew that Snape had been a Death Eater, but he would also remember that Snape had tried to convince him of the return of the Dark Lord. No doubt, as soon as Umbridge revealed he had not been inspected, Fudge would have wanted to remedy that. To Fudge, Snape was – in more ways than one – a marked man.

 **She turned away, walked over to Pansy Parkinson and began questioning her about the lessons. Snape looked round at** Potter **and their eyes met for a second** and Snape knew he had been listening avidly **.** His **potion was now congealing foully and giving off a strong smell of burned rubber** and on the verge of becoming yellow **.**

' **No marks again, then, Potter,' said Snape maliciously, emptying Harry's cauldron with a wave of his wand. 'You will write me an essay on the correct composition of this potion, indicating how and why you went wrong, to be handed in next lesson, do you understand?'** Was he being harsh? He knew Lupin would say he was. No, Snape would not agree: this was a useful potion that any competent wizard should be able to make, but Potter had merely succeeded in almost making a weapons-grade explosive with it through his carelessness. Well, perhaps this would teach the boy a badly needed lesson about paying attention to a dangerous potion rather than eavesdropping.

"Is Mr Potter a good Potions student?" Umbridge asked him quietly as he moved away.

Snape stopped short. He would usually delight in bemoaning the shortcomings of Potter, so woefully inept at Potions. How could Lily have been his mother, he often wondered. But the proof was there. There, in Potter's eyes.

He turned to Umbridge. He loathed her. Did he loathe her as much or more than Potter? He knew the woman and the man she purportedly represented undermined Potter for maintaining that the Dark Lord had returned. He inwardly smiled to recall Potter's own thoughts earlier: **It was hard to decide which one he wanted to triumph over the other.**

"He is ... average." Snape's eyes glittered as he spoke. It was the best he could do. Lupin would not be proud, but some things went too deep.

"I see," Umbridge said, clearly unhappy that the verdict was not more caustic, but Snape would not give her or Fudge that satisfaction.

"Now," Snape said quietly, "I must continue to oversee these potions, if you'll excuse me." Snape turned abruptly to continue his patrol of the aisles, as Umbridge emitted a high sigh and turned to speak to Malfoy and Goyle and proceeded to interview most of the Slytherin students throughout the remainder of the lesson, but no Gryffindors.

Once the lesson was over, and the students had left, Umbridge joined Snape at his desk as he was racking the students' potions flasks.

" _Hem hem_ ," she coughed in that manner that grated on his nerves to get his attention. He did not turn to face her. "I think we need to reassess the curriculum to ensure Potions are taught in a risk-free environment – to manage and minimise the risk to the students," Umbridge stated airily, jotting notes on her clipboard.

"Brewing potions is not a risk-free activity, Professor Umbridge," Snape drawled. "That is why one must be vigilant as the students learn."

"Oh, you misunderstand me, Professor Snape," Umbridge said brightly. "We need to consider changing it totally. I think - just theory rather than any practical lessons at all would do the trick," Umbridge said, her smile fixed as Snape glared at her in disbelief.

"Surely education is about acquiring skills and knowledge, not just examination technique and paper qualifications," Snape retorted.

"Is it, Professor Snape? I wonder." He had suspected the woman was conniving for some currently unknown purpose, but he did not understand what kind of mind would seek disempower wizardkind in this manner. He breathed in very deeply indeed and pinched the bridge of his nose and slowly turned to face Umbridge, drawing himself to his full height as he looked down his nose at her.

"Only through constant and applied practice can anyone hope to become even _remotely_ competent in Potions," he instructed her silkily. "One needs to become adept at the _art_ of potion-making. That art encompasses not only motor skills of chopping, shredding, mashing and other technical skills, honed to a fine level, and not only calculation, weighing and measurement skills, but also, and this is imperative, the subtle and heightened senses attuned to each and every potion and assessing that potion from its first nascent mix through the brewing and sometimes fermentation processes – learning to tell when a potion could turn or curdle or combust ... in essence ... to intuit it. Madam, no amount of theory will equip a person for this. You will turn out adults of negligible skill." He looked into the ugly, upturned face, with its fixed, false smile and the dull bulbous eyes and knew she had understood nothing.

"All the Ministry requires, Professor Snape, is that the students pass their exams. We need to achieve this in the least dangerous and most efficient manner. Thank you for your co-operation." Her tone brooked no further discussion and Snape was not prepared to waste his time on her breath-taking ignorance. He saw her out of his classroom, barely containing the urge to transfigure her into the toad she so resembled and made his way to the Great Hall for lunch, his face a mask of fury. Minerva fell into step with him as he joined her in the corridor.

"Good inspection then, Severus?" Minerva said wryly.

"Of all the ill-conceived ... moronic ... half-baked notions I have ever heard ..." Snape muttered savagely.

"Oh, I'm sure I can imagine," Minerva smiled. "She'd like to replace mice, rats and birds in my Transfiguration lessons for NEWT experimentation with – I believe her phrase was – "almost sentient" creatures –Centaurs, Merpeople and Werewolves."

Snape felt his eyes become just too wide as he stopped in his steps, and stared after Minerva as she continued towards the Great Hall.

 

oooOOOooo

When he got back to his quarters after a long day and dinner in the Great Hall, he found a charmed note waiting for him. It was from Lupin.

 _My darling Severus,_  
Meet me at the flat if you can. I need to know how you are.  
My love,  
Remus.

Snape smiled. He wondered how Lupin's heart-to-heart with Black had gone. Suddenly, his irritation with Umbridge seemed to pale in comparison. He left for the Apparition point.

 

oooOOOooo

Snape arrived at the flat first and made tea whilst he waited for Lupin. Lupin arrived shortly after. He still looked vexed, but not quite as badly as he did when Snape left him and Black this morning. Lupin drew him into a hug but Snape took a sharp intake of breath as Lupin pressed the small of Snape's back. Lupin pulled his hands away fast, looking at Snape enquiringly.

"What's wrong?" he demanded gently.

"I did not really have time this morning," Snape started, and felt himself blush slightly at the fib, "to apply bruise salves ..." then he saw the dawning understanding on Lupin's face.

"Show me," Lupin whispered as he backed away a few steps. "Show me what I did."

Snape mentally cursed himself for not schooling his reactions better. He did not want Lupin to feel guilty. Not at all.

"It's nothing really, Remus," Snape said, but knowing from the look on Lupin's face that it was pointless to protest; he would not be deflected. Sighing heavily, Snape pulled his shirt over his head.

Lupin looked at Snape's body in horror. Snape had not really looked since he had returned to Hogwarts in the morning. He knew there were many bites on his body. He looked down, and there were also many deep finger bruises and probably others that he could not see but he could certainly feel. "Oh Severus. I'm so sorry." Lupin's face was wretched as he took in the explosions of colour that adorned Snape's body. "Let me put salve on them." Snape Summoned his Bruise Salve and handed it to Lupin.

Lupin sat on the floor, cross-legged, and held out his hand so that Snape knelt before him and Lupin applied the salve to his chest, stomach and sides and then he moved to sit behind Snape and Snape heard Lupin hiss in disgust.

"What is it?" Snape asked.

"There are huge bruises across your back. How did I do this to you?" Lupin's voice was still quiet.

Snape remembered well. Lupin had taken him first against the chest of drawers in his bedroom. He was pretty sure the bruises would match the hard edges of most of the wooden furniture in there. He remembered it had been painful to begin with, but the pain had subsided as Lupin had become more demanding and Snape had lost himself to the rhythm of it. He remembered his orgasms had been astounding. How did he tell Lupin these things? He couldn't bear the self-loathing that engulfed Lupin sometimes, when he, Snape, derived so much pleasure from the same acts that made Lupin despair of his humanity.

"We were vigorous," Snape said. "You _know_ me, Remus. I can take solace from your ... ah ... demands. It showed me I was the object of your passion." He twisted around so he could catch Lupin's lips lightly with his own and looked into those eyes that he loved so dearly. "That is what it showed me and you defended me from my enemy. I was completely yours – I wanted to be completely yours. I adored it all." He felt himself flush with the admission and turned to the front again.

Lupin rubbed his face into Snape's neck almost groaning. "I was so lost in the red mist of rage yesterday, I didn't realise how much I was hurting you. I started to recall things as the day went on today and that's why I so wanted to see you. But, oh Severus, I had no idea ..." His voice fell away. "I do not deserve you, Severus," he said, almost inaudibly.

"I think we deserve each other," Snape said gently. Lupin smiled at him weakly, then carried on applying the salve to more of Snape's body than Snape had realised as he told Lupin of Umbridge's planned changes to the syllabus, trying to keep the conversation light until Lupin's mood lifted and he began to join the discussion.

"If I didn't know better, I would have said that woman was a Death Eater with her pureblood prejudices," Snape said. "But Death Eaters believe in magical ability and skill. She'll ensure the students will be incompetent at Defence, and, if she gets her way, we'll have a generation barely able to account for themselves magically at all. That certainly was never the Dark Lord's aim. This is pure Ministry idiocy – "risk-free" indeed!" Snape spat.

"There are many witches and wizards who share Voldemort's prejudices and even his goals, but don't take that final step." Lupin said as he shifted, so he was sitting in front of Snape once more. "I understand more than I ever did before why you hate Sirius and that you will never forgive him. But, we have enough enemies. Real ones. Ones that would wipe everything we stand for from the face of this earth and grind us to dust." He kissed Snape's neck lightly. "I wish you two would understand that enemies are really not what you are. You do not have to get on to be allies. For my sake, I wish you could be."

"I'm sorry Remus. I wish it didn't hurt you. I cannot see our ever getting on – and last night – well, let's say, it was no surprise to me he should act like a pureblood Slytherin. It's in his blood." He cupped his hand over Lupin's as Lupin winced at the recollection.

"Never ... I never could have conceived he would do such a thing – to anyone." Lupin's shoulders slumped again. "It was a hard talk we had today, but we didn't really achieve anything."

"Do you want to tell me?" Snape asked, although he knew he probably didn't want to hear, but, considering Black's behaviour, he suspected he was far more resilient than Lupin, whose eyes were haunted as he looked to Snape for support.

"I think I'd prefer to show you. It may help me understand it," Lupin said.

Snape nodded, and stretched his legs out either side of Lupin's body and Lupin looped his own legs over his as Snape held Lupin's chin and pointed his wand as they locked eyes.

_Legilimens._

Lupin's mind. His retreat of calm and love. But he could feel the underlying torment creating eddies of disquiet in this most beloved and pacific place.

"Show me," Snape thought gently.

_Snape swept out of the kitchen to the dining room Floo, and the two men sat in uncomfortable silence until they heard the fire flare and subside. Lupin went to get more tea and topped up Black's coffee and sat and stared at him._

" _Well," Lupin snapped after some time had passed. "Anything you want to say to me?"_

" _Moony, I ... I ..." Snape saw that Black trembled, undoubtedly due to lack of sleep and the bottle of Firewhiskey to himself. Words seemed to fail him._

" _How is it," Lupin stood abruptly, his chair screeching across the flags, and Snape could tell his temper was rising, "that you appeal to me as Moony, but you constantly insult the wolf. What is the matter with you, Sirius?" Lupin demanded._

_There was no doubt that Black looked devastated as he stared at his friend, with new eyes. Eyes that had seen his friend cast a maiming curse at him, to be blocked by none other than Snivellus. Snape was sure Black's world, already upside down after twelve years in Azkaban, had now turned inside out._

_Lupin moved behind his chair, resting his hands on the chair back, he leant on it and his head dropped. "This is the second time you tried to use my wolf to kill Severus," Lupin said softly, and then looked up and into Black's glassy, blood shot, grey eyes._

_Still Black was mute. It was a day of reckoning but he was befuddled with lack of sleep and booze._

" _I want you to think, Sirius, think what you tried to do!" Lupin's voice was rising. "You knew, you of all people knew, the territorial nature of the werewolf - that I would be driven to kill an unfaithful mate. How can I call you friend that you would try to push me into that?" Lupin let the question linger in the air, and then ploughed on. "Severus begged me not to kill you. Did you conveniently forget that part, Sirius? That I would driven to kill you too for trespassing on mine, on my territory?" Lupin had left the chair and advanced on Black and now stood leaning over him, almost nose to nose. "Did you think I would think –oh, it's all right – it's only Padfoot – he's my friend - why shouldn't he face fuck my life's mate under the Imperius curse?" he asked, his voice now quiet and deadly. Black flinched and looked away, blinking furiously. Snape wondered if Black understood his friend's horror at his actions. Did Black understand his own actions at all?_

" _I ask you this, Sirius. If you had not approved of Lily, would you have done the same thing to her?" Black's face snapped back, horror writ large on his features._

" _I thought not." Lupin's face looked infinitely sad, and his hands dropped to his side wearily and he sat down again and put his head in his hands._

_Black's face was a riot of conflicting emotions – the fear, the anger, the shame, the confusion – all warring in the man._

" _Moony ... Remus," Black's voice was hesitant and cracked, but he didn't pull his eyes away from Lupin. "I .. I ... could not believe you could be ..." disgust contorted Black's features "attracted to him." He quickly held up his hands as Lupin's head jerked up fiercely. "I truly believed that ... please listen. I thought he must have enchanted you. I mean ... it's Snivellus" Black spread his hands as it that were self-explanatory and his tone was disbelieving, as if this still must be some kind of prank, but his smile dropped away at the eyes of flint of his friend._

" _I am enchanted, Sirius, but not in the way you think," Lupin said._

" _I just can't imagine you and Sn .. Snape," Black said weakly._

" _Why would you need to imagine us anyway, Sirius? Have you always imagined me and my lovers? Did you imagine James and Lily together? Of course not! What is wrong with you?" Lupin cried, exasperated. "You don't like Severus – you never have. But he's not sharing your bed – he's sharing mine!"_

" _Don't, Remus! Don't..." Black shifted uncomfortably as if the imagery physically hurt him._

" _No, Sirius. You don't get to say 'don't'. You have no right to judge my relationship. Severus is my mate. We are bonded. You understand what both of those mean. How can you deny what we feel is real? How dare you deny it when magic has recognised our bond? Who are you to say 'don't'?" Lupin said, his volume decreasing, but his tone becoming more dangerous._

_Black shifted uncomfortably in his chair, dragged his hand through his dishevelled hair and he watched his own fingers knot as he held them on the table._

" _How ... when did you get together with him?" Black asked quietly, not lifting his eyes from his hands._

" _Severus, you mean?" Lupin said, insistently. Black nodded._

" _When I was teaching at Hogwarts. Before Christmas. I Claimed him the following Spring."_

_Black's utter confusion was evident and he stared at Lupin. "But ... but ... I don't understand. Why did he attack you at the Shrieking Shack then? Why didn't he take care of you? It was full moon. He should have taken care of you! It makes no sense."_

" _He was under a Dark curse. A Mind-Breaker curse. I'm not going to go into the detail of it. Suffice it to say, there's a long story to that and it's private to Severus and me. It had harsh consequences for both of us, but we forgave each other. That's all you need to know." Lupin's tone was firm and unyielding._

_Black was not satisfied and Snape didn't think he would be either under the circumstances. But the story was too long, too intricate._

" _So, then you went to Egypt. What happened then?" Black asked, trying to fit the timeframe._

" _We saw each other when we could. Gringotts facilitated werewolves and their mates at the full moon."_

_Black flinched once more, and Lupin huffed, agitated each time Black showed his distaste._

" _How ... I don't mean details, but how ... after all these years ... our history ... did you even become close?"_

" _Your history, not mine, Sirius," Lupin interjected. "I wanted to get to know Severus better as soon as I joined the staff, but he made it plain he had no time for me, but he made my Wolfsbane for me. Made it perfectly. Sirius, I fancied Severus almost from the moment I saw him again. It was he who wouldn't give me the time of day." Lupin allowed himself a small sour smile at Black's visible discomfort at this revelation that it was Lupin who felt the attraction first._

" _Fancy him ... but he's ..."_

" _Stop it Sirius, I don't want to hear it," Lupin said wearily. "I will tell you if you will listen. If you won't, let's stop right now." Lupin looked away._

_Several minutes passed._

" _Go on," Black said quietly._

" _We needed to work together to lift a curse that had been placed on me by a coven of Death Eaters. It is a complicated tale but, in short, I was the object of this curse to try to ruin Albus because I was just a beast, you see. Expendable. Severus and I worked together to work the counter curse and, through it, we became close."_

That's a remarkably sanitised version of the truth, Remus

I think you'll agree that if I'd told him the truth, I don't think he could accept we genuinely felt for each other at all. He would grasp at the Thrall as proof he was right. I can't give him that type of ammunition against us, Severus.

" _And you felt so deeply for him ..." Black started, but was interrupted:_

" _For Severus," Lupin insisted._

" _Yes," Black bit out impatiently, "you Claimed him."_

" _I have never felt more strongly in my life. We bonded at New Year. Albus was our Bonder. I have never been so in love." Lupin's face was earnest, willing Black to understand._

_Black's face visibly drained and he stared at his empty coffee mug intently._

" _Do you pale because you are disgusted with me or because you are disgusted with yourself?" Lupin's quiet, devastating voice asked the man with haunted slate grey eyes that searched for truth in the bottom of his coffee cup._

_Black's head snapped up. "Of course, I'm not disgusted with you, Moony," he said softly. He Summoned a new bottle of Firewhiskey from the sideboard and poured himself a large glass as Lupin shook his head in disbelief._

" _Y'know, James and I used to talk about when and if you'd ever ... get wed. We often wondered whether it would be a man or a woman. We weren't sure at the time, y'see." Black's face brightened with the memories. "We always hoped you would find someone to love you ... someone who would see past your ... furry problem." Black knocked back the glass in one and drew a sharp breath over his teeth and poured another. He proffered the bottle to Lupin._

" _At 11 in the morning? I don't think so, and neither should you," he said quietly._

_Black barked a laugh and downed another and poured again. "What do I need to stay sober for? All the important cleaning work I do for the Order?" Black snorted, and downed the glass. "Imagine what James would think of you shacking up with Snivelly." Black sniggered as he spoke._

_Lupin jumped from his chair and grabbed the bottle and threw it so it smashed against the wall and then wheeled on Black, whose reactions were now sluggish from his sudden and dramatic intake of alcohol._

" _You just needed to top up really, didn't you, Sirius!" he yelled, grabbing Black's collar in his fists and dragging him from his chair. Black did no more than laugh, a drunken, hopeless laugh, as Lupin held him up as if he were a rag doll. Lupin released his collar in disgust and turned away, and Black fell back into his chair._

" _Surprised you don't see the humour, Moons. I mean ... it's Snivellus. You married Snivellus! Moony Lupin married Snivellus Snape. Marauder werewolf married Death Eater. Really? You don't see the humour in it?" Black persisted childishly._

" _Really, Sirius," Lupin said quietly, his tone sad. "There is no humour in it, not the type you're taking." Lupin stood, and Black quickly stood, and swayed drunkenly, reaching out to grasp Lupin's shoulder, but Lupin shrugged him away._

" _Where are you going, Moons?" Black croaked, as he sat down heavily again. "Don't go."_

" _I'm going for a walk, Sirius. I suggest you go to bed, then have a bath. When you're sober, perhaps we'll try to talk again ..." He looked disconsolately at the slumped figure in the chair "... if there's any point."_

Feeling the intense sadness of Lupin at this moment, Snape slipped gently out of Lupin's mind and kissed him gently then pressed his forehead against Lupin's.

"What happened then?"

"I had some research for Gringotts so I worked in the library. I didn't see him until later this afternoon. He was washed and dressed and trying to act as if nothing happened. He's due to speak to Harry tonight, so he's happier."

"Does he understand that he can tell no-one? Certainly not Potter," Snape said urgently. If Potter knew, he may was well send an owl to the Dark Lord himself with illuminated lettering on the parchment announcing his nuptials. The boy's mind was an open book.

"Yes, he does. He said that at least he won't have to start being nice to you at Order meetings."

"Merlin forfend it should ever be otherwise," Snape muttered. "Even if it had not gone so badly last night, Black should not change his attitude to me. It would arouse suspicions."

"You can say I told you so if you want," Lupin said, with a defeated air. Snape shook his head.

"Perhaps, you did not understand the depth of our enmity because you are too gentle to feel that kind of hatred." Snape wrapped his arms around Lupin and then pulled away again to look at him. "I understand Black. I do myself no credit in admitting this. I understand that just because he was Sorted into Gryffindor does not mean he could shed a whole heritage and upbringing that was totally pureblood Slytherin. You've seen his family home. You know what kind of wizards and witches he came from. The Slytherin way is to use whatever method you need to get your way, it doesn't need to be direct. Sexual violence and manipulation? Just look at Malfoy and Lestrange. They're born and bred to it. Their entitlement, their right, their privilege – their sport. That a Black family member should resort to it does not surprise me at all."

"It horrifies me, Severus," Lupin said. Snape squeezed Lupin's hand.

"He wasn't thinking of you. Not really. He only thought of how badly he thinks of me and that I could not possibly legitimately be loved by you. I have always been, since he coined that juvenile name for me on the Hogwarts Express on our very first day of school – and I will always be - worthless in Black's eyes."

"No, never worthless ..." Lupin sighed. Snape wrapped his arms around Lupin again.

"Remus, believe me, if I had a sister, and I found out she had secretly married Black, I would be furious too."

"Would you have tried to rape her husband?" Lupin said, disbelievingly.

"Of course not. But that was never about sex, was it?" Snape challenged.

"No, it was about murder," Lupin responded, his voice hollow.

"Exactly so, and I might well have killed Black for marrying my hypothetical sister. But I would have enough spine to do it myself," Snape jibed contemptuously.

"That's the hardest part," Lupin whispered. "That he tried to manipulate me – the drives of the wolf that he knows I cannot help - to murder my own husband ... to destroy us both."

"One day, you'll have to tell me how he justified his first attempt to weaponise you when that would have resulted in your destruction if you'd bitten me, and we'll see if that fits ..." Snape sneered, but instantly regretted it, as soon as he felt Lupin's chest hitch in his arms.

"Oh Severus!" It was a groan of anguish, as Lupin wrapped his arms tightly around Snape's waist, and it pulled at Snape's heart and he knew he could never feel any triumph over this loss that Lupin now felt. "I don't think I can ever forgive him. Not again."

"I'm sure you'll find a way. When he finally sees past me, and accepts how he's wronged you, he'll come crawling and beg your forgiveness. And somehow, Merlin knows how, you'll find the good in him as you always do, if I know you," Snape said quietly and confidently.

"Will you hate me for it?" Lupin asked. Snape kissed him gently. W _here would I be without your forgiveness?_ Snape thought.

"Remus, I bonded with you for it." 

* * *


	55. Secret Missions

"Assigning blame for it is really neither here nor there, is it, Albus? Your Memory Charm failed. Remus knew it would, and he told you so, but, oh no, blasé as usual, you know better! The point is: the mutt knows," Snape said, leaning on his hands on the Headmaster's desk.

"There's no need for those types of juvenile insults, Severus."

"Please Albus!" Snape shouted with disgust. "I listen to a stream of insults from Black at every Order meeting. In fact, I don't believe he has ever called me by my name. Do not dare tell me not to call him names. Mutt he is because he behaved like a dog, worse than a dog in fact! Now, you will need to convince him of the need to maintain secrecy, just as you insisted to us we could not live together for the same reason. I don't need him blurting out the truth when he's indiscriminately insulting me. If you're not concerned about protecting me, perhaps you should recall it endangers Remus as well."

"Severus, I understand that you must be angry, but I would ask you to calm down please. No-one could have foreseen Sirius would take your relationship with Remus this way," Dumbledore said, holding out his hands placatingly.

"And yet, _I_ knew he would. Am I no-one, Albus?" Snape stood, his eyes blazing with injury.

"You foresaw he would assault you like that?" Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

"Not exactly like that no. But, that said, it was no surprise he reacted violently. That I did expect. You reap what you sow, Albus. The first time Black tried to get Remus to kill me, you gave him detention. I would _suggest_ that the punishment did not fit the crime then, and, as such, the lesson was not learnt," Snape sneered.

"Severus, please. Back then, I was trying to keep Remus safe – give him a life. None of it was his fault," Dumbledore said gently, trying to defuse Snape's temper.

"I know now none of it was, but I fail to see how that stopped you punishing Black." Dumbledore made to answer, but Snape cut him off. "No! Revising history does not assist us now. For whatever twisted reasons Black may have, he has reacted very badly to it, and nearly maddened Remus into killing me. And it's clear to anyone with eyes that he's drinking dangerous amounts of alcohol ..."

"As you would know ..." Dumbledore commented.

"Yes, yes, I do know - so give me enough credit to spot the danger before it happens!" Snape barked, angrier still that Dumbledore had referred to Snape's own bouts of maudlin drunkenness from his not-so-distant past before Lupin, rather than dealing with the issue at hand. "So, not only did he attack me, are you aware he attacked Remus before then? Actually blacked his eye because he would not tell Black what he and I were doing?"

"No," Dumbledore murmured, "no, I didn't know that." Dumbledore sighed. "In trying to keep Sirius safe, I'm afraid I am harming him. He needs a Mind Healer, Severus. Twelve years in Azkaban – one can only imagine what he's seen ... or been through ... " Dumbledore's fingers played through his white beard. "I know of no Mind Healer that will tend to Sirius without alerting the Ministry."

"The answer is clear, surely," Snape said emphatically. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in enquiry and Snape sighed heavily in exasperation.

"You need to catch Pettigrew and clear Black's name. He can then be sent to a Healer, run around duelling Death Eaters, I dare say, including myself, to his heart's content so he can feel _useful_ , and Remus won't have to spend all his spare time babysitting him."

Dumbledore's face was impassive. "Without compromising your cover, how do we do such a thing? Voldemort keeps Peter at his side, more out of mistrust, I dare say, than favouritism. If you find a way to convince the Ministry to raid Riddle Manor, I shall back you to the hilt."

 

* * *

Snape had not been looking forward to the Order meeting the next night, not that he ever anticipated them keenly. He sat next to Dumbledore, as always, but noted that, for the first time, Lupin sat on the opposite side of the table to him between Tonks and Moody, leaving Black at his usual place at the other end of the table, between Arthur and Bill Weasley. Lupin avoided Black's frequent looks in his direction, and Black was unusually quiet throughout the meeting except when Black reported that his Floo conversation with Potter as well as Potter's owl had been intercepted by Umbridge.

The meeting had become quite exercised about Umbridge monitoring the owl post and Floo network within Hogwarts. There could be no doubt that what Umbridge had started at Hogwarts could quickly be followed by Fudge for the general wizarding populace. As the arguments became more heated and the voices shouting louder to be heard over one another, Dumbledore's voice resonated across the cacophony of others: "Be quiet!" Then his voice lowered once more. "This is my greatest fear: that we fight amongst ourselves. It will be Voldemort's greatest achievement." The meeting fell silent and then gradually returned to consensus once more until the meeting finished.

Snape watched as Black, hunched and miserable, slipped away from the others – from Lupin who was talking with a group of most of the other members of the Order. Snape took his leave and strode purposefully up the hall as if to leave, but then side stepped to follow Black into the library.

Snape slipped soundlessly into the library after Black and made the room secure and advanced on the man silently and purposefully with his wand at the ready.

Black turned the instant he became aware of Snape and he reached for his wand, but Snape Disarmed him and Bound him, flinging him violently with a whipping motion of his arm, so he was flat against the wall, where he strained helplessly at his bonds as Snape warded the room for sound.

"Well now," Snape said silkily, savouring Black's incapacity, closing the gap between them slowly. "Mr. Black, scion of this ... ignoble house ... progeny of Dark wizards ... felon ... failed rapist ... but successful cleaner ... is there no end to your list of achievements?" Snape drew level with Black, his eyes glittering on meeting the slate eyes so full of hate. "You and I need to have a discussion."

"We have nothing to say to each other, Snivellus," Black spat.

"I stand corrected. I do not need to hear from you: that is true. But you will hear what I have to say." Snape's voice was measured and firm, his expression schooled to be unreadable. He had every intention of making Black uncomfortable, even fearful, but he was determined he would not let this man make him lose his temper, as he had so often done before.

"I know what you are," Black hissed venomously. "You may have fooled Remus, but you don't fool me."

"You know nothing about me, Black. You never have," Snape said dismissively.

"I know all about Dark wizards," Black replied, his chin up, as if daring Snape to contradict him, to claim he was not Dark.

"What was your behaviour last time we met, if not Dark?" Snape said quietly, his head tilted to him in enquiry.

"No," Black whispered in horrified denial.

"How do you account for it: using an Unforgivable curse to try to sexually assault me so your friend would kill me? Dark stuff indeed." A smirk played on Snape's mouth. "And now, Remus knows that his one remaining childhood friend, the one he was so overjoyed to find was _not_ a murderer, after all – oh the irony – in fact – is. Or would be, if he could just get his pet werewolf to do the job for him." Snape inclined his head to Black, his expression unpleasantly smug.

"You bastard!" Black spat, straining again at his bonds.

"Temper, temper," Snape said lightly. "Now then, Black. I have no intention of duelling with you. I need nothing from you. You've proved to Remus what you are – a viper through and through. You have destroyed your own golden Gryffindor image to your friend and now he knows the truth of you. But here's what we need to discuss. You cannot get past your hatred of me to see how you've broken his heart." Snape drew closer, his eyes narrowing, and his wand sparked as his voice became low and menacing, his speech deliberately slow, so Black would miss nothing. "Just a pet werewolf, I suppose, isn't he? Moony? Never a real friend: not like pureblood Potter. Not even like half-blood Pettigrew. Just a half-breed werewolf at the end of the day: not trusted by you to know the Secret Keeper fourteen years ago, but always useful as a weapon, but not a real friend."

"That's a lie!" Black yelled, fired by his hatred of Snape and tears of frustrated helplessness in his eyes. "He's my friend. He's clever and funny, and full of magic – a true wizard. You have no right to say he's not my friend – that I didn't trust him!"

"And yet you kept the change of Secret Keeper from him!" Snape said, still in silky but deliberately provocative tones. Yes, provocative: he needed Black to think; to think as Lupin must be thinking; to understand Lupin's confusion and pain - that was his mission in this talk.

"Yes, but they were hard times. No-one knew who to trust. Remus was running with the wolves ..." Black cried, almost pleading for his reasoning to be understood.

"And you didn't know where his allegiances lay ..." Snape added, his voice bland, leading Black on.

"Running with the wolves ... it changed him. You don't understand. He became someone else – so unlike Remus – harsh, bad-tempered, secretive ..."

"Perhaps, a young man in pain ... running with those from whom he had always striven to be different ... to prove he was not an animal ... and yet running with them because he was commanded to by the Order ..." Snape suggested, his eyes boring into Black's.

"I ... I ..." Black's body sagged. "I didn't think of it ... we didn't ... Merlin." Black whispered and his head dropped and then he raised it, his eyes screwed shut. He opened them and stared at Snape, his eyes haunted again. "We ... that is, I, never thought of it that way – what kind of toll his missions were taking on him. Oh Remus," he whispered to himself. "Everyone was under suspicion, they were such hard times ... oh." Black's voice faded away and he hung his head again.

"So, Remus found out about the change of Secret Keeper and the lack of trust that meant, and that the real traitor was alive. A nasty shock after twelve years mourning the people he thought were his friends, but forgiveness and blessings were bestowed between the two of you, and all was well," Snape said snidely. "All is well, that is, until Remus does something - with someone - that you hate. It is something Remus wants; something that makes him happy; something, if I say so myself, that is his heart's desire. But never mind what Remus wants – he's only a beast after all." Black was shaking his head, and kept repeating "no," increasingy desperately as Snape ploughed relentlessly on.

"You do not like it so you try to snatch it from him – to sully it first and provoke his wolf to then destroy it so you don't have to inconvenience yourself to accommodate it. After all, what's a werewolf's Claim in comparison with your discomfort in knowing Snivellus is the mate of your friend? What's a werewolf's conscience, bloodied with murder, worth as long as you are not incommoded into dealing with someone you dislike? You are an entitled pureblood after all – he's just your werewolf pet. Why should his needs and desires have parity with your own?"

"NO!" Black screamed at him, tears of anger coursing freely down his cheeks now. "That is not how I think of Remus! I've always protected Remus – always!" Black shouted, shaking with anger. " _I_ discovered he was a werewolf after being sick with worry when he'd go missing for days at a time and come back looking beaten! It was me! It was me that told the others – persuaded one of them not to tell his parents we shared a dormitory with a Dark creature! James and I came up with becoming animagi to be with him – to keep him company - to help him – to protect him from himself! That night in the Shrieking Shack - I wanted to scare you off asking about him. All the time – you never stopped nosing around. I know it was stupid and it nearly cost me his friendship then too! I didn't think! I ... I ... just didn't want you exposing him. I've always protected him!" Still, Black struggled with his bonds.

"It nearly cost me my life, Black," Snape sneered. "Did you not even consider that?"

Black stopped struggling and glared at Snape once more, a muscle jumping under one eye. "No," he said, sounding defeated. "I didn't. I had nightmares about it afterwards though." Snape made a soft noise of disbelief. Black's eyes shot back to him. "It doesn't matter if you don't believe me. Remus knew I was sorry. He made sure I was sorry. I thought he was upset that I could have exposed his condition, but no. You know Remus. It was the thought that you could've died or become a werewolf that tortured him. A boy he hardly knew. A bloody Slytherin." Black snorted, shaking his head with disbelief.

"Does House loyalty trump morality then, Black?" Snape enquired with derision.

"No! No!" Black snapped. "I made a mistake. It was a huge mistake – I know that."

"And yet ..." Snape said softly - triumphantly. "And yet, it was a mistake you were prepared to make again ..."

Black's desperate eyes stared at Snape's. "I was protecting him. I thought I was ... protecting him ... I thought ..." Black's eyes were casting wildly about himself.

"I had bewitched him? That he couldn't possibly love someone like me, perhaps?" Snape's voice was light, but saying these words to his enemy, knowing these were Black's thoughts, made hot anger flush his face.

"Yes," Black whispered, the sound no more than a wisp of air.

"Because he can't make his own decisions in love? He lacks the mental capacity to know what he desires, even if that is a Slytherin like me?"

"No! You're twisting what I'm saying, Snivelly. Just like a bloody Slytherin!" Black shouted.

"No, Black. What you're _saying_ is twisted – don't you see?" Snape returned. "You're saying he has no judgement; that he doesn't know what he wants. In every way, you talk about him like an inferior. I'll say it again – you believe he is your pet werewolf with needs subservient to your own."

"No, no, no, no!" Black whined, "I would never think of Remus like that. Never!" Black protested.

"Then prove it!" Snape snapped. "Beg for his forgiveness for what you tried to do to him! On your knees like the craven man you are, or on your hind legs, like the dog you are – I don't care which – just – do – it," Snape snarled, no more than an inch now separating their faces.

"And what do _you_ want from me?" Black sneered. "You want me on my knees as well? Is that the deal, Snivellus?" Snape's eyes flashed.

"Do not tar me with the same filthy brush as you, Black." He inhaled sharply to regain his composure. "I want nothing from you. But know this: there is no pureblood from Slytherin who demeaned me that I have not had my revenge upon, one way or another. I could certainly put my Cutting curse to good use on your miserable body." Snape dug his wand into the crotch of Black's trousers and bared his teeth. "Castration would be no more than an animal like you deserves," he spat. "That I do not do it is only because Remus would not wish me to harm you. I do not care what you think of me. Do the decent thing by Remus and I'll leave your balls intact." He glared at Black, watching his reaction, and then said softly and dangerously, "Think about what I've said and whether I'm really so far wide of the mark. I don't think I am. Do the decent thing by Remus and show him you respect him – because you owe it to him."

Snape stood back and sneered at the man with the tear-streaked face. Then he released the spells suddenly so Black fell heavily to the floor, and Snape swept out of the library without looking back.

 

* * *

The effect on Lupin of Black's attack on Snape had been profound. He was unhappy and withdrawn. Snape had got Dumbledore's permission to take Lupin to Cadr Idris for the full moon on the Friday following his talk with Black in the library and to get cover as Head of House for the weekend. Snape hoped that running in that place of ancient magic would bring some much needed peace to Lupin's troubled mind.

They Apparated to the field in mid-afternoon, and Snape himself felt a comfortable warmth spreading throughout him to see the farmhouse he hadn't seen for over a year and its joyful memories for him of his forgiveness and Claiming. He hoped Lupin felt the same, but this day was never the day to look for the best in Lupin as the drawing of the moon was felt by his body and soul. They settled in quietly as the day wore on but soon, the atmosphere changed, and Snape saw the change in Lupin. As soon as Lupin laid strong hands on his shoulders, Snape felt himself release to the wolf, his own submission total and keenly anticipated, as Lupin pulled him towards him, kissing him greedily as his hands grasped his body possessively. Heated pleasure welled up inside Snape in the mere anticipation of what was now to come.

oooOOOooo

Snape had opened the door, and the wolf paced by the open doorway, itching and almost scampering to run as Snape finished dressing against the October night.

"It's been a while, hasn't it Remus?" Snape said as he scratched his fingertips in the wolf's crest, finding himself excited almost beyond endurance. Tonight he would fly with the wolf. He would truly fly. The wolf trotted a few paces out the door and skipped around as it waited for Snape, its ears forward and alert.

_Fugere._

Snape stood on the threshold, his eyes bright with excitement as he concentrated on the incantation and lifted his arms and with two swoops of the invisible wings, he lifted at an arc and moved swiftly off, looking for the wolf, who barked excitedly and shot off towards the mountains. _Remus wants a race!_ Snape thought, excitement and amusement flaring inside him as he darted forward and flew above the wolf, watching the animal's muscles under its coat working in its haunches and shoulders as it set a blistering pace across the field and towards the woods near the trail of ascent. He found he could match the pace with his magical wings. It was exerting, but thrilling as he paced with the wolf as he tore up the mountainside, gaining the summit and leaping to try to catch Snape as he once had when Snape rode a broom.

Snape whooped and laughed as he dipped to tease the wolf into trying to catch him, not believing the physical freedom he felt, no longer reliant on the broom – flying with Lupin running, and teasing him in play. It was truly magical and he laughed at the freedom of it, as the wolf barked joyously below him.

The moon was nearly at its apex and Snape slowly descended, landing gracefully, and knelt to greet the wolf who leapt up to place its paws on Snape's shoulders.

"Foolish Remus," Snape laughed as the wolf pushed him to the ground, licked his face and barked joyfully before running to the stone and howling to the moon as Snape raised himself on one elbow to watch the wolf, adoring the animal, adoring the man within. Three times the wolf howled to the moon.

And a pack answered.

The wolf and Snape stilled as a dozen or more wolves answered Lupin's howling. Snape's wand was in his hand and he was on his feet in a second. The wolf was still and attentive, his snout nudging upwards as his nostrils dilated to find the scents on the air, his ears forward to pinpoint the noise, his hackles rising slowly. Snape moved towards him.

"Should we get back to the farmhouse? Are they near?" Snape said, looking around himself. Then he heard a small whining noise and turned quickly to look at the wolf and looked into his eyes.

 _They are all werewolves, Severus. No human mates. They are on the next lower summit._ The wolf gestured with his snout away from the route by which they'd come. _We should go. If they have no Wolfsbane, they'll be pure wolves and I'll be no match for them with a human mind. Come!_

Snape gaped at the wolf. Of course, he knew that Lupin kept his mind on Wolfsbane, but it simply had not occurred to him that Lupin would be able to speak to Snape's mind. _But of course he would!_ Snape's face broke into a seldom-seen broad grin, then recovered his equilibrium and stretched out to lift off. As he rose into the air, the wolf turned and burst into a run, turning once to check to see Snape flying above him as his legs stretched out and in as he tore down the scree of the mountainside and Snape flew above him, feeling the wind being engulfed in the swoop of his magical wings as he flew directly above his wolf, occasionally checking behind to see if any wolves followed until they reached the safety of the Fidelius.

They entered the farmhouse, and Snape flung himself into a chair, disrobing, as the wolf came to him and placed his head in Snape's lap, still panting, his tongue lolling out. Snape looked at the wolf's eyes – his lambent gold eyes.

 _You have beautiful eyes as a wolf. Have you ever seen yourself as the wolf?_ Snape held his hands around the wolf's mask and stroked his head gently.

 _It's never occurred to me, Severus._ Snape thought he could sense Lupin chuckle then the chuckle stopped. _I didn't know there was a pack here. I haven't seen that in any intelligence that's been gathered so far._

Feeling a churn of concern in his stomach, Snape asked: _Will you try to contact them?_

_I shouldn't squander the opportunity. They'll know I've been on the mountain: a lone wolf with a human mate._

_How will they know I'm your mate?_

_Scent._

_Oh._

Snape wrinkled his nose. It hadn't occurred to him the scent of their sex would be so obvious. But then, he wasn't a wolf. He Summoned a Butterbeer and glass from the cupboard.

"What do you want to drink, Remus?" he said out loud as he opened the bottle and looked to the wolf once more.

_I've heard some dogs like beer – shall we see if I like Butterbeer as a wolf too?_

Snape snorted and Summoned a bowl to pour some Butterbeer into, as he marvelled that he was sharing a Butterbeer and a conversation with a wolf in the sitting room.

oooOOOooo

They had lazed in bed for a good part of the morning. Lupin's mood had completely recovered. Snape didn't know if it was being here in this place of magic, or his peaceful transformation and reversion, their flight from the mountain or their companionable mind conversation through the small hours of the morning. It had certainly been eventful, and Lupin seemed happy and gentle once more. The only thing that had upset Snape to start with was when Snape started to kiss Lupin, wanting to make love to him but Lupin stopped him gently and looked at him seriously.

"Severus, listen to me and don't be offended." Lupin held Snape's hands. "If I'm to speak with the werewolves here, I can't let you make love to me." Snape had flushed uncomfortably at the perceived rejection, but Lupin rushed to kiss him. "I can't let them smell your sexual dominance. It wouldn't be accepted," Lupin explained.

"What of Jack and Guillaume? One of those had to be dominant." Snape asked, trying hard not to feel slighted.

"No, that's not what I meant. They were both male werewolves. They would have fought for dominance as wolves, then that would be set between them as men. As a werewolf, I can't let a wizard be dominant. The pack would attack me as an omega to serve a man." Lupin looked embarrassed as he told Snape this. "It's obviously not what I think or believe is right since we've been together, Severus," he said gently as he held Snape's hands, "and I don't run in a pack for it to matter that I enjoy very much my mate reversing roles on me," he smiled saucily provoking a crooked smile in return. "But, if I'm to try and talk to them, the position of omega would not help the conversation."

"What is an omega?" Snape asked.

"An outcast," Lupin explained as he snuggled down next to Snape once more. "Would it be such a hardship for me to make love to you instead this morning?" Lupin asked softly, starting to kiss him and run his fingers along his body.

Snape sighed as the soft lips seared his neck. "Not a bit of it," he murmured, stretching his neck to the side for more.

oooOOOooo

Finally, they had left their bed and showered. Snape had made a large breakfast for them as Lupin told him more of different packs he had been with, in the first wizarding war and his latest forays. They started to talk about how Lupin would approach this pack.

"I thought I'd let them find me. They know I'm here, after all. It looks less suspicious than my approaching them."

"What of Wolfsbane? Will they smell that on you? Will they do what the other pack did?" Snape demanded, remembering the beating Lupin took last time.

"They'll smell it, yes, but it's a chance I'll have to take. If they're the type of pack that becomes violent over Wolfsbane, they're probably beyond my reach anyway. We'll know soon – look."

Snape looked out of the large picture window. A ragged group of men and women, whose movements were slow and deliberate were beyond the perimeter of the Fidelius, unable to see the farmhouse, but clearly scenting the trail of the lone werewolf and his human mate and trying to pick it up.

"It's an opportunity," Lupin said gamely, jumping up and Summoning his cloak, robe and boots. "You could come with me. They know I have a mate, after all. What do you think?"

Snape was stunned. It hadn't occurred to him to go with Lupin to meet feral werewolves. Then again, perhaps it would help them, giving him an insight to what feral werewolves were like so he could help Lupin when his missions became difficult for him. Snape agreed and Summoned his own outdoor clothes.

"We'll need to disguise you, in case Greyback comes calling later. We know he's on the lookout for me – we don't want to give him you by default. He's not looking for a mated couple, so this might be quite useful," Lupin said, smiling brightly. "Now then, a name for you." Lupin thought for a while. "I will call you ... Seth," Lupin said, smiling in satisfaction. "Never make a lie too large." He nodded his head for emphasis.

"My name with a lisp?" Snape drawled, hiking one eyebrow.

"Who on this earth would call you Sev?" Lupin asked, chuckling.

"No-one," Snape said dangerously, "may call me Sev." _Anymore,_ he added to himself sadly.

Lupin laughed again. "Good. I like your full name. It's ... rather sensual," Lupin said and kissed Snape's cheek. "And, unlike mine, it doesn't rhyme with ..."

"That's quite enough," Snape cut in. "Now - a surname perhaps?"

"Yes. One that's easy for me to remember." Snape stood, his arms folded as Lupin lifted his head, smiling. "Moore. Yes, that's good. I'll remember it, you see. It was my mother's maiden name. So, Seth Moore, mate of a werewolf, let's give you a new face ..."

"Do not - maraud - my features," Snape instructed Lupin as he concentrated on Snape's face intently.

"I think just those features that identify you so singularly should Greyback follow and get a description of you."

"You mean my nose – just say it - my nose," Snape huffed, and Lupin kissed the tip of his nose. Then he held Snape's chin gently in the palm of his left hand as he pointed his wand to Snape's face and cast. Snape blinked as he felt his features undulate mildly and settle. He shivered. He never did like transfiguring himself. He decided not to look in a mirror, although he could see his hair was longer and now a wavy, sandy blonde. Probably best not to see what Lupin would prefer him to look like, Snape decided.

"Just your eyes, nose and hair, Severus. Oh, and that bloody robe." Lupin cast down at the black robe and the colour changed to brown.

"I don't care for brown at all, Remus," Snape said petulantly, looking down at his robe.

"It's burnt umber." Lupin stood, arms folded, admiring his work.

"Burnt umber indeed, Remus." Snape rolled his eyes.

"How about periwinkle then?" Lupin quipped, with eyebrows raised.

"Burnt umber is perfect," Snape retracted quickly.

Lupin concentrated on Snape's robes "They're too fine. You're the mate of a down and out, nomadic werewolf, you need to look poorer." He cast again, and Snape's robe became shabby and patched, like Lupin's own. It twisted Snape's stomach. Why were Lupin's clothes still so shabby? He hadn't thought about it for a long time. Well, they suited his undercover work, but what about otherwise? Now he thought about it, the only good clothes he'd ever seen Lupin in were the ones he'd given him for Christmas.

"So, what's your day job, Mr Moore?" Lupin asked, as he pulled on his own robe and tightened its belt. "Something human but peripatetic."

"Tutor? Would that work? Not too large a lie," Snape shrugged. They continued to get ready as Lupin talked.

"Perfect. If anyone asks, although it's unlikely, you have a current position with a family in ... um ... Barmouth. That's relatively nearby. Obviously, the family's name is confidential. Right then." Lupin stood and held out a hand. "Come, Severus ... Seth," he corrected himself as he grasped Snape's hand.

They Apparated to the edge of the ancient woods that skirted the north side of the mountain so they were still ahead of pack and together they made for the clearing there. Lupin pulled a tiny rucksack from his robe and enlarged it and then, settling down, Lupin made a small encampment to make it seem as if they had rested there for a couple of days. Snape lit a fire when Lupin produced a small camp kettle from the rucksack and boiled some water from a nearby stream to make some tea. Snape investigated the rucksack, smiling at the undetectable extension charm that masked the full camping outfit within.

Then they waited, sitting around the fire, hands wrapped around tin mugs and talking, until they heard the crack of twigs signifying they were no longer alone.

 

* * *


	56. The Watchers

Twigs cracked behind them. Snape's hand twitched to his wand, but Lupin held his own hand over his in a calming gesture.

_Keep calm. Follow my lead. Don't – let them provoke you. You're a wizard – they may try._

Snape nodded and, as Lupin stood slowly, so did he, taking note where the pack all were and that, when they emerged, they had Lupin and Snape surrounded. Snape took it all in. Twenty people: thirteen men, seven women. Some were wandless. Their ages appeared to range from late teens to, he guessed, no older than one man in his sixties. Perhaps he was younger and hadn't worn well. Snape wasn't sure when he thought about how prematurely Lupin had aged.

Snape noted Lupin. He was not fully relaxed but neither was he taking an aggressive stance. He was tense, watching the oldest man who had come furthest forward. _The Alpha?_ Snape wondered. Lupin's hand was still outstretched to keep Snape behind him. In other situations, Snape would be affronted, but he would have to defer to Lupin's knowledge of lycanthropic etiquette.

The older man walked softly, barely making any noise on the clearing floor. He had a wand that he had strapped to his leg. Like Lupin, he had not drawn it. His swarthy, weathered face had some deep scars. The type that didn't heal. Cursed scars. His hair was full, shaggy to his shoulders and as white as snow, with bushy sideburns down his jaw. His clothes were shabby, like Lupin's, but unlike Lupin, this man was unkempt and filthy. All of them were, with dirt ingrained in their skin.

"What you doin' here boy?" the man spoke, his voice deep and lilting.

"Passing through," Lupin replied casually. "Not hanging around."

"You're medicated," the man observed, with a faint sniff. Snape stiffened, but Lupin remained still and nodded.

"My mate is not wolfkind," Lupin said softly.

"We know," the man sneered. "How'd a Were come to have a human mate?" Snape was becoming more offended that the conversation was about him, but he could sense that Lupin was relaxing. Perhaps, Lupin saw this interest as a positive sign.

"Met at school. Known each other a long time. Been mated for two years now," Lupin replied.

Snape noted the clipped manner in which both men spoke and how quickly Lupin had fallen into it and the economy of any movement whatsoever.

"School, eh?" The man laughed gruffly. "Went to school myself for a while. That where they taught you to scrub the smell of wolf off you?" The whole pack laughed at this. Lupin smiled his small smile.

"My mate is not wolfkind," Lupin repeated firmly. Snape found it surprising that this seemed to chase the laughter away. But, of course, mating to a werewolf was as important as breathing: he would do what was required to keep his mate. The pack sobered up and looked back to the man.

"Will you breed from him? Looks too narrow for breedin'." The man looked at Snape appraisingly. Snape very much wanted to hex the man's balls off.

"No cub without a pack," Lupin said. "No safety."

The man nodded in agreement. "Can't bring up a cub as a lone wolf. That's not our way." The man looked around himself at the pack, exchanging some form of unspoken agreement.

"Want to run with us a while?" he offered. "See if it fits?"

"For a while," Lupin said. "See if it fits."

"Your mate?" The man nodded towards Snape. "Does he run with you?"

Lupin shook his head. "Has a job. Barmouth. Can't be together all the time."

"Hard on a Were, that is," the man opined, appraising Snape once more.

Lupin nodded. "Yes, it's hard."

The man walked forward now until he stood before Lupin. Lupin stood straighter than before, but still not aggressively, but confidently.

"Name's Idris."

"Like the mountain?"

"Named for her."

Lupin nodded. "Remus Lupin."

"And your mate?"

"Seth Moore."

Idris nodded. "Had a surname once when I had a family. They put me out of the family when I was bitten. Joined this pack then. My family now." His face betrayed no emotion as he stated this.

Lupin nodded once more.

"Turned or born?"

"Turned at five," Lupin replied and Idris drew a sharp breath through his teeth. "You?"

"Fifteen," Idris replied. Snape wondered what had happened to those werewolves who had taken that fifteen year old in. Long gone, he supposed.

"Still hard though," Lupin commented.

"Aye." Idris nodded and then beckoned the others and, as they moved forward, the two men sat at Lupin's fire facing each other. Lupin grasped Snape's hand and Snape sat next to Lupin, as Lupin placed one arm possessively over Snape's shoulder.

One of the men brought forward a large back pack and produced a large kettle and, as if an unspoken cue, the members of the pack started busying themselves setting up a makeshift camp.

"Permanent camp's back over the mountain range, see," Idris said. "But we come up here for the full moon."

"How long have you been coming here?"

"Only since the summer. Used to run up Snowdon but ..." Idris shook his shaggy head, "we were being watched. Didn't care for it."

"Who was watching you?" Lupin asked carefully. Snape thought they both knew who.

Idris narrowed his eyes. "How old are you, boy?"

"Thirty five."

"You'll remember the wizards' first war then?"

Lupin nodded.

"Then you'll know who wants to recruit us." His voice deepened. "We don't say his name." Idris's dark eyes glittered with contempt. "Sends his blood thirsty Were to recruit the packs. Did the same last time. No respecter of rank or mates that Were. Do you know of him and his pack?"

"Greyback?" Lupin asked.

"Aye." Idris nodded, never taking his eyes from Lupin.

"Turned me," Lupin said, his face impassive.

"Is that right?" Idris narrowed his eyes. "When you were five?"

Lupin nodded. "My father offended him. The bite was his punishment."

Snape noted a look of mild surprise on Idris's face. He suspected that was quite unusual for Idris.

"Did your family put you out?" Idris asked.

"No."

Idris nodded, his mouth becoming thin. "And you went to school, just the same?"

"Albus Dumbledore," Lupin said, as if that explained all.

"The Transfiguration Master? Aye, I remember him. He tried to find me after I was bitten. I was in Hufflepuff at Hogwarts." The dark eyes became distant. "For four years anyway." Snape couldn't say why the thought of this gruff werewolf being a Hufflepuff at Hogwarts upset him, but it did. If he guessed right about the man's age, who would he know that might have attended school with him? Who taught at that time? So Dumbledore was a teacher at the time, then Dippet would have been Headmaster. Binns might even have been alive. Not Minerva or Pomona, not even Flitwick. Something nagged in Snape's mind and he wondered – was it possible that – surely – could Idris have been at Hogwarts with the Dark Lord?

"How did you know he looked for you?" Lupin asked quietly.

"Heard it about. News travels when the wolves run," Idris said. Lupin nodded.

"Did you know Dumbledore became Headmaster of Hogwarts after Dippet died?" Lupin asked.

"Aye, heard that too. Imagine that's why you could stay at school?" Idris gave a small smile, the first Snape saw from him. Snape wondered when Lupin would tell Idris more of his connection with Dumbledore – how long into the acquaintance. It was interesting to watch Lupin allow the man to lead the conversation.

They sat quietly for a while, as the rest of the pack set up camp around them, and started to prepare food in a large cauldron over the fire. Snape tried to take in every detail, seeing who had wands and who didn't, at least visibly. He noted there were no children and no-one older than Idris.

"So, how do you eat, Remus Lupin? Make your way in the world without a pack?" Idris asked as the rest of the pack settled themselves around the fire, drinking stream water and some drinking weak tea.

"Anything really," Lupin said. "I take Muggle jobs or short-term jobs amongst wizards. Nothing long-term, obviously. Get research jobs – Dumbledore, sometimes, Gringotts. Those who don't find our kind offensive." Lupin shrugged and Idris nodded.

"What does Seth Moore do in Barmouth?" Idris asked Lupin, not Snape.

"A private tutor to a family. It works well. He gets room and board so I don't have to worry about his shelter if times are rough for us."

"If you found a pack that you were secure in, you would breed, yes?" Idris looked to both Lupin and Snape. Snape was curious why the old man was so interested.

"Yes, if we were secure. Difficult to be secure with he-who-must-not-be-named recruiting actively though." Lupin shook his head, as if in resignation. Snape noted that Lupin did not use the Dark Lord's name here. _Clever,_ he thought, _for nothing could give away his allegiance so quickly as that._

Idris nodded. "Tell me, Remus Lupin. You medicate to protect your mate's sensibilities, or because you need to be medicated with wizards generally?"

"Both I suppose," Lupin shrugged. "I never want to kill or turn anyone. I keep my human mind with Wolfsbane."

"I see that. You'll always have to be medicated if you don't breed," Idris said.

"What?" Lupin said, and for the first time since they'd sat down with the pack, Snape saw Lupin's composure slip.

"D'you not know? If it's the blood lust you fear – the point of our curse is to reproduce itself. Once you reproduce, your natural blood lust diminishes. I killed, when I was young. I never turned anyone though: the killin' frenzy was too great. But once I had my first cub, it subsided. I've had several cubs and now I never hunt for blood. Curse is self-fulfilling, you see, one way or another. It won't be denied." Idris looked off into the distance as he spoke, but Snape felt sure Idris knew he had touched a nerve in Lupin, who sat for long time in contemplation, staring into the heart of the fire. Eventually, Lupin broke the silence once more.

"Are all your cubs born werewolves?"

"Aye. Never mated with a human. Don't know what would happen then, whether there'd be a chance it would not be wolfkind." Idris looked directly at Snape when he said this.

Snape watched Lupin's face. He could almost hear the cogs whirring in his head as he sifted through this information.

"You think on it, Remus Lupin. Would it make you more comfortable in your skin to know you didn't have to kill?" Idris looked keenly into Lupin's face, searching. Snape dearly wanted to know what the man was thinking.

Idris and Lupin talked for hours. Snape watched it all. It was as if he didn't exist, so little attention was paid to him, although Lupin never took his arm away from him. He realised as a human mate, the pack considered him beneath their attention. Many in the pack looked at Lupin, often appraisingly, some of the younger men clearly bridling at the attention their leader was paying to him. Snape wondered if the man was looking to enlarge his pack with strong men. If he minded the attentions of Greyback, perhaps he too was seeking to recruit. Snape, in his own capacity as spy, began to wonder if this man, Idris who shunned his family name, Idris who did not kill at the full moon, could be of more assistance than merely just ensuring he did not join Greyback. He was sure Lupin was thinking the same.

It was past nightfall and Lupin had found a large blanket and ground sheet for them in his rucksack and they had huddled underneath it as, one by one, the members of the pack were starting to settle down. They spoke mind to mind as everyone settled, discussing what had been said but drawing no conclusions yet. As he lay in Lupin's arms, he started hear around him the unmistakeable noises of the pack around them having sex.

_Are we expected to …_

_Of course._

_I don't think I can._

_No-one will look at us._

_What about those without mates?_

_Look-outs._

_Still ..._

_Severus, do you trust me?_

He wanted to. He always wanted to when he was near Lupin. Did it matter? He didn't even have his own face. They couldn't recognise him again. And now Lupin was stroking his fingers across his stomach and Snape could feel his resistance crumbling. He sighed heavily at the touch. A werewolf rut. He read about them in his book. Lupin's hands were becoming more demanding on him now, his pulse was quickening and his groin flared at the thought and he kissed Lupin hard by way of assent.

Lupin pulled the blanket closer around them and Snape turned so his back was to Lupin's chest. Lupin gently pulled Snape's trousers down and he felt Lupin do the same to his own. At least, he wouldn't be stripped, but he still felt awkward and vulnerable, listening to the moans and groans of the others around them. Lupin pressed himself up against Snape who felt Lupin's hard cock pressed against his arse as Lupin's hands snaked around his waist and stroked under his shirt and found the bites on his chest. Snape's skin was on fire as soon as they were touched and a moan escaped his throat as his inhibitions began to fade.

Lupin pulled Snape's shirt neck aside ungracefully and found the bite and bit into it just hard enough for Snape to groan as loudly as anyone in that clearing as the smell of the pheromones around him assailed his senses. As Lupin nursed his bites, and his skin shimmered with all the sensations the bites evoked, all Snape could now think of was what his body wanted and what Lupin's body needed as his mouth silently pleaded and he reached his hand behind himself to find Lupin's cock and stroke it as well as he could.

Lupin's hand travelled back to prepare Snape, now panting as the fingers entered him, one small part of him wanting to bite back any noise at all, while the rest of his brain and body responded to the sounds and smells around him of pure sex and desire, adding to his own mounting urgency that he found he could not deny. It was intoxicating. His mind became more and more unfocused; his desire greater as Lupin eventually pushed into him, hitting his prostate immediately. He was lost at that moment. As Lupin hit his sweet spot over and over, charging all his bites as the heavy scent washed over him and quickened his passion, overwhelming Snape completely; his modesty abandoned, his inhibitions shattered and he moaned wantonly for more.

Lupin grabbed his hips and Snape scrabbled to his hands and knees as their blanket fell to the ground and, both now half naked, Lupin started to thrust in earnest, pumping Snape's cock in time as they became more and more fervent, as did all the couples in the clearing, until Snape's arms began to tremble as his orgasm peaked and crashed over him, making him cry out as Lupin thrust his own orgasm forcefully, with a low groan as he caught Snape around the waist as his arms gave way and Lupin brought them both down to the sheet and held Snape's trembling body his arms as he kissed the side of his face, and neither said the other's name.

One by one, each of the couples climaxed, each within their own world and taking no notice of any of the others – except one.

Idris had finished his rut before them. His mate lay next to him and he stroked her rounded hip gently as he lay and watched the lone wolf and his human mate with interest. Watched how the lone wolf had complete physical control of his mate. Watched and saw something else – something he couldn't put his finger on – a connection he hadn't seen before. He wondered whether a wizard wolf could be useful in a pack. Perhaps teach their cubs advanced magic that was denied them. What of his mate? Never had a human run with his pack before. Besotted with his werewolf mate, that much was clear, but an odd one he was. One that watched and listened. One that was constantly thinking. One that also didn't fit in his skin. Idris needed to watch that one more closely.

At dawn, the pack had struck their camp to make their way back to their permanent camp over the mountains. Idris asked again if Lupin would join them. He agreed but advised he need to see his mate back to his job and would return. They trusted him enough to give him the location of their camp and Snape and Lupin left. Once out of their sight, they Apparated back to the farmhouse.

Snape and Lupin spent some hours going over what Snape was to report to Dumbledore when he got back about the numbers in the pack and Greyback looking for them. They agreed they would speak through the mirrors each night or Tippy would be deployed!

Then, with care, Lupin removed the Transfiguration from Snape's face and clothes and embraced Snape tightly once in his own true form once more, making Snape gasp at the fullness of his heart.

"My days of looking at a stranger's face are over, Severus. Yours are the only eyes I wish to see, the only hair I wish to touch, the only body I wish to feel – for the rest of my days."

* * *

Lupin had reported on his stay with the pack at the Order meeting. He had stayed with them for a fortnight before pleading work to return to London. The pack of Idris was far larger than that which had congregated on the mountain. There were twenty three cubs, three pregnant women, and seven older Weres who no longer travelled. Lupin reported it was one of the most human of packs. It did not put out its elderly or weak. Idris was keen for Lupin to join the pack and to teach the cubs magic. A long discussion ensued with the Order whether this could then be turned to the Dark by Greyback. Dumbledore and Lupin arranged to discuss the long term plan in greater detail in private the next day, but it was agreed that Lupin should go back to Snowdonia to consolidate this work over the next couple of weeks.

As the meeting broke up, Dumbledore hung back as the others were leaving, pulling Lupin aside and said, "I remember Idris. Idris Lydiard. I tried to find him to bring him back to school once I heard he'd been bitten, but I couldn't find him. Then, when I told Professor Dippet, he told me he would never have allowed Idris back in the school anyway." Dumbledore sighed heavily. "He was a good student. He seemed like a fine boy. His father, I knew very well. Served on the Wizengamot for years. Vereticus said his son had died. That's how some are." Dumbledore gave a faint, apologetic smile to Lupin. "Anyway, I looked for Idris for a long time. Even approached some of the packs, but none would admit to having him. I don't blame them for not wanting to give him up to the wizarding world that had rejected him."

Then Dumbledore turned to Snape. "You'll need to discuss the Wolfsbane regimen with Remus. Why don't I leave you to it?" He looked at them both over his glasses and left the kitchen. "I'm sure you have a lot of catching up to do." He chuckled and left.

They were alone.

"I have some things to take with you," Snape said, as his posture softened and he pulled out his apothecary bag to give the supplies to Lupin. "Some potions, in case anything happens, and I will come at the weekend as a good mate would, and if you are staying after that, we will need to arrange how I get to you ..." Lupin stopped the rest of his sentence with a kiss, pulling Snape close to him and then he sighed his name.

"Later, Severus," he said softly. "I go away shortly." His kissing became more passionate and he wrapped both arms around Snape's waist, as Snape responded to the kiss and the embrace. Still kissing, Lupin started to unbutton the collar of Snape's robe and unwind Snape's cravat until it hung open around his neck and Lupin began to kiss and suck the exposed throat igniting the nerves on Snape's skin. He moaned and let his head roll back as Lupin opened Snape's robe fully.

"Here?" Snape gasped, as Lupin pulled Snape's shirt out of the waistband of his trousers, smoothed his hands under his shirt, and then ran his fingers over Snape's stomach and chest.

"Why not here?" Lupin murmured into Snape's mouth. "Not as public as a woodland clearing."

"Different then ... what about Black ... we should go to your room ... private there." Snape could barely speak as his heart pounded too hard and his groin flared hot, as Lupin's fingers tantalised the bites on his chest and Snape ran his fingers over Lupin's back.

"I've warded the kitchen now, Severus." Lupin had hooked his thumbs under the waistband of Snape's trousers and then smoothed them down Snape's thighs, lowering himself with them and feathering kisses along Snape's exposed hips and thighs as he pulled the trouser leg and boot from one leg and foot only, leaving the trousers pooled around one of Snape's ankles. Snape noticed, but he didn't care, as he watched Lupin's every move as he kissed his way back up Snape's partially clothed body until they kissed again, hands roving freely over each other.

"Undress me, Severus," Lupin murmured.

"But ..." Snape started, but Lupin kissed him silent, as he undid his own trousers to let them fall to his ankles and stepped out of them.

"Don't deny me, Severus," Lupin whispered, his thumb circling his Claiming bite, making Snape's knees weak and sending sharp thrills shooting to his groin, hardening him further. Snape pulled Lupin's shirt off his body and fell on his neck to kiss and suck it, as they grasped each other's cocks and stroked them. Lupin moved them both backwards as they kissed and stroked each other and sat himself on the chair behind him, slouching into it as he guided Snape to straddle his legs, standing, watching his face intently as his fingers started to prepare Snape, oh so gently at first, his other hand still stroking Snape's cock in time. Snape's mind was a blur, his eyes fixed on Lupin's dusky, lust-filled eyes as Lupin guided his cock underneath Snape, murmuring to him, asking him, pleading with him softly as Snape slowly and deliciously filled himself up, grinding onto Lupin as Lupin whispered love and adoration, but Snape could not even speak, he was completely on fire, as he began to pace himself, drawing himself up to grind deliciously down once more until he found a rhythm that made them both moan with searing pleasure.

As the pace increased, Lupin grasped Snape hard and stood, then pushing Snape those three steps back to the table, laying his back over it, to stand embedded inside him as Snape wrapped his legs tightly around Lupin's waist, now dripping with sweat and growling Lupin's name, aflame with desire for more as Lupin started to thrust fast and hard, calling Snape's name as he planted his hands either side of Snape's body to anchor his thrusts and go deeper. Snape groaned loudly as Lupin pierced him to the core over and over again. Lupin pushed his hands up Snape's sides, making his back arch with pleasure and Lupin gasped at the angle, and he threw his arms over his head as he moaned louder still.

"Severus, stroke yourself." Snape, already in a haze of desire and pleasure, moved one of his hands down to his own erection, and started to stroke himself quickly matching the pace of Lupin's thrusts. "That's it, my love," Lupin rasped, rolling himself into Snape, but never taking his eyes from Snape's face or body. "Beautiful," he whispered as he snapped his hips even harder and Snape cried out at the sharpness of it, sending his senses reeling as he felt his orgasm rising.

"No, Severus. Not yet," Lupin ordered, as he covered Snape's body with his own, trapping Snape's hand and cock underneath him. "I want more," Lupin murmured, still thrusting deep and hard. Snape's breathing became even more ragged with the weight of Lupin on top of him as he struggled not to release.

"I need to .." he managed to whisper, his body aching to its core for release.

"Not yet, my love. Hold on for me," Lupin murmured in return, his face now over Snape's, a hair's breadth between them, Lupin's thrusts now erratic and rolling and Snape using his legs locked around Lupin's waist to buck against him as he murmured his pleas for release, his cock burning and his groin so constricted, he thought he would howl as Lupin bucked into him ferociously. "Now, my love," he growled and with that thrust, both came fiercely, crying out harshly, then both just barely breathing having pushed themselves so hard.

Lupin gradually slowed and then kissed Snape tenderly as they told each other they loved each other. Slowly, Lupin stood, drawing his palms down Snape's body, and Snape dropped his legs from Lupin's waist as Lupin pulled away slowly. Lupin helped Snape to his feet, casting a cleaning charm and then knelt on the floor and gently, almost with reverence, pulled on the trouser leg he had taken off and pulled them back up and placed the boot back on Snape's foot and then pulled on his own trousers. He sat in the chair and pulled Snape to his lap as he nuzzled under Snape's shirt collar, kissing his neck, Snape resting his head on Lupin's, and running his fingers over Lupin's still naked back, breathing deeply until they were calm and Lupin found Snape's mouth and kissed him deeply.

"Beautiful. That was beautiful. Thank you, my love," he said, nuzzling his neck. Then he looked into Snape's eyes and said quietly, "Please forgive me for not telling you sooner."

Snape blinked twice in confusion, only just registering the apology as Lupin took his wand from his deep trouser pocket and pointed it to the corner behind Snape's back.

" _Sirius Black Revelio. Finite Incantatem!"_

* * *


	57. A Modicum of Understanding

Snape watched in horror as the Disillusionment Charm trickled away from Black to reveal him hunched in the corner, his back to them, but his face turned up to the ceiling in prayer at the horror of his discovery.

"Had an eyeful, Pads?" Lupin asked, seemingly lightly but his eyes were boring into Black and one leg was trembling. Snape himself stood quickly, turning his back on Black to tuck in his shirt and tie his cravat, feeling humiliation course under his skin like scalding water. Lupin stood quickly as soon as Snape got off his lap and stormed over to Black, wand poised in his hand.

_How could he? How could he do that to me?_ Snape thought furiously as he buttoned his robe, feeling as humiliated as he had ever done out by the Black Lake that day. _On my back in front of Black. At my most vulnerable in front of ... him!_ His eyes stung and his stomach churned. He wanted to vomit. His mind reeled that Lupin could have shamed him so, after he begged him not to. He understood now why the clothes remained on, so Black would not see Snape's nakedness, _but he would have seen enough, wouldn't he? Merlin, he'd seen plenty, hadn't he?_ The shame crawled right to the tips of Snape's fingers and toes as he listened to Lupin berating Black, his voice getting louder and louder, and Snape feeling his own anger rising as he struggled to control his own breathing, his back still to the other men as he battled to regain his composure.

"Did you just forget my sense of smell, Sirius? Think you could just stay behind and spy on us like some peeping Tom? I never knew you were such a pervert!" Lupin yelled. Snape turned to watch the scene once he'd got his breathing back to normal. Black looked like a child being scolded for a juvenile solecism, his body half turned from Lupin and hunched in on himself as his grey eyes glittered and his skin reddened with embarrassment.

"Well, was it a good show? Did you see what you wanted?" Lupin barked, looming over Black.

"No! I didn't want to see that at all! Why would I?" Black shouted as he then turned to face Lupin, the men coming nose to nose. "I wanted to see how you were with Sn ... Snape. On your own. Merlin, Moony, I didn't expect you to ravish the bloke on the bloody kitchen table! How'd I know you'd do something like that? When you started on him, I tried to leave, but you'd locked down the damn room. I couldn't even Apparate out! I didn't want to see that ... I promise."

"I hope it burned itself on your brain!" Lupin bellowed.

"I'll Obliviate it, I can assure you! I don't want it," Black said, suddenly angry. "I just wanted to see you two together, talking! You want me to accept this but I never see just how the two of you are at Order meetings. You and Snape barely talk to each other." Black exhaled noisily. "I just wanted to see how you behaved together – that's all."

"And?" Lupin challenged. "Did you see anything worthwhile?" Lupin's voice was less hard now, and Snape watched, realising that for the moment, he was unheeded and this, in its own way, was as private a moment between Lupin and his friend as their own love-making should have been. He watched and listened, all the while his own humiliation still simmering in him.

Black fidgeted as he stood, his eyes still bright with shame, but refusing to back down.

"I saw his face when he talked to you without us there. I heard his voice." Black's voice cracked.

"And ...?" Lupin said, his voice still edged with hardness but his wand now lowered at his side.

"He relaxed as soon as you two were alone. I've never seen Snape look like that. His eyes burn when he looks at you, and yours are the same. His voice," Black made a dismissive gesture and noise of disgust, "it grates on me normally – but he speaks differently when he talks to you. It's warm. I don't know – it's – loving, I suppose. It was like watching a stranger." Black spoke as if the very words he uttered would choke him.

Lupin nodded, and Black's face had an odd, closed expression that Snape could not decipher.

"And you had to see this for yourself? Couldn't trust my word or our soul bond on it that this is how we felt? Or is that soul bonding means nothing to you?"

"You know that not true, Remus. I have to re-assess everything I ever thought about Sn – Snape." Black looked bewildered. "I'm trying. But it's hard." Black almost whined as he said that last. Well, Snape had had the very same thoughts about Potter when Lupin had told him about his and Lily's soul bonding, Snape suddenly recalled. It had been very hard for Snape to accept that Potter had been worthy of Lily's soul – but deep soul magic didn't lie and Snape had had to accept that – and, yes - it was hard when you hated in the way that Snape and Black hated. Snape's anger suddenly reignited - he did not want even a modicum of understanding or sympathy with Black or with Potter!

"You still don't trust Severus, do you? Even though you saw the state of him when he came back from Voldemort in June?"

"This isn't about Snape, Remus," Black said softly. "It's about our friendship. I can't bear that I've hurt you – the way I behaved to Snape. I didn't think about you." Black's head hung suddenly and he inhaled deeply. "I want you to forgive me. I'll get on my knees and beg if you want me to, Moons."

"I don't need gestures; I need your sincerity. If you're going to beg on your knees to anyone, Pads, it should be to Severus," Lupin said, his voice still harsh.

Black flinched. "Is that what you want me to do ...?"

"Would you, if I asked?" Lupin challenged, leaning into Black's face, his eyes narrowed.

The disgust on Black's face was evident and yet ... "Yes, Remus. I would, to show you how sorry I am. I can't undo what I did."

"No, you can't," Lupin snapped and Black's eyes flicked away then met Lupin's again with renewed courage.

"But, I'll do what I can. Snape's your mate. I understand it. I'll respect it. Will you ever trust me again?"

"That will take time. I want to but ... it will take time," Lupin said, backing one step away.

"Well, this is all very touching, I'm sure," Snape said, in his coldest voice, whilst the intensity of his shame burned deeper still to see the men starting to come to an understanding over his prone body, as he saw it. He stood ramrod straight, his sneer every bit as real as the humiliation that was scorching his shattered pride.

"I am delighted that you have each attained the reassurance that you need from that little ... exhibition. Now, undo the wards, Lupin, and let me pass." He went to walk past both men to stand by the door to wait for the wards to fall but Lupin grabbed his wrist harshly as he passed. He heard Black take a sharp intake of breath of shock, then felt the squeeze of side-along Apparition.

They Apparated into Lupin's bedroom, Lupin still holding Snape's wrist in a vice-like and painful grip. He pulled Snape into his arms by that wrist, but Snape struggled away.

"Get away from me, Remus!" he growled. Lupin swung to the door and warded it locked with a violent slashing motion of his wand and then turned to Snape and grabbed his shoulders in his hands.

"Don't push me away," he growled. It was almost a command. At any other time, Snape knew it would make him compliant, that he would desire it, but he was too angry, too humiliated. To allow Lupin this submission would be to compound the humiliation. He searched the blue eyes that not even one hour ago had looked upon him with lust and longing, and then with love.

"Why did you call me by my surname? Why?" Lupin spoke urgently, his eyes were hard and angry. It was not really his Lupin at all. In just in two weeks! This Lupin didn't soften and apologise when he caused offence. And yet they had just made love in the most spectacular way and his words and hands had been so loving and sensual.

"Why did you do that to me?" Snape shouted, pushing his own arms against Lupin's grip. "You knew! I told you I couldn't bear it if you did that. Why did you?"

"Severus, listen to me, please" Lupin said, loosening his grip. "I knew, but I could not stop. I have been with the pack for two weeks and only on one of those nights were you with me. I wanted you so painfully all those nights and tonight I could not stop, even when I realised I could smell Sirius."

"Not even for me. You could not stop, even for me?" Snape cried, feeling so worthless. _Again._ "I should not have let you take me with the pack. You would not have thought it was acceptable if I had not been so weak."

"No, it is not what I meant by it, no, Severus!" Lupin's eyes had softened now, and he was staring intently at Snape, almost like he was re-focusing. "It is perhaps too great an instinct to deny. Taking you with the pack was more satisfying, more erotic, to me than I could ever explain to you. Hearing and seeing you so abandoned was such a joy. When I realised Sirius was in the room, I remembered what he tried to do to you and it just made me want to possess you more. That's why I didn't stop. The two events merged in my mind." Lupin's shoulders sagged and he backed away from Snape. "I know it doesn't excuse it, Severus. I know it doesn't."

Lupin went to soothe the Claiming bite on Snape's neck with his thumb, but that made Snape more angry and he brushed Lupin's hand away harshly and stepped further back from Lupin.

"It's like the Imperius curse, that thing, isn't it? To make me submissive," Snape barked and sent a stinging hex to Lupin's hands. To his horror, it deflected away. He groaned inwardly - his wand was submissive to Lupin's – he could not hurt him with it. His anger and humiliation brightened. Since he could not use magic, and Lupin was stronger, his weapons would have to be his words – his inexhaustible supply of contempt and malice.

Snape grasped the circlet on Lupin's upper arm. "What does this mean to you exactly?" Snape snarled. "That I am a piece of meat to be spread before your friends so you can demonstrate your possession of me? Are you a wizard or a dog wolf, Remus? You must decide."

On the instant, Lupin's eyes widened in shock and Snape saw something retreat from his eyes, from the set of his jaw.

"You have never been fodder for others' sexual appetites, have you, Remus?" Snape spat. "If you had, you would understand what you have done to me." Snape's voice was low and haunted, his voice constricted by the lump in his throat and the heartbreak in his soul.

The words stung Lupin like a whip that sent Lupin backwards staring at Snape in horror. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out as he backed himself to the wall and stared at Snape, standing still and unyielding, his eyes glittering with hurt.

"Let me out of this room. I want you out of my sight. If you can only behave towards me like a possessive beast, Remus, then I don't ever want to see you again," Snape hissed, looking away from Lupin's eyes, now shining with tears of shame of his own.

"Perhaps, it was always on the cards – I have no right to a human mate. I had no business bonding when I am a beast after all. And as a beast, I have lost your trust." Lupin voice was with thick with emotion. "You are not the first, after all." Lupin took his wards from the door, and rested his forehead against it wearily as he opened it, his eyes tightly shut. "Go. Go now." His voice was small and defeated, although Snape could register no hurt other than his own as he swept out of the room, his stride not wide enough nor quick enough for him to leave this place of burning shame.

oooOOOooo

It had taken Snape days to even try to think calmly about what had happened that night. Now he was thinking about it, he was becoming more and more troubled.

Snape helped himself to another liberal glass of Firewhiskey. Black's words kept coming back to him: how Lupin had changed when he ran with the wolves, so much so they had ceased to trust him. Lupin himself telling him all that time ago how unhappy he had become when he ran with the wolves. Lupin had told him he ran with the wolves for months on end. And here he was, judging Lupin instead of trying to understand him. Lupin was running with a pack now and when his territoriality was threatened, he had done what felt natural and taken Snape in front of Black. Being in the sexually charged atmosphere of the pack, his inhibitions on Snape's behalf had gone. Snape didn't have to like it, or approve of it, but he should have tried to understand it. Lupin put himself in the way of the one thing he couldn't abide – his boggart was the moon – the moon that represented the wolf and all the pain and the animal behaviour that entailed.

Lupin had to dissemble to be a spy, had to blend, immerse himself in the pack. Didn't he, when he stood before the Dark Lord, take on the persona of the Death Eater he once was? What he had once chosen to be. Lupin had never chosen this, and fought the animal in him all the time. Now, the Order sent him to what he hated, and it affected him. Did Snape turn his back on him now? What kind of a husband was he?

oooOOOooo

They had not got round to discussing any arrangements: not for the weekend, not for the Wolfsbane, not for what would happen at the full moon. On the Thursday, he took the silencing spell off the mirror he had placed on it when he had got back from Grimmauld Place, and tried to call Lupin. He kept trying throughout the evening, but there was no response. Perhaps, he was giving Snape a taste of his own medicine. Snape cast a revealing spell on the mirror to see how often Lupin had tried calling him since the weekend. His heart fell when he saw that Lupin had not tried – not once. He started to fret. He was supposed to go to him at the weekend. He had meant to go at the weekend to help maintain Lupin's cover, but also – he wanted to patch things up. Now he had had time to think – to realise what he had said would mean to Lupin – he _needed_ to patch things up. He knew where the encampment was – he could just go. But he did not know how Lupin had transfigured his face. He had not looked at himself. Should he send Tippy to find him? Into a pack of werewolves? He shook his head at his own stupidity. Nor could he send an owl. He cursed himself. He had been so wrapped up in his own feelings of offence, he hadn't seen the wider consequences. Now he was becoming fearful.

He spoke to Dumbledore to see if he had heard from Lupin. Dumbledore told him he had not spoken since the day after the Order meeting and asked jovially if they had had "a lovers' tiff." Snape had left Dumbledore's office without another word.

There was an Order meeting after the weekend. Hagrid had returned and Dumbledore reported that the prospects of the Giants joining them looked slim, although Hagrid still held out hope. Even greater reliance would now be put on Lupin to recruit more werewolves – when he got in touch.

The meeting ended and, while the others socialised, Snape slipped away to Lupin's room. " _Accio_ enchanted mirror," he whispered, hoping nothing would come. It came from Lupin's bedside table. Snape felt as if his world had fallen away from him. He had told Lupin he hadn't wanted to see him again, and Lupin had believed him and left the mirror behind. Left the mirror that he had kept to himself for all this time. Snape's head was reeling as he stared at the small mirror in his hand.

"Only took you two weeks, Snivellus."

Snape's back stiffened and he turned slowly to regard Black standing just outside the door in the hall.

"Meaning ...?"

"Two weeks he was with the wolves and you couldn't cope with the change in him. And you have the nerve to criticise me ... Remus ran with the wolves for months on end last time. The change was profound. Well, now you know how hard it can be when you think you know someone ..." Black stood casually, his expression disdainful, his eyes knowing. "So, will _you_ beg on your knees to him now, Snivellus?" he sneered.

Snape curled his lip and pushed past Black heavily and stormed out of the house, clutching the small mirror in his hand.

oooOOOooo

He stood in his quarters with the flask of Wolfsbane in his hand. He was quite distracted now. No-one had heard from Lupin since Dumbledore had seen him. Lupin did not have his mirror. Snape could only hope that Lupin would think the same as he. It was the only place they had in common if he was with Idris's pack. He wrote a note begging Lupin to get in touch – just let him know he was safe - and wrapped Lupin's mirror in it and sealed it to the flask. He called for Tippy and asked her to take the Wolfsbane to the farmhouse and leave it on the sitting room table, and then he waited and hoped.

Although he kept the mirror with him all the time, Lupin did not call him and Snape's stomach started to churn with worry almost constantly, his conversation with Black now haunting his dreams.

_"Running with the wolves ... it changed him. You don't understand. He became someone else – so unlike Remus..."_

_"Perhaps, a young man in pain ... running with those from whom he had always striven to be different ... to prove he was not an animal ... and yet running with them because he was commanded to by the Order ..."_

_"We ... that is, I, never thought of it that way – what kind of toll his missions were taking on him. Oh Remus."_

" _Two weeks he was with the wolves and you couldn't cope with the change in him."  
_ " _Two weeks he was with the wolves and you couldn't cope with the change in him."  
_ " _Two weeks he was with the wolves and you couldn't cope with the change in him."_

He had fallen at the first hurdle.

oooOOOooo

The full moon was tonight. Snape resolved he would not go during the day. He didn't know what Lupin would be like after two weeks having left each other on such terrible terms. He suspected Lupin might even be violent with him and he had no way to defend himself now. Before moonrise, he Apparated into the farmhouse, his throat parched, not in desire, but in fear. He had his wand drawn, but how would it help? He had bonded his own wand never to hurt Lupin. Its weight in his hand reassured him anyway.

There was no sign that Lupin had been to the farmhouse since they were last here together last month. He took off his robe and his boots and went to the kitchen. He would have a tea while he waited though, Merlin knew, he needed something stronger to calm his nerves, his hands were trembling now, not knowing what to expect from Lupin at all.

Then, on the countertop, he saw them: five flasks in which he had sent the five doses of Wolfsbane, the note unread, the mirror still wrapped inside. Neatly lined up. Unopened.

Snape steadied himself as his head blurred and his balance nearly went. Lupin had been here – and moved the Wolfsbane to the kitchen and then ignored it. Lupin without Wolfsbane. But he wouldn't ... why would he? Where was he, if he had no Wolfsbane? Was he with the pack? Could they keep him safe? Would he roam free? Bite someone? Turn someone? Kill someone? After all these years? Snape was completely panic-stricken. Time was drawing on. Moonrise was coming and he could feel the tug in his gut. He had no idea where Lupin was.

He felt the tug harder and took himself to the bathroom. He remembered he had been violently sick last time so he went to wait for the worst to happen and sat on the tiled floor. He started to feel nauseous as the moon rose, but then he heard it. The muffled sound of human keening that was not his own. It was rising, rising to a scream. _Remus!_ Snape scrambled to his feet. The cellar! He hadn't even thought to look in the cellar and he ran for it. He rattled at the cellar door handle as he heard the scream alter to the howl of the wolf.

He cast spell after spell against the door in increasing desperation, but he could not gain entry. Locked inside was the wolf: Lupin without Wolfsbane, now crashing against the huge oak door, strong in its grain and fortified by magic, to get to Snape – whether it was to attack him or just to get to his mate, Snape did not know. He did not care, for his own mind was completely blown by his hatred of the door that separated them that no spell of his could penetrate because his husband had cast the wards to keep him out – to keep him safe – and intention in deep magic was everything. Once again, his own wand defeated him.

He threw himself bodily against the door now calling Lupin's name, knowing he was hurting his own shoulder over and over again but the Claim drove him on, until he fell at the door, scrabbling with the tips of his fingers at it in desperation, listening to the wolf whining and whimpering as he too scrabbled with his paws on the other side. It tore at Snape's insides – a physical pain that made him keen until they both wore themselves out, panting and whimpering on either side of the magically reinforced barrier. There they stayed as the night passed with excruciating slowness. As the moon set, Snape felt the physical pain of the Claim depart, and the pain of his dislocated, bruised shoulder and torn fingers assail him, as he heard the whining turn to howling turn to screaming turn to agonised groans then the whimpering of the reversion from the wolf to man and a heavy slump behind the door.

Bearing the new pains, he stood shakily, still panting, using his bloody hands to brace himself against the door, he cast at the door once more and the wards fell and the door unlocked with a small click. The tiniest noise and the door opened. Snape's bloodied fingers curled around the door, and he realised as the door didn't give that Lupin's body was behind it. He cast a Levitation charm that gently manoeuvred Lupin's body away and then through the door and through to the sitting room where Snape Conjured a padded sheet and laid Lupin upon it, hissing as he saw the damage not healed in the reversion. One of Lupin's shoulders was dislocated, his scapula was shattered, and his clavicle broken, his skin was torn and bloody on his shoulder and his fingers.

Snape didn't have a proper potion store here and once again summoned Tippy. The little elf, bow intact, appeared before him smiling, but her wide smile fell from her face as she saw her Master Lupin so bloody and torn and her Professor Snape, blood coagulating on his hands, his shirt torn and bloody at the shoulder also. She grasped her hands together, waiting for instructions.

Snape gave Tippy a long list of potions he needed from his store at Hogwarts and the elf nodded and popped away. Whilst she was gone, Snape quickly checked for other injuries and then Summoned Lupin's clothes, which came from the cellar as Tippy returned and then busied herself bringing bandages, bowls of hot water, towels and a sling as Snape cleansed Lupin's wounds before mending the bones and healing all the open wounds. They were extensive this time, and his own wand movements difficult and laboured as he worked through his own pain to heal Lupin as quickly as possible before he came round. When all was done, he Levitated Lupin to the bed that Tippy had freshly made and sat heavily on it, his head dropping into his own damaged hands with exhaustion.

"Shall Tippy make some drinks and food, Professor Snape, sir, before Professor Snape heals his hands?" the little elf asked, tentatively, her eyes wide, looking at the ragged injuries on Snape's fingers. The question caught Snape by surprise. He had no idea how he had managed to lose any sense of his own self in the time since finding Lupin unconscious and damaged behind the door. He looked at his hands in horror.

"Tea, please Tippy, and can you make a broth for when Master Lupin wakes," he said, his voice sounding distant, as he held up his own hands for inspection and repair and wondered if he would be able to use his left hand to cast to repair his shoulder.

oooOOOooo

Snape, having laid down, fully dressed, next to Lupin once he had healed his own injuries and fallen asleep, awoke to find a frighteningly pale Lupin stroking the side of his face with a look on his face that approached wonder.

Lupin breathed Snape's name and kissed his cheek lightly. "What the hell did we do?"

"You didn't take the Wolfsbane I sent. Why?" Snape asked, turning onto his side, and draping his arm across Lupin's waist.

Lupin looked bewildered and ashamed. "Too long with the pack, I think. I didn't have the thought of you to anchor me. I thought you'd gone for good. I knew enough that I didn't want to run free on the full moon, that's why I came here but I didn't want to be here alone, knowing you weren't going to be with me. Without Wolfsbane, at least I wouldn't remember the night."

"So you undertook the transformation without Wolfsbane? You were punishing yourself?" Snape whispered, suddenly understanding. Lupin's eyes dropped.

"I suppose so. I messed up with you so badly. I deserved it," Lupin said, a flush of shame spreading up his cheeks.

"You are not a dog to be whipped, you know," Snape said earnestly.

"Am I not?" Lupin's eyes were afraid. Snape felt his heart seize momentarily. _What have we done to each other?_

Snape held Lupin's chin. "You are not." He caught Lupin's lips lightly. "You are not a dog. You are not a beast. I was very hurt and I lashed out at you."

"I don't know how to make it up to you," Lupin said softly.

"Never do it again - that would be a start. I want to understand you, Remus. I know being with the pack is hard for you and I want to help, if I can. We both have our insecurities after all, and we know mine are deep. But I don't want to be without you, I promise you I don't."

"Are you still mine, Severus?" Lupin said, as he pulled Snape to him gently.

"I am yours, body and soul," Snape sighed, not resisting the pull this time.

"I promise you I will never behave like that to you again, not with the pack, not anywhere."

Snape ran his hands through Lupin's hair. "It was, I believe you called it, my abandonment with the pack that made you think you could continue when Black was in the kitchen?"

Lupin murmured his assent.

"And yet, I enjoyed that night with the pack," Snape said. "I think that's where our problem arose. I was Transfigured, the pack didn't know me, I was anonymous, you took me on the bite – I _was_ abandoned. I _did_ enjoy it. It was liberating."

"Would you do that again with the pack, on my most solemn oath never to do that in front of anyone else," Lupin smiled, a hopeful smile, "unless of course you asked me?"

"I rather think I would ..."

oooOOOooo

The weekend came and Snape Apparated to the farmhouse. Lupin was waiting for him and Transfigured him into Seth Moore and took him by the hand to join the pack.

* * *


	58. Wandsong

Snape and Lupin walked to the encampment. Snape was surprised to find that the encampment was surrounded by old protection wards. He felt their shimmering presence as Lupin led him through knowing that, if he had not been hand in hand with Lupin, an invited guest of the pack, he would have been forcibly repelled by them.

"These wards have been in place for centuries, Severus. This pack has been here since the Middle Ages. It's not a huge pack. Most of the young males feel the urge to go and find territory of their own, but some stay."

The people he had met in the forest clearing were sitting around bundled up in many layers of clothing against the December mountain air, each set to various tasks – chopping wood, mending clothes, milling flour, sharpening knives. There were others there too. He saw the pregnant women washing clothes, kneading loaves, tending small children. There were babes in arms, toddlers and children, some playing, some working. He saw Idris seated at the roots of a huge oak tree, whittling at a slender stave of wood, watched by two children and his mate. He looked up, saw Snape, and acknowledged him with a small nod of the head and carried on with the stave, talking quietly to the children, Snape hearing the deep resonance of his voice, if not the words themselves.

"Come, Seth," Lupin smiled, and took Snape by the hand again.

Snape had had no idea that there were entrenched packs who had permanent dwellings. He had thought all werewolves, even those in packs, were nomadic. He stopped to look at this dwelling. It was a huge round house with one large chimney stack in the centre and a few windows with shutters made of rushes. The whole pack lived in this large and ancient structure. He approached it with trepidation, sure it would be foetid inside. And yet, when he entered, whilst little light entered through the small windows, especially with the low winter sun, it was scrubbed and laid with fresh rushes to the ancient floor. There was a large open fire pit in the centre with spits and hooks over it for cooking, although the large cauldrons were currently empty and scrubbed to Snape-like standards of cleanliness.

Clearly, no-one in the pack owned a great deal. _For what good did chattels do a feral werewolf?_ Snape pondered. Small bundles of possessions in backpacks lined the walls, where rudimentary bedding marked the different sleeping arrangements. Furthest from the door, a few very elderly people were lying in their bedding, sleeping.

"How do they manage the transformation at that age?" Snape asked quietly.

"It's remarkably painful for them. The transformation takes longer as does the reversion. The damage takes longer to heal. Very few werewolves live to the age that these have. It's testament to the care that the pack gives to them that they are here at all."

Snape's blood froze. He simply had not considered a time when Lupin would not be strong enough to cope with the transformation and the stress that his body and magical core came under. He felt his pulse quicken uncomfortably.

"Is there anything they can take to ease their transformations or help with the damage?"

"Even usual pain killing potions are helpful. But look around you. How can they afford such things?"

"And there is no help for them? No Ministry system to alleviate their suffering?"

A rather ugly expression settled on Lupin's face, such as Snape had never seen before, and it distressed him to see it distort Lupin's handsome features.

"Wizards subsidise pain relief for werewolves? You know better than that," Lupin shook his head. "I suggest that early deaths for werewolves would be most satisfactory to most of the Ministry and most wizards would not care if that came painlessly or otherwise." Snape clasped one of Lupin's hands, feeling quite torn by the bitterness he heard in Lupin's voice.

"I care,"Snape whispered plaintively _._ Lupin's face softened, and he smiled and he squeezed the hand that had taken his.

Lupin led Snape to where Lupin's own rucksack sat with his bedding and sat down on it, pulling Snape down with him, kissing him gently then holding him, still very tender and apologetic following the events in front of Black, despite the following full moon and Snape's constant reassurances whenever they had spoken since that all was forgiven. Lupin held Snape in his arms and they kissed for while, Snape stroking Lupin's face. Then Snape looked to Lupin to speak so they could not be heard.

_I have told Dumbledore I will be spending the weekends with you, so he can cover my House duties. He was unhappy about it._

_Why should he be?_ Lupin asked, stroking Snape's hair.

_He thinks we should be keeping our distance, in case I am called. That I am creating too many memories for the Dark Lord to find. The usual things._

_What do you say to him?_

_I tell him I know all these things. I prepare thoroughly and practise my Occlumency at all other times except when I'm with you. I tell him if he wants to protect his spy – both of his spies –_ Snape's mouth became a thin line of dislike at these descriptions - _he needs to think about what we need. I tell him that you need me._ Snape pressed his hand to Lupin's chest. _You need me to anchor you to your wizard, or I will lose you ... we will all lose you ... to your wolf._ Snape pulled Lupin closer to him, feeling losing Lupin to the wolf could happen all too easily. He could feel the pull the pack exerted on Lupin, and the revulsion Lupin felt about that selfsame attraction, like an addiction to be fought even though this pack was so much better than others Lupin had visited.

"I'm very lucky to have you ... Seth," he said and nudged his nose against Snape's. "I miss your nose," he whispered with a chuckle.

"There was certainly no missing it before, was there?" Snape responded tartly, and leant to rest his head against Lupin's shoulder, enjoying the warmth of his mate's body. "Tell me what you have been doing this week," Snape said, his fingers stroking Lupin's hand, secretly wishing it was already nightfall.

"I have been teaching!" Lupin said with a large smile. "You will laugh, Se...Seth. I have taught the women some cleaning, mending and food preparation spells." Snape did not laugh, but looked highly affronted, but Lupin laughed and clasped Snape's hands to him to calm him. "It's good to be useful. And I've been teaching the children defensive magic and some charms work. We started with the main three: _Expelliarmus, Stupefy_ and _Protego_. Of course, they've seen the pack use these but, perhaps not ...ah ... shall we say ... with any finesse?" Lupin said diplomatically. "We've been practising all week and have had some very good results. You know, I have noticed that many of the children are quite magically powerful. I would say more so than ordinary wizarding children."

"Perhaps there is an advantage to their difference then?" Snape said, as he lifted his head.

"Perhaps," Lupin said, thoughtfully.

"Do you teach the adults defensive magic?" Snape asked.

"Funny, you should say that," Lupin said, smiling. "Many of the younger adults stand around and watch and I catch them out of the corner of my eyes practising the wand movements. I think they'd like to, but never will without the say-so of Idris. I think Idris wants to know me better before he lets me near the defenders of the pack."

"I suppose that's understandable."

"Perhaps, we should duel for them. They can then see what we're capable of and that we have something to teach them. What do you think?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "Bonded wand," he said succintly and somewhat sulkily. "They'll just see you thrash me."

"That picture has a certain charm," Lupin teased, and nudged Snape's shoulder, but then he said, "but seriously, remembering that intention is everything, I believe we could put on a bit of a show. Teaching the children is all very well, but it's the adults I need to reach."

"Albus has agreed they should be taught so they can defend themselves when Greyback tries to use his own brand of persuasion. Have you offered this to Idris?" Snape asked.

"I need to be careful of the pack's sensitivities. I am an outsider to this pack, travelling to see if the pack fits me. I must do nothing without Idris's say-so or I will be challenging him as alpha. Having talked to him every day for all these weeks, I know he loathes everything Voldemort stands for and has enough sense to know that his promises are lies. Idris wants to recruit strong men to his pack for safety in numbers. Albus very much hopes that stragglers or packs who do not wish to join Voldemort will join packs like this that can offer shelter and strength in numbers. The thing is this: Idris knows in extending the numbers of his pack that sooner or later he will be challenged for the leadership. It's a dilemma for him. If challenged and bested, he would have to leave the pack he enlarged."

"Does it have to be that way?" The unfairness of it struck Snape quite hard. It also struck him that it was Idris that Albus seemed to trust (or a remembrance of him from school) and it would surely defeat his plans for this pack to be a sanctuary for others if Idris were not in charge of it.

Lupin shrugged. "It is what it is. If he were ill or injured otherwise, the pack would care for him. It's how this pack operates."

"Is he allowed to cede the leadership, rather than be ousted?"

"How very Slytherin of you," Lupin smiled. "I don't suppose that scenario has ever occurred to a werewolf pack. Normally you cede where there are elections or dynasties. The pack recognises neither."

"This is a pack like no other, you said. Couldn't they break the mould?"

Lupin looked at Snape for a long time, thinking. "The pack needs the combat to show their leader can fight."

"But can the challenger lead or just fight?" Snape challenged. "From what little I've seen of Idris, he is a true leader."

"I agree," Lupin said, "but this is a wolf pack, not wizarding society. Leadership has always been decided by single combat, best on the day, might is right."

"I'm saying that might it not always right, Remus," Snape said insistently, looking back over to the sleeping elderly werewolves. "And I think Idris knows that and that's why he doesn't put the weak out of the pack to die. Another leader may reverse this …" Snape indicated the elderly with his outstretched hand. Lupin's face was sad and he nodded and raised his head to kiss Snape's forehead. Snape knew Lupin could not give him the reassurances he suddenly seemed to need of some kindness in the world of Lupin's kind.

They were quiet for a while then Snape asked, "Do they make any potions to assist the weak?"

"They make some salves and traditional infusions, but very few potions. Quite a few have had no magical education at all, or had it cut short. I'm afraid it is an addition to our curse that strong smells can be a deterrent to potion-brewing as I found out to myself so often." Lupin laughed softly. "The only time I tried to make Wolfsbane for myself, I nearly choked to death on the strength of the fumes just at the first stage of the dry mix!"

"In fairness, Remus, Wolfsbane is a fiendishly complex potion. Only Felix is more complex," Snape said coolly, rolling his eyes. "No, what I'm thinking is seeing what ingredients they have locally – for instance, willow bark – to brew simple pain relief potions. The ones I brew come from expensive and exotic ingredients, but it doesn't necessarily need to be so. Perhaps we can go and search the woods and environs later."

"Excellent. I'll introduce you to Angharad. She is Idris's mate and makes the salves and remedies. She may well know what is to be found and where."

Snape nodded, and then his brow furrowed quizzically. "Tell me, if some of them are born in the pack, how do they get their wands?" Snape suddenly asked. Lupin grinned hugely.

"That, my love, is quite a story, but it is one that Idris himself must tell you."

Lupin led Snape out of the roundhouse once more and asked Idris's permission to introduce Snape to Angharad, explaining to him how Snape might be able to assist Angharad with his own knowledge of medicines.

"Reckon as she'll be safe with him," Idris commented softly and nodded to Angharad who went and sat with Snape and he asked her about the flora and fauna of the land around them and she told him about these and of her salves and remedies. Snape mentally listed all that she told him, and started to think of the potions that could be adapted to the ingredients they had around them. When he returned to Hogwarts tomorrow, he would start a list of these and work them through so he would have simplified recipes for her for the next weekend.

* * *

When nightfall finally came, Lupin and Snape made their way to Lupin's bedding. Snape's body was already feeling the need for Lupin, and he knew it was reciprocated by the way Lupin held his hand or his arm, each touch more urgent than the next as the evening had worn. As the lights were doused on Idris's command, Lupin and Snape laid down and Lupin pulled the cover over them as they kissed deeply, each removing their own trousers in their eagerness to touch each other, knowing the pack were all doing the same. Lupin went to remove Snape's shirt, but Snape grabbed Lupin's wrist swiftly and hissed, "the Mark!" and Lupin left it, but Snape could tell Lupin hadn't wanted to. Lupin was already highly charged and had wanted him naked.

He pressed his body to Snape as he moved over Snape's body, wanting as much contact as he could get, his hands grasping him greedily as he kissed him hungrily and his legs tangled themselves around Snape's body, leaving Snape gasping for breath, almost suffocating under Lupin's enveloping attentions that made his body burn with increasing intensity and his mind slowly unravel, until Lupin turned him over and found the Claiming bite once more and bit down, making Snape cry out as Lupin's fingers entered him, sending surges of pleasure through Snape's body.

Snape had surrendered now, his body liberated from his inhibitions as his senses were assailed by the bite and the sexually charged atmosphere of the pack around them that permeated his very skin, coursing across it like electrical pulses. His body was completely Lupin's, ready and pliable, as Lupin brought him to the very cusp of ecstasy on his fingers alone.

Lupin caught Snape around his waist and brought him up onto his knees and thrust into him, almost growling his desire to him as he thrust deeply and bit once more, and Snape groaned loudly as Lupin set his rhythm, hard and fast, hitting Snape's prostate making Snape groan with each thrust as ecstasy added to delirium, until Snape could take no more and cried out his orgasm as it crashed over him and Lupin's released his own, growling into Snape's neck, pumping it out until he lowered Snape to the sheet, holding him gently now as he feathered kisses over Snape's face telling him he loved him, and, breathless still, his heart full, Snape grabbed Lupin's face to look him in the eyes.

_Yours, body and soul._

* * *

The following morning, the air was crisp and frigid, as all of the able-bodied of the pack congregated outside the roundhouse. Idris announced that their guest wizard wolf had offered to give them a demonstration of wizard duelling with his mate. This caused a susurration of outrage to run around the onlookers, who had still yet to assess Lupin's male wizard mate. There were no same sex werewolf couples in this pack and, although Lupin did not sense animosity as such, he knew there was indignation by the unclaimed females that he had no interest in them. But, ultimately, that Snape was a human wizard caused the most offence amongst some of the older werewolves who did not how to judge the relationship at all. Some clearly wanted to judge Snape as a female so to duel with him was considered something close to outrageous.

"Now," Idris raised his voice, clearly in command, "you know Remus Lupin by now. Know that he has things he could teach us. Help us against Greyback and he-we-do-not-name. We don't know Seth Moore. We know he is not our kind. But we know he is mated to Remus Lupin. He is not a female, so don't take on so," he growled at a group of the pack who were clearly put out by the idea and grumbling about it audibly. Idris's attention silenced them. Idris straightened and puffed out his chest. "He may be a wizard. But it's wizard's skill we be needin'." He nodded firmly. "Watch and learn." He turned full circle looking at each of the pack then stood to one side and gestured to Lupin and Snape to take the floor.

Snape had no compunction about duelling in public. Merlin knew he'd duelled in public plenty of times throughout school and as a Death Eater, but there was no doubt about it, being surrounded by a whole pack of werewolves certainly made his stomach churn, especially as this was the first time they would look at him as anything other than Lupin's bed-mate.

Lupin asked them very graciously to give them a wide berth. Snape and Lupin had already agreed between themselves that they would not go for show duelling, but properly aggressive duelling so the pack would see how fast and furious it could be.

Snape and Lupin took their stances and, as agreed with Idris in advance, Idris counted them down and started them.

They both raised their shields as they threw Stunning spells, both undercutting their own Stunners with Stinging and Whipping Hexes as their wands shot jets of light crackling with energy and they sent powerful Stunning spells between them, parrying each other's spells with spells of their own as they weaved around each other. The crackling of the magic was almost deafening, and Lupin sent _Incarcerous_ at Snape, sending a leather whip that shot around his waist, but Snape turned it instantly into gossamer threads that broke with his first movement.

Snape whipped his wand to catch up the log store by the roundhouse and sent all of the logs flying towards Lupin at high speed, but Lupin deflected the logs with one sweep of his wand away as he whipped up two stools from the ground nearby to send flying at Snape who batted them away with a small but violent movement sending them crashing to the ground and their Stunning spells continued relentlessly and violently, Lupin parrying each one of Snape's, although finally a burning hex of Lupin's caught Snape's hand as Lupin simultaneously cast _Expelliarmus_ so Snape's wand flew from his burnt hand to the floor.

As the pack murmured, commenting to each other, Idris picked up Snape's wand and then held it delicately across both of his large, calloused hands and then held it to his ear. His eyebrows briefly furrowed as if he had heard something unexpected. He walked over to Snape.

"Hawthorn and dragon heart string, Seth Moore," Idris said as he passed it back to Snape, who flinched with shock. Very few wizards could discern a wand by touch or .. even more rarely ... hear its song. "Quite the wand for spellwork." He moved closer to Snape and leant in to his ear. "You've bound your wand," he whispered, his whisper like gravel. He moved away and looked searchingly into Snape's eyes, a question clearly on his lips, but not uttering it yet whilst he thought about it. Snape stood his ground silently before Idris, recalling Lupin's warning not to do anything that seemed like a challenge. "Takes a powerful wizard to bind his own wand. That's harsh. Why do you need to protect your mate from your magic, Seth Moore?" Idris's voice was low and menacing. Snape returned Idris's stare, whether it was the right thing to do or not, as he himself was being directly challenged now.

Suddenly, Lupin's hand passed between their two faces and rested on Snape's shoulder.

"Because he _is_ a powerful wizard," Lupin said quietly, "and he could easily hurt me accidentally."

Idris moved quickly away from Snape, recognising his trespass in his close proximity but narrowed his gaze at Lupin. "Is that right?"

"That's right," Lupin said, still quietly, confirming not confronting.

"That's why you could parry each and every one of his hexes?" Idris asked quietly. Snape could not hide his own surprise at how little had escaped the Alpha's attention. Lupin nodded.

"Duel with me, Seth Moore!" Idris turned and spoke loudly for the pack to hear. "Not as challenger but as a duellist. Show me some magic!"

Snape's eyes snapped to Lupin's.

_A direct challenge. You must. Don't spare your magic. He's testing what I've said about you._

With that, Snape took his stance with Idris. The rest of the pack moved even further back, some wittering and others mumbling in excitement.

"My count!" Idris barked then counted them down then they each let off volleys of ferocious Stunning spells, Stinging, Burning and Whipping Hexes. Neither raised a shield, except when Snape used _Protego_ as a Repulsion Hex. Snape was shocked by the raw power of the older man. Clearly never tutored or refined to any degree but magically powerful and, like Lupin, exceptionally fast.

The dark eyes of the werewolf glittered with adrenaline as the men threw hex after hex, never quite fully connecting or unbalancing the other. Snape could not read him although he was able to read his wandwork. If Snape refined that, he was sure the older man would be unreadable entirely. Snape's jaw set and he sent five hexes flying in fast succession, only to be blocked and have each returned to him. Both men managed to dance away from most of the other's spells but occasionally were caught on an ankle or a hand where they weren't quick enough. On they went, equally matched in their scorching pace, until the older man sent a ferocious Repulsion Hex that sent Snape reeling across the ground and Idris held his hands up to stop the bout.

He strode to Snape who was brushing down his trousers and held out his hand and clasped Snape's forearm. "Come, Seth Moore. I think we have earned a drink." He gestured to Snape and Lupin to sit as he Conjured a brazier of flames and some of the pack set about setting up a kettle.

"Tell me, Remus Lupin," Idris turned to Lupin. "Do you duel often with your mate?"

"We train together. Always pays to keep your skills sharp."

Idris turned to Snape. "Indeed it does. Will you assist Remus Lupin with his teaching when you visit?"

"I'd be happy to," Snape said, looking quickly at Lupin, whose smile was broad at his mate's acceptance. "May I ask ..." Snape looked at Idris, hoping he was not speaking out of turn so soon after the mark of his acceptance, "... about the wand ... did you ...?"

"I hear Wandsong, Seth Moore." One of the pack passed Idris an apple from a large basket and he pulled out a small knife and cut it to eat, but all the time, he watched Snape. "Always had the knowin' of wand wood, since I can remember. I remember the first time I picked up my mother's wand and it told me what it was. At school, Garrick Ollivander sought me out, even though he was a few years older than me. You know him?" Snape nodded slowly, stealing a quick look at Lupin, and realising this was a story he had already heard. "Saw me listening to my class mates' wands. Told his father, the wand maker. So," Idris threw his apple core into the woods and took a tin mug of tea from Angharad, "Gervaise Ollivander goes into negotiation with my father. Asks to take me into Indentures with him and his son for wand-making. My father wasn't keen. Wanted something more ... intellectual. But those with the knowin' of wand wood are rare. Spent my summers at Ollivanders learning the rudiments of wand-making. Had my Articles of Apprenticeship ready to sign as soon as my NEWTs were taken." Idris dropped his eyes from Snape's and looked at the brazier for a long time. No-one broke the silence until he himself did. "Course, never even got to OWLs. Got bitten. But I remembered those summers learning the rudiments of the craft." He pulled the stave he had been whittling from his robe and passed it to Snape. "I make wands for those in the pack who are wandless. Not as refined as the wands you and Remus Lupin have, or indeed, my own Ollivander wand." He looked at his own wand lovingly. "But powerful enough to channel our folks' magic."

Snape cast _Engorgio_ to a stick on the floor with the rough stave, and it channelled his magic perfectly, although without the warmth of the wand's choice. "I thought," said Snape, "that the wand chooses the wizard?"

"That's right," Idris nodded and then smiled knowingly. "but a wand made for a wizard will choose that wizard. I start making a wand with a wizard or witch in mind – it follows the wand chooses that one."

"Extraordinary," Snape whispered, looking at the slender worked wood, without finesse but suffused with power, as he held it up to look closer.

Idris stood suddenly, shaking the dregs of his tea from his tin mug. "Right. Perhaps we can practise some sparring while we have both of you here. What do you say?"

Lupin and Snape agreed, and Idris announced it to the pack. There were some mutterings of dissension from some about being tutored by Snape, both because he was a wizard and some because he served another man.

Idris turned on those and growled at them: "I have fought Seth Moore, a powerful wizard who can help us against Greyback. He is the mate of a Were. Do not disgrace this pack by being disrespectful to another's mate who offers help to us." The dissenters fell silent and fell into place with the rest of the pack.

Lupin caught Snape's eyes. _I believe there's more to his history than we know,_ Lupin surmised as he started pairing off werewolves for the first duelling lesson.

_Agreed,_ Snape thought. _I also think that if the Dark Lord knows or finds out that Idris hears Wandsong, I have no doubt he will not rest until he recruits him ... or kills him._

* * *


	59. Connections Made

Over the following week, both men set about their tasks.

Snape worked throughout the week to put together potions that were simple in ingredients, method and equipment. He had devised a muscle relaxant, nutrient supplements and pain relief from the ingredients that Angharad had identified and that would not be too pungent and nauseating for a werewolf to mix and brew. It was a testament to their extraordinary connection that, before Snape had left to return to Hogwarts, he had entered Lupin's mind and leafed through memories of Lupin's potions lessons from their school days to catalogue the difference in smells between his own well trained olfactory senses and those acute animal senses of the werewolf. Together, they had painstakingly gone through every ingredient that Snape had considered for the simplified brews, and then through the mixes and stages of brew as those scents changed. Snape had been shocked by the nauseating or even narcotic effect of many smells or fumes that he himself had always considered innocuous or even rather pleasant. He altered his recipes accordingly, using his encyclopaedic knowledge of ingredient modification and substitution as he went along. They had sat together mentally cataloguing in this manner for hours, oblivious to Idris watching them at the door of the round house.

Lupin, whilst consolidating his position of trust with Idris to train the pack for combat against Greyback and his henchmen, began to piece together more of Idris's story from his conversations with him, and he shared it with Snape when they met in the farmhouse prior to going to the pack the following weekend. The story that emerged so moved and shocked Snape that he told it in its entirety to Dumbledore on his return, some of which Dumbledore knew, but certain, shocking details, he had not.

Dumbledore told the tale.

"It had become quickly apparent that the young Hufflepuff could hear Wandsong. I needn't tell you that this magical gift appears perhaps once a century. Within weeks of joining the school, he had listened avidly to every one of his House mates' wands, making notes for himself of his new discoveries. His aptitude for Wandsong was prodigious. This gift was as much the subject of gossip and conjecture amongst pupils and staff as the discovery of Harry Potter being a Parselmouth had been, but without the Dark connotations.

"Garrick Ollivander, a Ravenclaw prefect at the time, was told by Headmaster Dippet of young Lydiard's ability, rather than spotting it himself but, yes, he told his father. Gervaise Ollivander did indeed approach Vereticus Lydiard to request his son in Apprenticeship. At first, Lydiard was furious. He wanted his son to follow him into politics, certainly not into an artisan trade. It was actually Headmaster Dippet who convinced Lydiard that Idris's ability was so rare that it would be a great deprivation to the wizarding community to refuse to allow him to learn the craft from Ollivander.

"Then, as you know, Idris worked for Ollivander each summer. Gervaise himself told me that the boy's talent was extraordinary and he learnt about the craft alarmingly quickly. He worked there for four summers and other holidays, and studied all he could about wand lore before the attack that Turned him in the new year of his OWL year.

"Now, you have told me that a prefect at the time had tried to inveigle Idris to steal wands from Ollivander. When Idris refused, this boy tricked him into a meeting in the woods where Vargulf was waiting to Turn him at the full moon. This I did not know. What little I knew about his fate, I found out from his best friend at school who hounded Lydiard for information. I will come back to him. First, I want to tell you about Vargulf.

"Vargulf was every bit as violent and depraved as Greyback, if not more so. He too would lie in wait for his prey to Turn them at the rising of the moon. He was the first werewolf I knew of who could force his body to Turn outside the cycle of the moon and who would bite in his human form. He was powerful and every inch a Dark creature. Eventually, Vargulf was defeated at a great old age, and killed by another werewolf – one of his very own Turning ..."

"Greyback?" Snape interjected with a fascinated whisper.

Dumbledore nodded. "Indeed. And so the world turns. Greyback it was who turned Remus, as you know, even then trying to recruit for his own werewolf army from the children of those who offended him or latterly his master." Dumbledore sighed hugely.

"The year that Idris Lydiard was bitten by a werewolf was the year that Mr Tom Riddle was a prefect at Hogwarts." Dumbledore paused to allow this information to sink in. Snape's eyes narrowed as he took in the revelation.

"It wasn't until the first wizarding war that I found out that, even as a teenager, Tom had recruited Vargulf with promises of a wand (that Idris was to steal) and various other freedoms to do his bidding. I believe Tom thought, once Idris refused, if Vargulf Turned him, Vargulf would force Idris to make his werewolves their wands. I never found Idris, and I assume, neither Tom nor Vargulf were able to." Dumbledore exhaled heavily. "We missed so much Darkness under our very noses at Hogwarts with him. His demeanour of this intelligent and gracious student was almost perfect. I had some reservations about him, but I should have watched him more carefully than I did." Dumbledore sighed heavily again, Snape presumed with the weight of guilt for what could have been prevented.

"We know now, of course, that he had unleashed the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets and created the revenant memory in the diary. I shouldn't be shocked he was already in league with a Dark creature such as Vargulf." Dumbledore shook his head and pursed his lips as he thought on it. Snape recalled suddenly the book he had been perusing in the library before Black had attacked him. He should find it again. As he was thinking it, a question nagged at him.

"You told us that Idris's father told everyone his son was dead. If you had found him, what would have happened?"

"You will think me quite foolish, Severus," Dumbledore said, quietly, his expression wistful. "I planned to adopt him. That was my plan. I had ... much to atone for personally. If I could save and help a child from a Dark and painful future, then I was determined to do it."

Snape could not hide his shock at this revelation. "Adopt? You? Albus Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore laughed softly. "I was a mere stripling in my late fifties at the time! There are family quarters here. Idris was a kind and talented boy. It was wrong to put him out of the wizarding world." He sighed. "Had I found him and adopted him, I have no doubt I would have been pilloried as a madman. I am used to this." Dumbledore looked over his glasses, his eyes amused and then he became more serious. "Perhaps, I could have shown the wizarding world how their perceptions of werewolves were wrong. But it was not to be."

Snape was nothing short of stunned and it took some time for him to assimilate the enormity of what Dumbledore had hoped to do. Then his other question came back to his mind.

"Who was the friend who alerted you to what had happened to Idris? Garrick Ollivander?"

"No, no. The significance of this will not, I believe, be lost on you. Idris's best friend at school was a pureblood he met on the Hogwarts Express in their first year: Mr. Alphard Black." Dumbledore leaned forward, his tone low and confidential.

"There was a reason why Walburga Black blasted her dear brother from their family tapestry. He, like his nephew, not only befriended entirely unsuitably - a half-blood Hufflepuff, but then tried to move heaven and earth to find that friend once he had become a half-breed: conduct most unbecoming the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black, I think you'll agree. A dogged loyalty." Dumbledore smiled a small, but sour smile. "Walburga Black threatened to expose the secret of the Lydiard family if young Alphard insisted on pursuing his search for his friend. At that time, there may still have been hope of finding him. We all acquiesced to her wishes in the hope that Idris could be found and brought home without publicising his Turning." Dumbledore looked distant for a while, then focused once more on Snape. "But he was never found. Young Alphard spent years after leaving Hogwarts looking for him.

"You of course are well versed in the resonances of this through the Black history. Walburga Black was nothing if not defensive of the Black ancestral name. I hope that perhaps you will understand that had I expelled Sirius, Remus's secret would have been published far and wide. Walburga Black would have seen to it. I did not, back then, see the deep wounds it caused you. I am sorry that I have not made my contrition for it plain. I was trying to save a boy in the way I had failed forty years before."

Snape regarded Dumbledore coolly, their eyes locking. Snape might even admit to himself that he could see now why Dumbledore had acted in the partisan way he had, but how did that make up for the terror he had suffered from that day onward? How did that make up for the utter worthlessness it had made him feel to be so disregarded? He could understand the behaviour now, but he did not think he could forgive it. Probably not ever. Snape was not a forgiving man.

* * *

"Oak and Welsh dragon heart string. Given to us by the mountain," Idris said, as he passed the finished stave to Snape.

"How so?" Snape asked quietly, rolling the delicate wand in his fingers with reverence as Lupin watched.

"I'll slaughter no dragons for my wands," Idris said stoutly. "There is a place that dragons go to die, high in Snowdon, away from prying eyes. With the blessing of the mountain, I take the dragons' hearts when they pass." Snape wondered what happened to the rest of the dragons' bodies, but thought he might commit some great solecism if he asked this man to add such to his Potions store. He held his tongue.

"Do you use any other core material?" Lupin asked as he now held the wand that Snape passed to him.

"Only one other I can get hereabout – unicorn hair. Not so rare." He gave the men a grim smile. "Don't have to wait a millennium to get it! Use the young cubs to collect it." Idris nodded his head to the young girls of the pack, the virgins who could approach the unicorns. "It takes me time," Idris said, "to make each wand, but it's a joy to do it for our young." Idris stood and scuffed the ground with his foot, his jaw set. "Greyback and his master want me for this reason – to be a wandmaker for werewolves. It cost me much to refuse him last time, but I'll not do it for murderers and strangers. It's only for pack." Lupin handed back the wand, and Idris wandered away to chide children who were playing roughly.

"What did it cost him?" Snape asked as he watched Idris leave. Lupin shrugged and shook his head.

"I don't know," he said thoughtfully. "But you can see why Albus hopes he will be a beacon for werewolves who want to stay with the Light."

"I certainly can. It also seems to me that the more I think about it, the more I cannot see who would put a wandmaker out of a pack if Idris wanted to cede his leadership to a new recruit somewhere down the line."

Lupin nodded, clearly thinking this over.

oooOOOooo

It had not escaped Snape's notice that the only werewolves who were there to learn to make the first of his potions and unguents were female. He took a deep breath. That there was some giggling had not eluded him either. He remembered when he had first started to teach at Hogwarts, he was barely twenty-one, and some of the NEWT students remembered him as a student. He had been nervous. Not of his subject, of course. There was no better exponent of the craft of Potions than he. He had no lack of confidence in that. But he did not like children. He didn't care if they were boys or girls: they were equally odious as far as he was concerned. He did not like being questioned. He did not like pranking, joking, teasing or giggling. In short, his idea of a perfect class was an empty one. He had quickly learnt to turn his acerbic tongue, bad temper and cold demeanour to good use. His reputation as an intimidating, unpleasant and unforgiving teacher was quickly earned and he fostered it and quelled the children within weeks.

And now here he was: back to square one, but hobbled because he stood before girls and women who had seen him intimate and half naked with his mate; knew they thought he "served" Lupin like a woman; knew that as a wizard, they considered him less than a wolf. He found himself exquisitely embarrassed and he was unable to summon his usual sarcasm to his defence because Lupin had asked him to try to be pleasant so his mission was not jeopardised. He thought that, at this precise moment in time, he hated Lupin, as his audience giggled and whispered about him behind their hands. He pinched the bridge of nose quite hard, with the sudden recollection that it was not his nose. It was a revelation.

Why should he care? He was not Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin House, Death Eater, spy, and the bat of the Hogwarts dungeons; he was Seth Moore, itinerant tutor and mate of a werewolf, who joined in the werewolf rut. He calmed down, ignoring the sniggers, and looked over to his left where Lupin and some other men of the pack were chopping logs. He didn't know why they didn't chop the wood with magic, although he suspected it was Idris's way of ensuring they built up their physical strength, but as he watched Lupin flex and wield the axe in a wide arc, he was glad they didn't. It was, he believed what Lupin would call, a very pleasant "visual". He smiled briefly and privately as his attention was called back by Angharad.

"I think," said Angharad, as she set out batches of ingredients on the rough hewn table in front of Snape, "that you should pay attention to what Seth Moore has to tell us. We've discussed this brewin', he and me, and it will help us and our old folk. We should all list and learn." She spoke kindly but Snape noticed that her gaze swept all of the onlookers, just as Idris did when he addressed the pack. She was Idris's mate, the alpha female, and Snape felt even more that he was being pigeon-holed in a submissive role.

So the brewing session, the first of a few agreed with Angharad, ground on, Angharad maintaining the decorum of the lesson by force of her status. He had promised Lupin to behave so he bit down any acidic comments leaving it to Anghard to deal with unpleasant comments and conjectures about his manliness because, he kept reminding himself, he was Seth Moore, and besides, he genuinely wanted to help. He also wanted to understand the ailments of the older werewolves so he needed to co-operate with Angharad and keep her confidence. He needed to understand the nature of their weakness as they got older so he could start to research how he would help Lupin avoid those weaknesses, and maybe – just maybe – broaden his horizons - and look for a cure.

Of course, many greater minds than his had tried and failed to find a cure for Lupin's curse. But had any, he wondered, been so greatly motivated by love as he?

oooOOOooo

"It was torture," Snape said, when the brewing session had finished. "You have finally cemented my position as your beta female," Snape huffed, his tone not quite as light as he had tried for.

Lupin wrapped his arm around Snape and led him to the roundhouse and they sat together on his bedding and Lupin kissed him.

"I'm sorry, my love, that you find it challenging. It's cultural for them. They just do not understand who or what you are." Lupin nuzzled at his neck and held his hands lightly.

"Most of the young unclaimed females fancy you!" Snape spat. "What on earth am I supposed to do about that?"

"I suggest, nothing, since they are not to my taste, as you know," Lupin said gently, still nuzzling at Snape's neck, drinking in his scent as if it were a muscle relaxant in itself. Lupin looked up and into Snape's eyes.

_When we are home, I will make it up to your bruised manhood, I promise,_ Lupin thought. _Sit in my mind with me._

Being with the pack meant Lupin and Snape did not have the type of sexual contact they were used to. The only time the members of the pack had sex was during the night-time rut. Nor did they indulge in other ways of pleasing each other. Both men missed it and Lupin had taken to inviting Snape to his mind, their only privacy now, and where they could experience whatever they wanted.

_Legilimens._

Snape always took his time to savour this place where none could encroach on their feelings for each other. Being here cradled and nourished him in Lupin's love for him, and made his heart swell painfully.

"I miss our time alone together," Snape thought. He felt Lupin's hum in the back of his throat reverberate pleasantly in his own body.

"I miss all the ways we make love, Severus."

"I wish to be lost in you," Snape thought longingly. It had been months since he had taken Lupin and he yearned for it once more.

"Soon, my love. I will be home soon. We will love as wizards, not wolves, soon."

The men sat for a while basking in the intimacy, Lupin's arms wrapped around Snape, as he held Lupin's chin in his hand, his wand aloft as they shared their connection.

"We could live a memory again, Severus. We'd both enjoy it." Snape heard the enticing warmth in Lupin's thought.

"Which?" Snape responded, desire pooling in his groin at the thought.

"Oh, we have so many." Snape heard Lupin's breath hitch in desire. "Our bonding night," Lupin thought definitely. "When you took me so beautifully. Let's revisit that together."

Lupin took Snape to the memory of that night upon the mountain as the phoenix song finished. Snape felt its song piercing Lupin's soul, already blissfully happy as he held his mate's arm, the bonding taken. He felt Lupin's passion as he kissed Snape and Snape had responded with passion, but such gentleness as made Lupin's heart feel like breaking. How tenderly Snape had undressed him, and how he had covered him with caresses and kisses in a way that spoke of such gentle love. Snape felt Lupin's emotions welling inside painfully as his love for Snape felt close to overflowing. He felt all of Lupin's physical pleasure at Snape's love-making, just as Lupin was now feeling his, but it was Lupin's emotions that blew Snape's mind with the intensity of the passion they held for him as Snape had attenuated his preparation of Lupin to drive his desire to a pinnacle of ecstasy, charged by the magic of the mountain, and he felt Lupin reaching that pinnacle and crying out to Snape to satisfy his yearning.

The sharing now was so powerful that both men were almost incoherent even in their mind voices as they felt their own charged emotions and those of the other, felt their own skin being touched by the other and yet feeling the other also. It was almost too much to bear when finally they recalled how Snape's forbearance had snapped hearing Lupin's wanton begging twinned with the accumulating magic and how Snape had thrust into Lupin's eager and ready body, and their mounting passions had driven them against each other, noisily and desperately, Snape's mind lost to the conflagration that consumed his and Lupin's bodies – the joy of their bonding consummation, layered and doubled.

They felt the intensity and joy of each other's orgasm as well as their own, a complete interweaving of their bodies and souls through their minds, and Snape once again wondered how it was possible, even with magic, to feel so completely immersed in and cherished by one's mate, as they came together on the shared memories, thinking their love and adoration to each other, before eventually kissing lightly and Snape leaving Lupin's mind softly and then cleansing them both.

At the doorway, Idris had watched the wordless exchange again. His brow furrowed trying to understand what passed between the men. This time, it was undoubtedly some form of sexual congress: that much was apparent from the scent of their acute arousal and climax, but the manner of it was something he had not seen before. Seth Moore had used the mind-reading spell on Remus Lupin and Remus Lupin had allowed it, welcomed it even. He didn't know much about the mind-reading spell, although he had always been adept at blocking it. He doubted he would trust anyone enough to enter his mind, let alone dwell in it as Remus Lupin clearly trusted his wizard mate.

Was it right for a werewolf's human mate to take a werewolf by his mind, if not his body? Idris's dominant wolf's instincts reared up against it. And yet, he saw the look in the men's eyes as they regarded each other when Seth Moore withdrew from Remus Lupin's mind: complete trust and deep love. He would need to think on what it meant, and he left the men as silently as he arrived.

Snape was lying in bed after a hot shower. It had been a draining day culminating in double Potions with the fifth year Gryffindors and Slytherins, which was always just too trying, but he consoled himself that it was only two more days before the end of term and then three glorious weeks without brats. Hardly any students were staying at Hogwarts this Christmas holiday, and no Slytherins at all. Dumbledore had given him permission ( _permission – the nerve!_ ) to be away. He and Lupin would spend it together and Snape was very much looking forward to it. He would spend the weekend with Lupin and Idris's pack and then Lupin would come home with him for Christmas and New Year – their bonding anniversary.

Oddly, Lupin wanted to spend Christmas at Spinner's End. Snape couldn't fathom why when the flat was so much nicer and, more importantly, so well protected. Lupin said he felt a connection with Spinner's End as the place of Snape's childhood – the place where Lupin so wanted Snape to be happy. Snape hadn't decided yet – Lupin had left the decision to him. It certainly did have some wonderful new memories from last summer.

Snape shifted in his sheets. Yes, wonderful memories, of one type or another. He smiled to himself. There weren't many places where Lupin hadn't given him wonderful memories, Snape snorted as he threw one arm over his head. He and Lupin had spoken earlier in the evening, but they didn't use the mirror or the bites to excite each other while Lupin was with the pack. When Snape wasn't with him, Lupin took look-out duty. Snape found he rather missed it, which also made him smile thinking how Lupin had changed Snape's whole outlook on physicality.

He found himself thinking back on that night at Grimmauld Place after Black had attacked him and how Lupin had practically consumed him afterwards. It was one of the strongest and most potent memories he had and he found himself thinking on it often now they didn't use the mirrors. He liked the way that remembering any part of that night with Lupin warmed him emotionally and set him alight sexually. He thought on it again this night.

_He merely had to remember the intense look on Lupin's face as he had Apparated them both to his room_ and Snape's cock grew and hardened against his own stomach. He closed his eyes and lightly ran his own finger around the tip of his cock and down his shaft as _he recalled how Lupin had pushed him against the chest of drawers as soon as they were in his bedroom and warded it and had stripped Snape without magic – needing the actual physical stripping motion as he had growled "mine" at Snape, grasping and biting at each revealed part of his body setting Snape's whole body on fire._ Snape's cock twitched at the memory and his groin flared again. He wrapped his fingers around his own cock and started to stroke it absent-mindedly, _lost in the recollection of how Lupin had kissed Snape almost violently and certainly as he had never kissed him before as he asserted his ownership of him, roughly pushing his fingers into him as soon as Snape's robe was open and Snape finding he was so turned on, he barely needed any preparation at all as he groin burned outwards across his whole body and his mind became thick with the fug of desire mixed with the thrill of the violence of Lupin's emotions. Lupin had ordered Snape to undress him whilst kissing and biting him fiercely, igniting his skin wherever he touched it_. Snape gasped at the memory and increased the pace of his stroke _as he recalled how he had struggled to undo Lupin's robe belt and the buttons on it as his hands shook with primal and pent-up desire_.

" _Hurry, Severus," the possessive werewolf had growled as one of his hands had fisted Snape's hair roughly as he kissed him as the other hand had encircled Snape's neck._ Snape couldn't recall if he was frightened at the time although _he remembered Lupin's thumb had stroked down Snape's jaw and settled on his Adam's apple_ and as he recalled, he swallowed heavily at the dryness in his throat, and ran his own thumb down his neck at the memory. It had been exciting. _His fumbling hands had finally managed to open Lupin's robe and push it off his shoulders, and taken Lupin's shirt off over his head. As his hands had made their way swiftly over Lupin's scarred chest and stomach to his waistband, Lupin had growled and Snape remembered he had thought he would come on that growl alone, his own cock had become so hard and his groin and gut spasmed tightly at the growl._

He was stroking himself even harder now at the memory _, recalling how he had got to his knees to take off Lupin's trousers and boots and seen his cock, as hard and large as it had ever been. He had wanted to take it in his mouth, even though he ached for Lupin to fuck him, but Lupin's hands grabbed Snape as soon as he was naked and lifted him, pushing him hard back onto the chest of drawers, one hand pushing one leg high over his arm and ramming his cock into Snape, grunting gutturally, as Snape's head fell backwards and he cried out, partially in pain as the small of his back was pushed uncomfortably into the sharp edges of the wood but also in desire as he was filled as he wanted to be, as Lupin held his hip hard with one hand, the other gripping his leg._

_He recalled the brutal pace Lupin set_ as his own hand now replicated it, his grip tight for as much friction as he could generate, _remembering how Lupin growled and grasped and kissed and bit as his cock thrashed into Snape harder and faster than ever in a possessive frenzy but unerringly striking Snape's prostate so colours blossomed behind his eyelids with the shockwaves of sheer pleasure_ , _Snape grunting himself with each deep thrust until he could hold on no longer and cried out loudly_ _and came hard_ just as he did now as his own hips bucked wantonly into his hand, _picturing Lupin looming over him as he followed Snape's orgasm with his own_ , _growling deeply as he came,_ as his back arched sharply and he felt the fierce spurts of his orgasm hit his hand and stomach, as he gradually eased his pace to drain himself as he heard his own blood coursing in his veins and his heart hammering in his chest and a satisfied smile slowly spread across his face.

He settled back comfortably into his bed, and cast a lazy cleansing charm. Without a doubt, Lupin was his drug of choice. The weekend couldn't come fast enough for him.

He had just started to drift off to sleep in a pleasant haze when the Dark Mark burned.

Snape leapt out of bed, shocked and weak and unsteady on his feet as he clasped his forearm in pain. He rushed to dress and then stopped abruptly. There was no way he could present himself to the Dark Lord in this state. He held his wand to his temple and removed the memory of that night as it was too vivid and near the surface because of his own enjoyment of it. He placed it in a phial in his bedside cabinet, smiling quickly as he did so. Some people kept sex toys in their bedside cabinets he knew. He smirked, he just needed that memory! He stood and took several deep calming breaths as he Occluded his mind and then found his mask, sending his Patronus to Dumbledore as he made his way quickly out of the grounds.

oooOOOooo

Snape knelt before the Dark Lord, concerned that he had broken his agreement not to call Snape in the week during term time. _What on earth was it that could not wait two nights?_ Snape wondered. Every Death Eater had now arrived and the Dark Lord was weaving in and out of them, pacing furiously.

"My Death Eaters!" the Dark Lord announced, spreading his arms wide dramatically. "I have news for you!"

Surely, Snape thought, he could not have obtained the Prophecy. He knew the Dark Lord had tried many different methods of manipulation, one of which had ended with one of the Order members under the Imperius curse and now serving time in Azkaban. He had not (as far as Snape was aware) attended the Ministry himself – for that's what it would take.

"I have forged a connection with Harry Potter's mind!" the Dark Lord sang triumphantly.

The assembled Death Eaters murmured their congratulations, many clearly confused by the tones of their voices as to what the import of this statement could be. Snape made sure his voice was clear and strong as he added his own congratulations, all the while his mind buzzing with all manner of possibilities, but he could not fathom how this could have been accomplished. The boy was mentally weak, that much was true, but he should have been shielded by the ancient wards of Hogwarts which allowed no outside intrusion. As his mind spun, he suddenly grasped the idea with startling clarity – he and Lupin had discussed it before – and how much did Dumbledore know that he would never discuss this with Snape properly? He needed that book more than ever – he would pick it up when he was next at the mutt's house.

That scar. The portal had to be that scar.

"My Lord!" Snape said silkily. "Tell us how you have accomplished this extraordinary achievement."

"It is a thrilling tale, Severus." The Dark Lord swooped around to face Snape, and spoke to him, and him alone. "But the accomplishment of it should not be trumpeted too widely. However, Severus, you will be instrumental to my plans for it," the Dark Lord said quietly and confidentially. Then he turned to the assembled company again.

"Stand, all of you!" Snape knew the Dark Lord must truly be happy: he had hurt no-one as yet, and allowed them to stand without their usual period of obeisance. The Dark Lord then took reports from the all the Death Eaters of their latest recruitment drives.

Macnair was now confident that the Giants were dedicated to the Dark Lord.

A total of fifteen vampires had now pledged to the Dark Lord's cause, including the powerful ancient Italian vampire, Infamia.

"You are to be congratulated, Thorfinn, on persuading such a powerful ally," the Dark Lord inclined his head and then turned to Malfoy. "And what of our bestial colleague, Lucius?"

Malfoy reported that Greyback had acquired another three packs but one in North Wales was proving elusive, and two others in the West Country were reluctant.

"Then they must be convinced!" the Dark Lord hissed malevolently. "Tell the beast to get on with it. And what does 'elusive' mean?" the Dark Lord snapped impatiently. "If this is the pack of Idris, I will not accept any kind of refusal!" The Dark Lord's anger was rising and he leant into to Malfoy menacingly. "Idris must be convinced without permanent harm to him. He is pivotal to my plans for the werewolves. If I acquire him, no feral werewolf will deny my call to arms. Impress upon Greyback, Lucius, that a second failure to recruit Idris _and_ his pack will be punished ... severely." Snape heard the imperative in the command and wondered how much the Dark Lord remembered of the story of Idris. It was clear he remembered the Wandsong but he wondered if he recalled ensnaring that young boy to that curse. The thought of a teenager planning the deliberate Turning of a class mate made his stomach wrench as he thought another fifteen year old who had almost done the same but with an innocent werewolf as his tool: Sirius Black.

"My Lord," Malfoy acknowledged the instruction, with a snap of his head. The Dark Lord then relaxed his rigid posture, still regarding Malfoy.

"How goes it with our dear Minister? Is he still wilfully blind to my return?" The Dark Lord stretched his reptilian visage uncomfortably into a smile that had no resonance in his red eyes.

"Fudge is delightfully obdurate in his denial of the truth, my Lord," Malfoy sneered, now on more solid ground. "His fear of Dumbledore deposing him is so great that even as his petty officials succumb to the odd well-placed Imperius curses, he refuses to see anything other than his own retention of political power and his need to plant disparaging editorial comment about Dumbledore and Potter," Malfoy smirked knowingly. "He is oblivious enough to be the author of his own ultimate downfall." Malfoy chuckled.

"How many have we turned at the Ministry now?" the Dark Lord enquired lightly, looking casually at his wand.

"I have five, Gibbon has three and Yaxley has three also. We are making good inroads, my Lord. Yaxley gets closer by the day to Thicknesse."

"Indeed, indeed. And what say you, Yaxley? How are our friends in the North Sea?"

"At your command, my Lord," Yaxley growled, throwing a glare at Malfoy for not allowing him to speak on his own account.

"Excellent! My plan for them shall shortly come to fruition." The Dark Lord swooped again in a circle, taking in each of his followers. "Severus, stay. The rest of you may leave." He waved a hand dismissively, their presence no longer registering with him. "Unmask, Severus, and walk with me."

As Snape removed his mask, he heard the disgruntled utterances of several of the Death Eaters cursing his favoured status. No doubt, the Dark Lord heard, but he cared not and Snape knew to place no reliance upon it. The Dark Lord alone would reap the benefit of the rivalries for his favour; he neither encouraged nor discouraged them, but he would be the beneficiary of them nonetheless.

"You know, Severus, how I have been thwarted in acquiring the Prophecy." The Dark Lord stopped suddenly, clenching his fist as he raised it as a sign of his frustration. "Every plan and person has failed. I must have that Prophecy!" He inhaled suddenly and deeply, and Snape felt the Dark Lord's magic reverberate with his anger and Snape gritted his teeth and braced himself for the curse to fall on him, but none came.

"Tonight, I decided to strike out on my own," the Dark Lord said, and Snape pulled up short in surprise.

"You went to the Ministry, my Lord?" he asked, momentarily stunned.

"Nagini went to the Ministry," the Dark Lord replied. Snape nodded in understanding, and they continued to walk. "A member of the Order was on guard outside the Department of Mysteries. Nagini wanted to bite him, but I restrained her. It was the blood traitor, Weasley. He awoke to curse us! Well, that meant I had no choice. I allowed Nagini to attack." Snape felt that the Dark Lord would not have had it any other way.

"And as I struck the blood traitor through Nagini," the Dark Lord chest expanded as he breathed deeply again and Snape knew he was savouring the remembrance of the primal power he had felt in the powerful, flexible, articulated body, "I felt another in my mind." The Dark Lord spun round at a speed Snape could hardly credit, his eyes, crimson with fury, boring into Snape's. " _My_ mind, Severus! No other has ever entered my mind!" he bellowed, as if the very idea simply could not be comprehended. "I struck at the blood traitor over and over again, enraged by his obstructing my goal, and enraged by that other looking through my eyes." The Dark Lord was pacing around Snape now, his mind clearly swirling, putting together his memories. "At first, I was not sure who it could be," the Dark Lord said quietly, stopping his pacing as he looked at the floor, then his face turned and he smiled his twisted smile at Snape. "A great wizard of power and strength, surely. It had to be. I reached out with my mind to find him; he who had sat behind my eyes and ..." the Dark Lord spread his hands wide, "as quickly as that, I was sitting behind his.

"The old man's office. I knew then it was Harry Potter. Not his strength, but mine! I saw the old man through the boy's eyes. So old. Weak. Decrepit," he sneered. "I made to lash out in the manner of Nagini and knew I could do it – I could control the boy to do it." He raised his clenched fists in triumph and whipped around again and his next words were spoken quickly, but not rushed.

"The old man will know by now, Severus. He will attempt to assist Harry Potter to block the connection. Without a doubt, he will look to teach the boy Occlumency. What I do not know is whether he will teach the boy himself," the Dark Lord stopped and turned to Snape, "or use you to do it." He turned again and started walking again as Snape's jaw snapped back into place. _Teaching the brat Occlumency! Even Albus surely would never consider such a cruelty._ "I believe I am coming to know how the old man thinks, Severus. He will keep Harry Potter at bay in case I possess him to spy on him." The Dark Lord chuckled. "Little does he know I have my own - very effective spy!" The Dark Lord laughed his high, unearthly, humourless laugh as he regarded Snape appraisingly, much to Snape's discomfort.

"I believe ... he will choose you for the task." The Dark Lord inclined his head to Snape, his smile almost a leer. "I will be relying upon you, Severus. You will be the one to break open Harry Potter's mind."

* * *


	60. A Doe amongst Wolves

Snape and Dumbledore sat in silence opposite each other, both contemplating how they could deal with the Dark Lord's order to Snape. Dumbledore straightened in his seat and took a deep breath.

"I cannot deny that Voldemort is correct: Harry must be taught Occlumency."

"But not by me, surely, Albus!" Snape interrupted, a hint of desperation in his tone. He knew full well, breaking open the boy's mind would be child's play for him, and he would have had no hesitation in doing so years ago, especially to one so antagonistic to Snape – it would even have added piquancy to it that it was Potter's whelp. Years ago, breaking minds had been Snape's speciality. It was a torture of pureblood origin so he had perfected it to burnish his Death Eater credentials. The Dark Lord had taught him well. It was the very simplicity of it that horrified him now: how easy, how so very tempting, it would have been to brutalise Potter's mind. Dumbledore held up one hand to silence him.

"He is also correct that it would be unwise for me to teach Harry. I saw Voldemort behind Harry's eyes as he took the Portkey to Grimmauld Place." Dumbledore looked at Snape urgently. "I saw the red eyes of Voldemort pass by in Harry's eyes. Do you have an idea how shocking that was?"

"Yes," Snape whispered, feeling his gut churn at the reminder. Dumbledore's eyes narrowed. "When the wolf fractured from Remus, I saw the beast in his eyes – twice fully, another time, he glided past. His eyes were orange." Snape had not thought of it for so long and he shut his eyes as his chest constricted in remembered fear.

"You understand then the nature that this possession could take. I dare not risk teaching Harry myself. The temptation would be too much for Voldemort. He could capture Harry's mind and use him to attack me and expect me to destroy the boy to save myself."

Snape could not deny that would tempt the Dark Lord, but there were alternatives. "Why not Remus? I have taught him to Occlude."

"Can he Occlude as thoroughly as you do?"

"Possibly not, but he will be able to teach the boy better than I can. You know Potter will learn nothing from me! He is almost as attached to Remus as he is to Black. I'm sure he could teach him."

Dumbledore ran his finger along his pursed mouth in thought. "The work Remus is doing with Idris's pack is vital. If he can consolidate Idris's trust in him, we will then have a safe haven for all werewolves to turn to who do not wish to join Greyback." Dumbledore stood and turned his back on Snape, one hand clasping his forehead in thought.

"It is not well known in the wizarding world how extensive the werewolf population is. There are a few werewolves like Remus who try – with varying degrees of difficulty - to live amongst us. Prejudicial attitudes and legislation have had the desired effect and chased most away into hiding. There are many, many others that run with packs, outcasts to our society. Few are as peaceful as Idris's pack. Many are of their kind are animalistic, but not violent for the love of it. Then there are those like Greyback - by far the majority, in fact – Dark by inclination or by breeding and training." Dumbledore exhaled. "If Voldemort can command those on the fringes – the edge of Darkness, but not yet Dark – he will have a formidable army of raw power whose hatred can be channelled effectively against us. After all, we have done nothing to endear ourselves to werewolfkind."

"You are saying Remus's mission is too important to give up to teach the boy Occlumency," Snape said, understanding the import, but angry nonetheless.

"Partly, but also, he is not the Occlumens you are."

"There must be others ..." Snape said weakly, knowing there was no-one on the faculty save themselves who possessed the required expertise.

"Quite possibly, but then ..." Dumbledore turned and his gaze pierced Snape's own, "how will you account to Voldemort for your failure to obtain the task?"

"I'm touched by your concern," Snape sneered, but he knew what Dumbledore said was true. He would be punished if he ceded the job to anyone else. Any way he looked at this, he would lose.

"We will need to make a decision before term starts in January."

oooOOOooo

After the pupils had left, Snape and Dumbledore had had long discussions well into Friday night about the next steps to be taken.

There was the issue of the Dark Lord's "friends in the North Sea": the Dementors. Dumbledore had not been surprised that the Dementors were at the ready to do the Dark Lord's bidding, but it was now a question of how and when they would be used. Once the Dementors broke cover, the wizarding world would be sent into a panic. How then would Fudge cover up the Dark Lord's return? Snape wondered. How long would the people remain ignorant.

Dumbledore had also wondered if Idris could now be told of Lupin's connection to Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix. Snape had told Dumbledore that there were two packs who were resistant to Greyback and Dumbledore wanted Lupin to approach them, once Snape had obtained the information on them from Wilkes. Snape was uncomfortable with passing this on. Whilst Lupin and he had had issues whilst Lupin had been with this pack, at least Snape had felt that Lupin was safe. He supposed he had become complacent.

oooOOOooo

Snape had met with Lupin in the farmhouse on the Saturday morning, free of school for three weeks, excited but concerned with developments. They had discussed what Dumbledore and he had discussed. The information about the Dementors and Dumbledore's plans for Lupin forced the issue.

Lupin resolved: this was to be his last weekend with this pack. It was time for Lupin to tell Idris who he was and, hopefully, secure his allegiance, and move on.

oooOOOooo

Snape and Lupin arrived at the encampment and Lupin made his way to Idris, and asked to speak with him. Idris led them to the roundhouse and the three of them sat.

"I have something I need to tell you," Lupin started. Snape admired how calm he was. Snape wasn't at all sure how Idris would react to what Lupin would tell him. Idris eyed Lupin, his eyes narrowing for the briefest of moments, then he rested his hands on his thighs and nodded.

"Go ahead then. Don't beat around the bush," he rumbled.

"I have been here with you over these weeks at the order of Albus Dumbledore." Snape saw a slight hike of Idris's thick brows. "He heads an organisation called the Order of the Phoenix. We re-formed this summer because of the return of ... he you won't name."

A muscle in Idris's jaw worked and his dark eyes flashed. "It's true then? He's back? I've heard it. Wondered, specially when we realised Greyback was trying to find us again?"

Lupin nodded. "I travel from pack to pack to try to persuade werewolves not to join Voldemort and Greyback."

Idris grimaced as Lupin said the taboo name. "No need to persuade us."

"I realise that," Lupin said quietly. "I stayed because this pack seems so strong, so different from the others I have visited. Dumbledore remembered you from school, remembered your gift for Wandsong and knew why Voldemort wanted you back then and now ... "

"Then _and_ now?" Idris interrupted with a question.

"The prefect who trapped you for Vargulf ..."

Idris's eyes became wide in understanding. "Tom Riddle is ... is ... him?"

"Yes," Lupin confirmed quietly. "Vargulf was his werewolf then as Greyback is now."

Idris's eyes screwed shut and his fists clenched and he breathed deeply for a long time. Snape and Lupin said nothing as they waited for the man. Eventually, his eyes opened and he nodded to Lupin.

"You know more?" Idris asked, his voice low.

"We do," Snape responded this time. "Dumbledore has filled in some of the gaps to the story you told Remus."

"I will want to know ... later ... when you finish telling me what you want to tell me now." Idris looked directly at Snape, and Snape thought his eyes looked haunted, for the first time. Snape and Lupin nodded.

"Go on then," Idris growled.

"Dumbledore hoped, as he knows – or rather knew - you, and now knows from me the type of pack you lead, that your pack could be what he calls a beacon of the Light – a pack of safety for werewolves who do not want to join Greyback's ranks but need the security of the pack."

Idris nodded. "Don't ask much, does he?" he grumbled. Snape smirked. _Just everything,_ thought Snape sourly. "Let me think on it."

"Of course," Lupin said gently.

"Tell me. Seth Moore – he really is your mate?"

"He is my mate, yes."

"What you do is dangerous, Remus Lupin. Do you normally take him with you into danger?"

"No. We were on Cadr Idris to spend the full moon together when you answered my howling. If you had not caught Seth's scent, I would not have allowed you to meet him, but not because of the danger. Seth is more than capable of looking after himself. But because our kind do not take kindly to his."

Idris nodded and looked at Snape for a long time.

"Since you're in the mood to tell me things, Remus Lupin, tell me about the mind reading spell you let your mate use on you when you think you're alone." Both Lupin and Snape were surprised by the question, even more so by the gentleness of the tone in which it was asked. When Lupin answered, his tone was measured and quiet.

"Seth is a powerful wizard. You know that now. He is skilled at mind magic. We share our magics – wolf and mind. It is how we express our love." Snape listened, wondering if Idris was taking any of it unkindly.

"How does it sit with you to allow him to take your mind, Remus Lupin?" Snape could see Idris struggled with the concept.

"He does not take my mind, Idris. I invite him in. We share our thoughts and our memories. It can be useful – like when Seth made those potions for werewolves – he could learn from my mind what smells we can tolerate, and what we can't. It also gives us privacy when otherwise we would have none. My mate is a wizard; he needs his privacy even if I don't – he will never be subservient to me. Nor would I want him to be."

Snape wondered if Lupin had gone too far as he watched Idris's bright eyes considering Lupin's declaration. He hoped not. He found he did not want the man to think badly of Lupin. Why he should value Idris's good opinion, he knew not. As Idris watched them intently, Lupin drew Snape to him by his waist and Snape slipped his own arm around his.

Eventually, Idris nodded. "Never seen the like of it before. But then, never seen a Were with a human mate before." Idris stretched his neck from side to side. "So Dumbledore wants to send rogues and ferals and lone wolves who do not want to join Greyback to me?"

Lupin nodded. "His beacon of resistance," he said with a small smile.

"Beacon of bloody resistance," Idris snorted. "So, that's why you were keen to show us defensive magic."

Lupin nodded. "And that's why I need to tell you the truth now. We know more of the allies Voldemort has been successful calling to himself and that he might send to assist Greyback. There are particular defensive spells, quite advanced, Seth and I need to show you. You need to be able to defend yourselves against Dementors."

oooOOOooo

"It should be all the pack – whoever is able to cast the Charm," Lupin said. A few more stragglers joined the pack in the clearing: twenty-seven adults, including some of the older Weres who could still walk and five of the older cubs. Only those too weak or too young did not join the pack, but watched on the perimeter of the large circle the pack made around Lupin and Snape.

"Most of you can cast a shield charm. I have seen you cast _Protego._ This is the same principle. It acts in its most simple form as a shield. In its complex form – what we call its corporeal form – it takes on the form of an animal – in our case, wolves – and the animal will chase down the Dementor. If we are successful, I will show you how to send messages with it too. A Patronus message will find the person you want, getting through protective enchantments, if necessary."

"Show us," Idris said, "and then tell."

" _Expecto Patronum_."

The large silver wolf sprang from Lupin's wand and prowled around the pack, many of whom whispered and cooed at its rippling luminescence. Lupin called it back with his wand, and then it dissipated.

"Seth Moore can do this too?" Idris asked.

"Yes," Lupin replied, "although his form is not that of a wolf. With wizards and witches, their corporeal form will reflect some aspect of their nature and it will be unique to them, in most cases."

"Show me, Seth Moore."

" _Expecto Patronum,"_ Snape whispered and the silver doe sprang gracefully from his wand and glided through the pack and away to dissipate.

Idris stood looking in the direction the doe had taken, and turned back, looking strangely affected by it.

"Begin, Remus Lupin," he said gruffly, and the whole pack turned expectantly to Lupin, who spoke clearly and slowly, each werewolf's attention focused only on him, as he walked around the pack.

"We speak an incantation. You have already heard it: _Expecto Patronum_. As you chant it, you must concentrate on a single, strong, happy memory. Each of you, find a memory that is so strong, just the thought of it makes you smile – so strong you cannot stop yourself." Snape saw with secret delight that Lupin's eyes flicked to him. "I don't need to know what your memory is, but if you want to articulate it to focus yourself, then do. Let's begin."

"My cubs," Snape heard Idris whisper roughly, his eyes finding a few of them within the clearing. "Never prouder, or so happy. _Expecto Patronum!_ " A huge wolf sprang from his wand. It didn't lope, or dart, or prowl. It stood its ground, the Alpha Patronus, ears forward, as if willing a Dementor to appear. Snape was stunned. The very first incantation and a powerful, fully formed corporeal Patronus. He caught Lupin's eyes, whose eye brows were raised in surprise.

"Excellent!" Lupin cried, with a huge smile.

Quite a few of others managed a shield form on the second and third time, whilst Idris produced his Alpha Patronus over and over again. Snape and Lupin started to go to each pack member to offer words of encouragement. Within the hour, each of the pack could at least produce a shield form, and quite a few had produced a silver wolf, and Idris was now patrolling along with Snape and Lupin.

"We could break for a while," Lupin suggested.

"We will only break when we have a silver wolf for every werewolf here," Idris growled. Snape could only admire his tenacity, his determination that each of his pack should master this defence. His comment was heard by all the pack, and each who had not so far produced a wolf redoubled their efforts.

It was another two hours before each and every member had produced its corporeal Patronus and was commanded by Idris to produce it over and over again until he was satisfied the charm had entrenched.

"Together," Idris barked and an assortment of vocalisations of the charm was heard and thirty two silver wolves erupted from wands, all different sizes and postures, some standing and some loping or prowling. Idris inspected them all from where he stood: a pack of silver wolves; a match for any amount of Dementors, Snape thought with some pride.

"And you two," Idris ordered, and Lupin and Snape produced their forms. Snape couldn't help feeling awkward as his sleek doe stood out from the lupine masses, but Lupin smiled broadly at the doe.

"She's so beautiful," he whispered to Snape's ear.

"Aye, she is that," Angharad whispered, standing nearest to them, looking at the doe then to her own handsome alpha she-wolf shimmering under the low winter sun, looking around at the other silver forms.

"Seth Moore. Does Remus Lupin's Patronus look like his wolf?" she asked thoughtfully. All the pack turned to Snape for his answer. Snape understood. None would know what they or their pack members looked like when they transformed as they didn't keep their human minds.

He considered Lupin's Patronus and smiled. He knew that wolf well now. "It's identical," he said warmly. There was silence for a while, then chatter erupted from most of the pack as they looked at their own and their mates' and their children's forms excitedly: an enigma unravelled – a revelation to each and every one.

Lupin draped one arm around Snape's shoulder as his Patronus dissipated with Snape's. "I think no more work will be done on this today," he smiled.

oooOOOooo

As if they all had some new toy, each pack member kept calling up its Patronus throughout the rest of day, for themselves or for others who asked to see. Snape and Lupin had watched from the base of an oak tree where they sat talking.

Angharad came and sat next to Snape.

"Can I speak to you, Seth Moore?" she ventured. Snape was rather startled, especially as Lupin got up and excused himself and went to talk to Idris.

"I wondered about your ... creature ..." she said.

"My Patronus," Snape corrected gently.

"Aye." Angharad smiled, her brown eyes warm. "I noticed that ... well, that she is a female."

Snape hadn't wanted to cast it in front of everyone. Who knows what they would think of him now.

"It doesn't signify anything," he said, more abruptly than he intended, and felt his face flush.

Angharad reached forward and patted his hand. "No?"

"It doesn't signify what you may think it does," Snape said, hoping he was not too curt this time.

"I know Idris doesn't know what to make of you and Remus Lupin, but I came from a pack with male couples. Some of them, the dominant wolf took a female beta to breed, but a few undertook the ritual. Do you know of the ritual, Seth Moore?"

Snape nodded, starting to feel more like the prey of a werewolf than a mate, and sure he must be looking quite ill now. He was certainly starting to feel queasy.

"Your ... Patronus ... is the mother of the forest, Seth Moore." Then shockingly, Angharad touched Snape's stomach. He restrained an automatic flinch at the trespass on his body. Hers was a matter-of-fact, entitled gesture – the touch of a matriarch to one of her pack. She pressed his navel. "It will be harder for Remus Lupin to deny himself cubs than you know. I see him watching you. How he loves you." Angharad looked over to Lupin talking to Idris. "It's a hard thing for a werewolf not to have his cubs, Seth Moore." Her brown eyes flicked back to him. "Your Patronus signifies," she said definitely and patted his knee, smiled and then left. He felt quite shaken as he looked at Lupin again.

It wasn't that he minded that the doe was female. It was that those who saw it didn't realise it didn't represent femininity, or a caring nature. His Patronus in its way represented as much of his own curse as these wolves' did. His curse was his betrayal of his friend that directly led to her death and his Unbreakable Vow to Dumbledore that he would do anything required to protect her son. It was the night of her death that he took that vow and that was the night his Patronus had changed. He had been distressed at the sight of it: the female version of James Potter's.

" _Of course, you're quite wrong," Dumbledore had said mildly. "You knew Lily well, what a strong personality and capacity for love she had. She cast her Patronus first. James's Patronus and indeed his Animagus form followed her Patronus."_

" _Should I not then be a stag also?" Snape had complained. Dumbledore had looked amused._

" _The vow you have made to me is one of protection of a child for his mother's sake. I think the Patronus is … appropriate ... in remembrance of that mother." His old, dry hand had patted Snape's. "It signifies nothing else, but it signifies much."_

oooOOOooo

The pack had retired to the roundhouse, but Idris, Angharad, Lupin and Snape remained outside, sitting around the brazier with a flagon of Angharad's home-made cider.

Snape told them the tale of Idris that Dumbledore had pieced together. Neither Idris nor Angharad had said much, but had listened intently. Snape noted the increasing sadness in Angharad's eyes, and Idris's dark eyes seemed almost fathomless by the time Snape had finished recounting the narrative.

"Lydiard," Idris said, his voice deep, like a subterranean rumble. "Haven't heard it said out loud for so long." He closed his eyes. "And you say you knew my friend. My school friend, Alf?" he looked up at Lupin.

"I only met him briefly when I was a schoolboy myself. He was my friend's uncle."

"Your friend was a Black? One of the Darkest families? He knew you were wolfkind?"

"Yes, Sirius Black, your friend's nephew." Lupin smiled.

"I knew Alf had tried to find me. I heard from other wolves. I often wondered what happened to Alf, but no good would have come of letting him find me. Sometimes, you need to let go. No point in trying to be part of what hates you." His gaze pierced Lupin, but Lupin held it firmly.

"I was taken by Vargulf to his pack but I escaped before my first transformation and made my way home to Snowdonia. I told my father what had happened to me and he put me out of the house. There and then. With the clothes on my back and my wand hidden, and that was all I had. And then ..." Idris inhaled so deeply that his chest expanded hugely before he exhaled the breath again. "Then he drove me off his land. I must have been a pitiful sight. I begged. I remember I begged him not to drive me away. My own father. But the look in his eyes. Filled with so much hate." Idris threw more sticks into the brazier, his haunted eyes reflecting the flames. "I wandered up the mountain. I knew I would transform the next night. So scared. I thought ... I don't know ... I think I thought I would die of exposure on the mountain and end my own suffering. Within hours, this pack had found me. Got my scent and found me and were my family from that day to this. Two of those who were in this pack then still live: Dai and Emlyn. We care for them still." He gestured to the roundhouse. "My first mate came from this pack. I have been luckier than I ever thought I could have been," Idris declared resolutely.

"You are Idris's second mate?" Lupin asked. It made sense, Snape thought. Looking at Angharad, she could only be in her thirties, and Snape had seen Idris had sons older than she.

"I am Idris's third mate. His first mate, Megan, died in the birth of the twins boys. There was no-one to perform the Lupercalian Section to deliver the boys safely."

"Section? Like the Muggle Caesarean Section?" Snape asked.

Angharad nodded. "The Muggle emperor of antiquity was delivered by a healer who knew ancient rituals including those of werewolves; for Lupercalia herself it was who invented the werewolf ritual and the excision for the male delivery."

Snape shuddered. He had got no further in his book on werewolves to look at how a child carried by a man could be delivered. He had become almost faint at the thought of it so had not read further. It seemed to him that Angharad was determined to make him confront this, but Lupin took his hand and patted it reassuringly, changing tack before Angharad could pursue male pregnancy further.

"And Idris's second mate?" Lupin asked.

Angharad cast her eyes down sorrowfully as Idris then looked up from the fire.

"Bronwen was my second mate. It was fifteen years before I Claimed another after I lost Megan. Bronwen she was. During the wizards' war, she was taken by Greyback as a hostage against me submitting to him. I didn't submit, but I told him I would fight him in the proper wolf manner. If he won, I would submit. If not, he would release Bronwen." His voice thickened and faltered. He stopped and stared into the fire. After a long silence, Angharad took up the tale.

"They fought, before both packs in the wolf way. Those scars across Idris's face are from Greyback. It was a bloody and vicious fight but Idris defeated him." Angharad flicked her gaze to Idris, but he still glared into the leaping flames. Snape knew what was to come, but it still brought a lump to his throat to hear Angharad's hushed tones. "Greyback reneged and slaughtered Bronwen before he and his pack retreated. Like a scavenging mongrel!" she spat.

So, Idris had fought and defeated Greyback. Snape knew that the Dark Lord remained angry that Greyback had failed to persuade Idris's pack before, but he wondered if the Dark Lord knew of his minion's previous physical defeat at Idris's bare hands. He wondered if there was a way of _letting_ him know.

"Riddle is responsible for every tragedy of mine," Idris growled. "You tell Dumbledore, I'll be his damned beacon."

* * *


	61. Dark Tidings

They left the pack the following evening, having successfully taught a good half of the pack how to send messages with a Patronus. Snape had also suggested that Lupin send a Patronus to Idris to introduce any new recruit or pack if he was successful in sending them to him. Snape had no doubt that it wouldn't be long before Greyback heard of Lupin's recruitment plans and would be sure to try to infiltrate the pack. This would be their security measure against any of Greyback's affiliates.

_Ever the spy_ , Lupin thought to Snape admiringly as he caught his eye.

oooOOOooo

Snape had decided that they would spend Christmas at the flat. He knew it would disappoint Lupin, who had taken a shine to Spinner's End in his own sentimental fashion that Snape found both endearing and incomprehensible in equal measure. The flat was safest. It was under the Fidelius – none but Dumbledore could visit them – no Black, no Death Eaters – no-one. That's just how Snape wanted it. He had barely had Lupin to himself for weeks on end, Lupin being either with the pack or at Grimmauld Place.

They had arrived at the flat and Lupin decided he was more pungent than fragrant after so long with the pack, and ran them a bath. Snape found a half full bottle of Firewhiskey and two glasses and placed those by the bed, turning the bed clothes down, ready for them, then followed Lupin into the bathroom, in keen anticipation of bathing them both clean and making love in complete privacy. Just thinking of it made his pulse race.

Lupin was already immersed in the deep bath when Snape entered the steamy room. Lupin crossed his arms on the side of the bath and leant his chin on them. "Severus. Undress slowly for me." His smile could really be quite wolfish, Snape thought with excitement as he stood to face Lupin and Lupin ran his fingers down the air, unbuttoning Snape's robe slowly. Snape peeled the two sides from his shoulders to let the robe drop on the floor, watching Lupin's face - Lupin's eyes that watched Snape's body constantly – watching for what he hadn't seen properly for weeks, as Snape took his shirt over his head to Lupin's audible sigh and then pulled his own trousers off, as slowly as he could without feeling foolish. Somehow, the admiring way Lupin looked at him made him feel anything but foolish. Naked now, and very aroused, he stood before Lupin who held out both hands to him to help him into the large bath tub. As Snape stood in the bath, Lupin got to his knees, stroking his hands up the sides of Snape's legs to hold his hips until Lupin rested his head against Snape's stomach, making his flesh tingle gorgeously.

"Oh Severus," he sighed. "I'm so pleased to be home with you." Lupin looked up into Snape's face, looking down on him and stroking his hair, and then feathered his stomach with kisses and nips, licking around his navel, making Snape feel weak at the knees, as he pulled Snape onto his knees to face him as they kissed gently, their hands tracing the other's back as they kissed more passionately and their dominant hands each found the other man's cock and grasped it and stroked sensuously but not too roughly as they kissed harder, pressing their bodies together, Snape's groin now on fire as his mind unfocused in heady desire as he started to press Lupin back into the scented bath, impatient to touch Lupin as he had not touched him for so many weeks.

CRASH!

"Not possible!" Snape hissed, as both men immediately came to their senses and disengaged and leapt out of the bath, snatching their wands from their clothes and, heedless of their nakedness, crouched as they crept noiselessly into their sitting room together each scanning the room opposite to the other, casting revealing enchantments, until they heard further rustling from the kitchen and each threw Stunning spells in the direction of the noise. There was a small thud as someone hit the tiled floor.

The men ran in to discover the intruder, and Lupin groaned as he reached the kitchen first, Snape bumping into Lupin as he stopped so suddenly.

_Rennervate,_ Snape cast.

"Master Lupin and Professor Snape!" Tippy squealed, throwing her long bony hands to cover her eyes. Both men realised why she hid and jumped back out of the kitchen, as Snape Summoned their trousers and they both hurriedly donned them.

_Who knew house elves blushed?_ Lupin thought at Snape, both men flushing uncomfortably dark red tones themselves.

"Tippy," soothed Lupin as he entered the kitchen again with his hand outstretched, "Tippy, it's okay. It's all right. We didn't expect to see you here. We're sorry we Stunned you."

"Why would her masters not expect Tippy?" Tippy looked through her fingers to check the view was safe and then uncovered her face slowly. "Tippy is her masters' house elf, Tippy's masters are home for their holiday together. Of course, Tippy would be here." She was now beginning to look affronted as got to her feet ungracefully, straightened her Hogwarts tunic and her bow.

"Why that's wonderful, Tippy," Lupin said. "We'll be … just … I ... " Lupin floundered suddenly and Snape smirked realising that Lupin was trying to find a way for the both of them to get back to the bathroom.

"Master Lupin and Professor Snape were bathing, yes," Tippy nodded her head, somewhat impatiently. "Tippy was going to start her masters' dinner so take no notice of Tippy. Tippy is sorry she knocked the table and disturbed her masters. Back to the bath." She made a shooing motion at them with both her hands, leaving both men flummoxed. "Shall Tippy re-heat the bath for her gentlemen?" she said brightly, when she realised they were still staring at her.

"No, no!" Lupin said rapidly. "We'll be fine." The men wandered back to the bathroom and Lupin closed the door. Before he had the opportunity to do so, the door locked.  
"Did you do that?" Snape shook his head, still stunned, with the vestiges of the heavy flush in his cheeks.

"Tippy?" Lupin whispered, his eyebrows raised as he started to chuckle. Snape shrugged and then felt himself start to laugh, and they both started to laugh harder, Snape thinking of them both of them leaping naked on the poor little house elf and how she hid her eyes.

"She said dinner ..." Snape suddenly realised. "It's hours until dinner." Lupin laughed even harder now.

"House elves are trained to be discreet. _We're_ just not trained in having one around. I don't think our house elf believes we are monks, Severus," Lupin managed to say through his laughter as he started to pull down Snape's trousers.

And just as Snape closed his eyes with pleasure at Lupin's gentle touch on his chest and stomach, his eyes sprang open and he grasped Lupin's shoulder. "She won't punish herself, will she? For making a noise?"

Lupin looked surprised, and then smiled. "No, I ordered her never to punish herself when I gave her that ribbon. And you know she can't disobey our direct orders." He pressed his lips to Snape's chest once more. "Now, please, Severus." Lupin waved his wand over the bath to re-heat it. "I want to be clean … so I can be utterly filthy with you!"

oooOOOooo

Amazingly, they managed to bathe but not have sex although they kept getting so close, touching each other in all the ways that had been denied to them over the weeks. But each time it was Lupin that stopped them, much to Snape's mounting frustration. As soon as they were dry, Lupin grasped Snape's hand and led him to the bedroom.

Lupin got to the bed and shuffled into the centre and pulled Snape on top of him.

"I believe," he said softly, "someone was complaining of bruised manhood." He pulled Snape's head down to him to kiss him as he opened his legs under Snape's body and wrapped his legs around Snape, now so on fire that every small movement of Lupin's made Snape ache more profoundly as he returned the kiss, savouring Lupin's soft lips and enticing tongue, leaning his weight on his elbows as he ground his hips into Lupin's, rubbing their cocks together, making himself gasp.

His mind was heavy with thick desire, already painfully on the verge of orgasm since Lupin had taken them back to the bath. Every nerve jarred, screeching to take the welcoming man under him as he ground against his skin.

No, he didn't think he could take it slowly, no matter how hard he tried to contain himself, as his hand snaked under his own body, stroking Lupin's skin on his soft inner thigh and then between Lupin's legs, which moved up to wrap loosely around his waist at his first touch, as Lupin whispered encouragement into Snape's mouth.

"I've missed this so," Lupin murmured, and then gasped and arched his back sharply when Snape's fingers entered him gently then more urgently as Snape fought himself not to push himself into Lupin even though his whole body burned to. Lupin's breathing became more rapid, in time with Snape's questing fingers, groaning loudly as Snape stroked his prostate, and kissed and sucked Lupin's stretched neck until Lupin begged for Snape to take him as he pushed onto Snape's fingers.

He only needed to beg the once and Snape guided his too hard cock to replace his fingers. Snape had waited so long, been Lupin's mate for the pack – now he wanted to take Lupin so desperately – to feel his tight arse grip his cock and feel him writhing under Snape. He thrust straight into Lupin, who arched violently and cried out "Yes!" as Snape drew a deep breath to stop himself coming too quickly as the hot friction drew on him sharply and his cock and groin burned ever brighter, making him groan.

He sighed Lupin's name as he started to roll steadily into Lupin, who tightened his hold around Snape's waist with his legs, bracing his arms above his head to push himself towards Snape as Snape pushed himself into Lupin, creating such delicious friction as made both men groan with pleasure. Lupin angled himself slightly so Snape hit his prostate hard. Lupin cried out again, clenching on Snape hard, repeating it until it made Snape's head buzz as his hips snapped forward harder and he increased the speed, his body demanding more as the heated pleasure starting building inside uncontrollably as they both bucked erratically until Lupin came fiercely in Snape's grip and then Snape's orgasm exploded from him, ripping a hoarse cry from his throat. He couldn't bring his thrusting under control just yet and pushed out until his body gradually slowed of its own accord, his ecstasy ebbing and fading as he kissed Lupin's face, who moaned beautifully with each intermittent draining thrust until Snape was utterly spent, and he lowered himself onto Lupin's chest, his hands slipping behind Lupin's head to cradle it as Lupin dropped his own legs, wrapping his arms around Snape's waist instead.

Snape seemed to be able to do no more than sigh Lupin's name over and over again as he kissed him softly, all his pent up frustration expunged and his wounded pride salved.

"I love you too," Lupin murmured, with a tender smile.

* * *

They went separately to the Order meeting at Grimmauld Place, Lupin arriving first, and Snape arriving with Dumbledore half an hour later, as they had arranged with Dumbledore when he called the meeting.

The main business of the meeting was the attack on Arthur, but Dumbledore would not be drawn on his thoughts about Potter's dream. Snape thought this was a mistake. Speculation would now be rife amongst the Order members. Molly reported that Arthur was doing fairly well, although there was difficulty healing Nagini's bite. The family and Potter would visit again on Christmas Day. Dumbledore asked Lupin to escort the family and asked for one other volunteer. Moody volunteered.

Snape seethed that Dumbledore had done this to him once again. Just arranged for Lupin to do things, never once - not once - consulting or asking him. And Christmas Day! He looked up to Lupin swiftly.

_I didn't know!_

Snape knew Lupin didn't, but he saw the smirk on Black's face and wanted to wipe it off himself, but bit his tongue instead. He always seemed to have to bite his tongue lately.

At the end of the meeting after the various other reports, Lupin reported to acclaim his success with Idris's pack and told the tale as it had been pieced together. The others had left or retired for the night, leaving only Dumbledore, Snape, Lupin and Black. The three were about to leave when Black stopped them.

"You know, I've been thinking about this Idris…" Black raised his wand and cast, " _Accio_ Alphard's mementoes." The men at the table waited and eventually a slight whooshing noise was heard and an old and tatty cardboard shoe box flew into the kitchen and into Black's waiting hands. He brushed the lid with his hands and muttered an incantation. "My dear old mother undertook one of her demented purges of my uncle's things, but I managed to hide this shoebox of some of his things and I kept it under enchantment in my room." His hands shuffled through the oddments in the box and pulled out a stack of wizarding photographs. "I remembered when he told me about his school days, he always used to talk about this best friend he lost, this special friend who was so 'gifted'. At least now I know what 'lost' meant. Here ... here..." He looked at the back of the photo and then passed it to Lupin. "Never married, Uncle Alphard," Black commented. "Always wondered ..." Black's voice trailed off as he investigated the contents of the box, lost in his own reminiscences of his favourite uncle.

_There they were. Two teenage boys, Snape guessed at fourteen, but probably fifteen. One Slytherin and one Hufflepuff, by the Black Lake, standing together with their arms around each others' shoulders, laughing. The Slytherin is almost identical to Sirius Black at that age: tall, aristocratic and handsome with black hair a proper wizarding length past his shoulders; the Hufflepuff is not quite so tall but broader, but his shaggy hair is jet black and his eyes are dark and merry, ruggedly good looking to Alf's aquiline handsome features. Alf turns as they laugh and plants a kiss on Idris's cheek. Idris grins, pleased at the kiss._

Snape and Lupin shared a look of understanding. At that age, when sexuality was still being explored, doubtless these boys had loved each other: Snape could see it in their eyes. Whether that would have become something more as they got older, no-one could ever say, but, Snape thought, it explained Alf's years of searching and Idris's interest in Lupin and himself; his forgiveness of their difference that he didn't quite understand; perhaps even his look of sadness at the doe.

oooOOOooo

"But he loved each of his mates, that was obvious," Snape said, pulling off his boots as Lupin poured the tea Tippy had brought to them.

"Doesn't stop him loving his female mates, because he loved another man once. Perhaps he likes both." Lupin shrugged. "Perhaps, when he was taken into the pack, there were no other men like him, so he ... well ... fitted in. Doesn't mean he couldn't find a mate. I told you – our urges are very strong – I can't see a werewolf being solitary if he stayed with a pack. It's too sexually charged. Sooner or later he would Claim a mate."

Snape nodded. "Could you ... would you ... I mean, have you ever ...?"

"Severus Snape!" Lupin laughed. "The master of the spoken word! Always so tongue-tied when it comes to sex." He threw himself onto the settee next to Snape and pulled him into an embrace. "Yes, I have had sex with women. It was quite enjoyable. But I have always preferred men," he said emphatically. "It's irrelevant now – now we're bonded." He nuzzled into Snape's neck. "You surely must have at least experimented?"

"A couple of times when I was much younger," Snape said quietly. It wasn't really a conversation he wanted to have and was sorry he'd asked the question. His two times with women had been disastrous and he'd absolutely hated it. He couldn't understand how a man married women three times if he was like Snape. Perhaps, he had been more fluid - like Lupin. Perhaps, Snape thought, each of those mates was a true friend, like Lily. The thought pulled him up. Would he have been different with Lily? He'd always wondered – one of his liaisons with the fairer sex had only been made tenable by fantasising it was Lily – although he'd felt desperately guilty afterwards. He was sure one couldn't change one's nature that way, but he'd always wondered if he could have subdued his nature to love Lily.

_So much nonsense to even think on it_ , he thought to himself as Lupin placed a cup of tea before him, as he sat back down again and then wrapped his arms around Snape's waist and nestled his face in Snape's neck and hummed his contentment. Nothing could compare to this, Snape thought as he stroked the side of his face against the side of Lupin's - even just this made his heart sing.

oooOOOooo

Christmas Eve, when Snape had awoken to Lupin's gentle attentions that made him stretch like a cat with pleasure, he thought briefly that he could smell pine needles, but as that made no sense, he ignored it as he wrapped himself around Lupin and fell into a deep and passionate kiss until he was oblivious to everything but his husband, including the rustling noises of the elf busying herself in the sitting room with an eight foot Norwegian fir tree, as she trimmed it with Conjured tinsel, baubles and bows that sparkled red, gold and green amongst the warm golden pixie lights.

She lit the fire in the sitting room hearth, placing elfish charms on it for the faint aromas of cinnamon, chocolate and tangerines. She admired her work with her bony hands on her hips and then snapped her fingers and all presents wrapped and labelled for this house were transported to sit under the tree. She nodded with satisfaction and made her way back to the kitchen to start her masters' breakfast. They would be ready to eat soon, she thought.

oooOOOooo

Snape had to admit that he felt a frisson of pleasure when he saw the tree in the corner of their sitting room and Lupin break into a broad smile and go to look at it, rather than the breakfast already laid out for them. Snape saw Tippy watching from the kitchen door, thinking she wasn't seen, hoping her tree was successful. He joined Lupin looking at the tree and they sat down and looked at the presents under them.

He had no idea how Tippy had found them. There were his for Lupin, Lupin's for him, theirs for Tippy. There were the usual seasonal tokens from Minerva and Dumbledore for both of them. There was also one large gift, wrapped in Gryffindor colours. He turned over the present, clearly a set of books, and read the tag.

_Harry,_  
Merry Christmas!  
Sirius & Remus

He flinched as he read it. Why should he care? It's not as if he wanted to give the brat a present. But neither did he want his husband's name with Black's as if _they_ were the couple. His face must have been a picture, because Lupin squeezed his shoulder.

"We needed to pool our resources," Lupin said, smiling gently. "Sirius's galleons and my footwork and choice."

"What is your choice?" Snape asked, oddly embarrassed to have been found out in a fit of pique.

" _Practical Defensive Magic and its Use Against the Dark Arts_." Lupin butted his head gently against Snape's.

"An excellent choice," Snape said roughly, and coughed to clear his throat. "I would expect nothing less," as he caught Lupin's lips and put the boy's present back under the tree.

oooOOOooo

Every time Snape made love to Lupin, Snape felt they drove the wolf just that bit further back, each time exorcising the remaining bestial nuances from the gentle man under him. It was early Christmas morning, even though the new moon had now waxed for a couple of days, Lupin had not yet sought to re-take the reins of their love-making and Snape was sure Lupin wouldn't do so until he was certain Snape was confident, both in himself and in Lupin fully once more. Snape never failed to be amazed by Lupin's understanding of Snape's insecurities and that he indulged him so. He never failed to be amazed that Lupin loved him at all.

They lay together, Snape covering Lupin, as they both gasped to regulate their breathing as Snape stroked Lupin's smiling face. Nothing could make this Christmas better for him, even though Dumbledore had tried to ruin it by insisting that Lupin spend the day at Grimmauld Place, partly to show his presence, but also to guard the Weasleys when they visited Arthur at St. Mungo's.

Once they had both showered, Tippy had served them Lupinesque proportions of smoked salmon and scrambled eggs with truffle shavings and Buck's Fizz, and Lupin had tucked in with relish.

"Remember, you're supposed to have breakfast at Grimmauld Place," Snape reminded him as he ate his own breakfast at a more sedate pace.

"I shall have a second breakfast, and first and second Christmas dinners. I think I'm quite lucky really," Lupin said happily.

"My husband, the hobbit," Snape jibed, but unbidden, he pictured Lupin having cold, hungry and lonely Christmases after the loss of his friends and before he'd come to Hogwarts and it brought a lump to his throat and he stroked a thumb gently across Lupin's cheekbone. He wished very much Lupin was not going out today but he supposed Dumbledore had been right: it would be expected and it would maintain his cover. But Lupin could've been under cover, couldn't he? He didn't have to be _there_ \- with Black – and Potter's brat. It wasn't fair. He took deep breaths. He was behaving like a child. If Lupin knew his thoughts, he would be so disappointed in him.

After breakfast, they had got their presents from the tree, calling Tippy to the tree first. Lupin gave her their present. The shriek she emitted on receiving a brightly coloured parcel Snape swore wouldn't need to be much higher to qualify as ultrasound.

"It's not clothes!" Lupin rushed to say, realising Tippy might misconstrue a parcel with material in it.

"Not ... not ... clothes ... Master Lupin has said," she reassured herself, and then her long fingers picked at the Spellotape and she opened the paper to find exquisitely embroidered bedding: a pillow and a quilted coverlet, house-elf sized. She gasped hugely.

"But these are so beautiful. Too beautiful for a house-elf," she whispered as her bony figures traced the embroidery in awe.

"But they are house-elf sized," Snape said. "They were designed for you."

"For Tippy! Designed for Tippy!" Tippy whispered. "Thank you, oh such kind magical gentlemen!" She hugged her gift to herself and twirled with it.

Snape noted with some discomfort that her large eyes were brimming with tears of gratitude, but, fortunately, Lupin recognised the imminent emotional display, and guided Tippy to the kitchen with her present, telling her how good house-elves always deserved tokens of gratitude. Once Lupin had settled Tippy, he returned to Snape and they swapped their own presents.

Lupin opened his first present containing a collection of twentieth century poets that Lupin had talked about often, although he only had a few of their works, ("Wonderful! You remembered!") and a fine, charcoal grey winter cloak. He held it up against himself, stroking the soft but heavy wool. "It's beautiful, Severus. I don't believe I've ever had something new of this quality. Certainly, I have never had a new cloak. It was always hand-me-downs."

"Second hand for me too when I was a child. How did you bear it? I never could." Snape said, remembering how the mis-matched Muggle clothes his mother put him in made him a target for practically every bully in Spinner's End including his own father.

Lupin smiled – that smile that Snape could barely look at without wanting to take the man in his arms. "I was a werewolf child. I had a far greater shame than the patched clothes I wore." Snape's face coloured brightly as he cursed himself for his own crass insensitivity but Lupin caught and squeezed his hands. "My parents spent all their money on scouring the world for a cure for me. Clothes had no value other than a covering." He pulled Snape to himself and kissed him hard. "Once Voldemort is defeated, you can dress me like a peacock. If it gives you pleasure, it will make me happy. The only thing I wear that matters to me is this" He grasped his own circlet on his upper arm. "Anything else is just trimmings."

Last year, Lupin had presented him with the bonding circlets they both now wore. Snape felt that was his continuing present – day in and day out for the rest of his days. He needed nothing else, but Lupin had bought Snape a pair of handsome dragonhide gloves to replace his that were almost threadbare, but so comfortable he had not thought to replace them, and an antique volume of William Blake's works that Snape swore he had never let on that he wanted, although he had often stopped at the antique Muggle bookshop that was around the corner from Diagon Alley, and had looked at it longingly. It appeared to Snape that he truly was not the only spy in this couple.

They kissed gently, but had no time for more. It was eight thirty now and Lupin was due at Grimmauld Place for breakfast by nine. Snape wrapped Lupin in his Christmas cloak and new woollen scarf from Minerva. _I'm like a mother hen,_ Snape thought with mild disgust, but he couldn't help it. If only he could wrap Lupin up against everything, not just the bitter cold. He passed Lupin the present for Potter, and they kissed their farewells as Lupin Disapparated at the edge of the Fidelius for Grimmauld Place.

Snape shut the door against the cold and went back into the sitting room, which now seemed so large and empty save for the Christmas tree, twinkling in the corner. It's not as if Christmas meant anything to Snape. It didn't. Once he went to Hogwarts, he grasped at the opportunity to stay over the Christmas holidays with both hands, and never looked back, for there was nothing to look back upon. The poverty of his family life emotionally meant any presents, such as they might be, were given without care or attention. It all seemed rather pointless. There was certainly no good will to all men in Spinner's End.

He wanted to sneak to Lily's every year. Lily always invited him, but he always refused. He could not bear to admit just how bad his home was, even at Christmas when his father would rail at his mother because the pub was only open for two short hours at lunchtime and not in the evening. It meant that he would be at home getting drunk, rather than at least being out of the house for the evening. It was the worst of both worlds. Snape used to imagine what it would be like at Lily's. He suspected it would be like a story book: pine needles, cinnamon, chocolate, tangerines and a warm crackling fire. _Just as Tippy had done here,_ he thought with a brief smile. But he knew even back then that Christmas was for family – not for interlopers, like Severus Snape.

So why wasn't Remus, his family, with him today? _Damn Dumbledore._

He threw himself in his armchair, his brow dark and furrowed with temper. Tippy appeared with a mug of tea and then brought him the first volume of Blake. He stared after her as she walked in her ungainly fashion back to the kitchen. He put the book down and followed her into the kitchen out of curiosity. She had clearly pulled out some bedding from a small, unused cupboard.

"Is this where you sleep, Tippy?" he asked. "I thought you slept at Hogwarts."

The little elf jumped slightly and then gave him a look that he suspected was not unlike that which he cast upon errant first years. "When Tippy's masters are both home, Tippy sleeps here or in the small cupboard at Professor Snape's house in Spinner's End. When it was only Professor Snape, Headmaster Dumbledore said Tippy must sleep at Hogwarts."

"I suppose he thought I'd chop you up for potion parts," Snape said wryly.

Tippy sniggered. The house elf actually sniggered. "Headmaster Dumbledore said Professor Snape did not like to share his home, but if Master Lupin was with Professor Snape, he would be nicer."

He must ask Dumbledore how this house elf managed to be so cheeky.

Snape got on his hands and knees and looked inside the cupboard and frowned. "How do you sleep there? Don't you like to stretch out during the night?"

"If a house elf is not assigned a nest to sleep in, she must find herself the smallest place out of her masters' way to occupy," Tippy recited. Snape turned to look at her, she having appeared under his arm to look at the cupboard also. He wondered if there was a house elf manual, or if there were just rules, passed down from generation to generation. _What a thing to ponder!_ he thought, but certainly this crampt cupboard would never do. He looked about him.

"Tippy," he said, crawling backwards out of the small space. "We would like you to use the double cupboard over there." He pointed to large airing cupboard that housed assorted linens, but had an inordinate amount of floor space compared with the little cupboard that Tippy had chosen.

"Oh, Professor Snape!" the elf gasped with something Snape suspected to be like elf rapture as she clasped her hands together. "But it is far more room than Tippy needs! It will be like having a palace!" She walked in, looking around in wonder. _Well, hardly,_ Snape thought, but smiling at her happiness as she cast powerful cleaning charms on the space so that even the never-dusted floorboards in the cupboard shone as if waxed.

"It is such a kindness!" she trilled as Snape started to pass her scant belongings and bedding to her as she laid them out with care, and then took her Christmas bedding from him with something like reverence. He recalled how she had cleared and cleaned and decorated his parents' bedroom so he had somewhere decent to care for Lupin. This hardly repaid that he thought, but he didn't know what more to do, as Tippy crooned her pleasure with her new sleeping arrangements and then shooed him out of the kitchen so she could start her Christmas dinner preparations.

It was only noon, but his nest-building with Tippy had calmed him down and he returned to his armchair and book, feeling more relaxed and settled down to an afternoon with his preferred mystic poet in a volume with plates of Blake's own extraordinary illustrations. As Christmases went, it wasn't so bad. At least, there were no children or Dumbledore. He smirked.

The Dark Mark burned.

The book fell from his relaxed hold in shock as he swore and grasped his forearm. He blinked back tears of pain and then grabbed the book from the floor and threw it on the chair as he strode to the bedroom for his robe and mask.

"Tippy!" The house elf rushed to his side. "Tell Headmaster Dumbledore when he is alone that Profesor Snape has been summoned."

"And Master Lupin?" the little elf asked, her eyes wide with apprehension.

"No," Snape said quietly, his disquiet growing. Lupin would not be alone for a long time yet. "Tell him when he returns if I'm not back." Snape rushed out of the flat and Disapparated to the Dark Mark.

He Apparated to the Dark Mark, back to the musty old manor house. He was the first to arrive. Well he would be. He was surely the only Death Eater on his own on Christmas Day.

"Severus! The first to arrive. Well done," the Dark Lord leered as he whispered. He had forgotten that the Dark Lord always called his Death Eaters on Christmas Day. He had always done this before he fell, and Snape had always been the first to arrive, he remembered sourly.

He knelt as he waited for the others, reassuring himself that perhaps this meeting would see him escape without torture for being the first to arrive, as the Dark Lord paced impatiently in front of him.

"Severus, why have you not begun your lessons with Harry Potter?" the Dark Lord hissed.

Snape's glimmer of hope winked out.

"My Lord," Snape said, trying to keep his voice even, "the boy left the school on the night of the attack to be kept at the Order's headquarters. I have proposed myself to the old man and he has agreed, but not until the new terms starts ..."

" _Crucio!"_

Snape screamed as he was felled, his nerves caught alight with searing agony as the Dark Lord Levitated his convulsing body.

"Did you not impress the urgency upon the old man? Hm? Use all of your not inconsiderable powers of persuasion to keep the boy at the school?" the Dark Lord enquired, almost courteously as he cancelled the spell and Snape fell to the dusty parquet floor.

Through his haze of pulsating pain, he noticed the herringbone pattern of the flooring, seemingly pronounced in his vision. He knew that presaged his loss of consciousness. He could not afford to do that and he fought for consciousness as he dragged himself back to a kneeling position, his breathing noisy and rough. He just noticed that all the others had arrived now. This time the last to arrive would be reprieved. He would be the choice object of torture today.

"I have been pushing at the boy's mind since I discovered the connection. It was clear to me you have not set about the assignment I set you. I am ... very disappointed," the Dark Lord hissed malevolently.

"I am truly sorry, my Lord," Snape managed to gasp out as he trembled all over, knowing his fellow Death Eaters were relieved that they were not the object of their master's scorn this day and, no doubt, quite a few would be revelling in his fall from grace. "Once the boy is back, I will be able to commence as you require ..."

"You have failed me, Severus!" the Dark Lord spat. "Three weeks you expect me to wait before you even try! _You_ expect _me_ to wait!" His wand carved upwards sharply.

" _CRUCIO!"_

Snape's body twisted and turned in the air as his bones and joints were pressed and pushed and bent to the point of breaking, agonising him repeatedly as he screamed for mercy.

The Dark Lord circled Snape's rotating, agonised form, his jaw jutting and his eyes crimson with fury, holding the spell longer than he had ever done, as Snape's scream slid into silence as his voice died away.

With a violent slash of his wand, the Dark Lord threw Snape's body to the floor, and he felt some of his bones break, but there was not enough breath to cry out anymore. He lay, convulsing on the floor, alive, but wishing he were not, this time unable to summon any strength to try to kneel once more. The Dark Lord knelt next to Snape and bent into his ear.

"Never – delay – acting – on - my – orders – again – Severus," the Dark Lord hissed slowly. Then he stood quickly and lost interest in him and began to ask for reports from the others.

Snape desperately tried to take in what the others reported. He could not afford to miss any information, no matter how irrelevant it might seem. One never knew what could constitute the key to any one of the Death Eaters' plans. But his pain was too great. He could feel his consciousness slipping away from him, no matter how hard he tried. His body wanted release from the agony in his nerves and, this time, it would not be denied.

oooOOOooo

He was vaguely aware of someone lifting his upper body into slim arms. Subtle fragrance. _Who?_ A female voice in a frantic whisper. "Hold on, Severus." _Narcissa._ He felt the squeeze of side-along Apparition then his body being laid gently on a settee. "I dare not stay. You understand. I'll come back tomorrow. I'm so sorry, Severus." _Scared._

The noise of a Floo flaring. He forced himself to open his eyes, although it felt as if they had been stitched shut over shards of glass. He forced himself to blink over the pain to try to focus. Spinner's End. Narcissa had brought him to what she thought was his home. _Kind._ He closed his eyes again and just managed to rasp one dry word before he blacked out again.

"Tippy."

oooOOOooo

As he became conscious once more, he realised he was in bed. In their bed at the flat. Tippy had done it. She had found him and brought him home. He felt the curse chasing across his body leaving searing pain in its wake, and the pain and aches of broken bones.

"Professor Snape!" he heard her call. He managed to turn his head slowly and painfully towards her voice. She stood on a stool next to the bed.

"Tippy has Professor Snape's potions, but Tippy doesn't know the measures and can't mend broken bones, and Master Lupin is not yet home. Tippy can't bring Madame Pomfrey through the Charm! Oh, Tippy is so sorry!" the distressed elf cried.

"What ... potions?," Snape managed to croak.

"Post-Cruciatus Potion," she said. _Clever girl,_ Snape thought disconnectedly, _to recognise it._

"Four drams," he gasped, and then felt her spell the potion into him, just as she had done for Lupin once, and Lupin had done for him. He couldn't smile, but the memory warmed him and almost immediately the coursing pains dulled somewhat.

"Pain relief potion," the elf said.

If Snape had been able, he would have tipped the whole flask down his gullet. Perhaps he should be grateful for his elfin nurse. "Five drams." If he'd taken the lot, he'd be unconscious for days, but he wanted to see Lupin. This way, he'd only be out for a couple of hours.

"Your bones, Professor Snape?" the elf whimpered.

"Master Lupin will do it when he gets back," Snape just managed to say as potion-induced sleep took him away for a while.

oooOOOooo

He had lain awake, in pain, some dull and intermittent, but most sharp and lingering as the potions wore off, for an hour now, the occasional tear of pain running down the side of his face as the curse still coruscated across his skin as he trembled in the bed. Tippy had tried to convince him to let her give him more potions, but he ordered her not to until Lupin came home. She'd spelled drinks of water into him, but that was all he let her do. She sat on her stool next to the bed, intermittently wiping his brow with a cold flannel.

Then his heart skipped a beat as he heard the front door slam.

"Severus! Where are you? I'm so glad to be home. I've had a hell of a day ... wait 'til you hear what Arthur's been up to ..."

"Master Lupin!" the elf cried across Lupin as she jumped off the stool and scampered away from Snape. "Come quickly! Professor Snape has been hurt by You-Know-Who and won't take his potions until Master Lupin comes home and sets Professor Snape's broken bones! Oh help, Master Lupin!"

* * *


	62. Expendable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes in bold from Chapter 24 of OotP are © J.K. Rowling

"Severus!" Snape felt his breathe exhale and tried not to flinch with it in front of Lupin.

Lupin was now at his side, and threw off the covers to inspect his injuries.

"Why ... why wouldn't you take your potions, oh Severus," Lupin whispered as he passed his wand shakily over Snape's body, Snape taking sharp intakes of breath with every visible tremor that ran over Snape's skin, shredding his nerves anew.

"Your wrist and shoulder – they're dislocated. I can do the shoulder, but – oh the wrist – I don't think I can - and your arm. Oh Severus – the bone is sticking out," Lupin almost whimpered. "That's too tricky for me to heal." Tippy measured out the potions and indicated them to Lupin, who quickly read Snape's manuscript labels.

"Yes, Tippy. Give those to Professor Snape now." Tippy spelled the potions into Snape and Snape started to feel the jagged edge of pain beginning to dull once more, but so did his other senses.

Lupin continued passing his wand over Snape. "Ribs too? God, Severus! Did he throw you like a rag doll?" There was a sob in Lupin's voice that twisted Snape's heart. He wished he could embrace him, desperately wanted to touch him and feel better. Then Lupin took a deep breath. "I can mend those, at least." He passed his wand over the shoulder and then three ribs and Snape felt them flare with the warmth of the healing charms and then the coldness that followed as the pain from those injuries receded. "There'll be bruising. Tippy, find the Bruise Salve and the Internal Injury Potion, please."

Snape heard the slapping of the elf's large feet as she ran to the bathroom to fetch it. He looked up at Lupin, who was running his hands softly over Snape looking for anything else he might have missed. Snape wanted to hold out his hand to Lupin. He wanted to kiss Lupin's hand that now cupped his cheek, but he was beyond weak, a prisoner of pain and potions. Lupin stroked his face. It set the flayed nerves under his skin on edge, but he didn't care. Lupin pushed away Snape's damp hair and he kissed Snape's forehead, crooning gently to him as Snape's overbright eyes stared at him, trying to fight the impending sleep.

As soon as Tippy had spelled the dose of Internal Injury Potion, Lupin turned to her: "Quickly, Tippy. Go to Headmaster Dumbledore. Tell him Professor Snape needs Madame Pomfrey to be invited here." The elf nodded and popped away.

Lupin knelt by the bed, holding Snape's other hand between his own.

"My love, I'm so sorry I wasn't here. So sorry." He rested his forehead against the clasp of hands. Snape wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault; it couldn't possibly be his fault, but instead he felt himself starting to drift between painful awareness and medicated oblivion, until he heard a faint pop.

Poppy Pomfrey bustled in and gently but firmly took hold of Lupin's shoulders.

"There, there, dear. I need to get to Severus please." Lupin looked up at Poppy and Snape could see the distress in his face and tears in his eyes.

"I've mended these three ribs, and this shoulder was dislocated, but I couldn't do the rest," Lupin said, his voice small with failure, as he wiped tears from his cheeks with his hands.

"Now, dear. Don't take on. I'm here now. Leave him to me," Poppy said, with a small squeeze of his shoulder and an understanding smile as she turned her attention to Snape.

"Come, Remus." Dumbledore stood at the doorway, his open arm indicating the next room. "Let Poppy minister to Severus now. Perhaps, Tippy can find us a nice pot of tea." The little elf was startled out of her own paralysis of concern in the corner, and she ran out of the room in front of Dumbledore and Lupin.

"Well, Severus," Poppy said, in her matter-of-fact tone, as her wand scanned his body, "I never thought after that Hallowe'en of 1981 I'd be tending your injuries from You-Know-Who again." She shook her head as her fingers gently moved to the broken radius bone protruding from his skin. "It will hurt, Severus, but only briefly, I promise." His eyes flickered upwards with the intense burst of pain as the healing charm pulled the bone back into place and knitted it with its welcome warmth. His eyes opened and he tried to relax again, trying to discern the words of the rumble of voices from the next room that seemed to be rising.

"Now then, this wrist ..." but her head snapped upwards as they both heard Lupin's raised voice from the next room.

"You knew? You knew Voldemort always summoned Severus on Christmas Day, and you told me to be elsewhere! Albus ... why would you do that?" Lupin shouted. Snape closed his eyes and relished it through his pain. "I could have been here and got him help straightaway. I don't understand ..."

"I'm not having this," Poppy grumbled under her breath as she bustled out of the bedroom door.

"That's quite enough, Remus Lupin!" Poppy ordered sharply. "I need to concentrate on my patient. I'm sure this can wait! And you, Albus, stop agitating him! You can talk about this later."

She returned, closing the bedroom door gently and smoothed down her pinafore.

"Now then," Poppy said quietly, "this wrist." Her finger gently padded around the wrist and then her wand followed the same course. "It's broken and dislocated, Severus. I'm going to give you more potion to knock you out."

"No," Snape gasped, "Don't want ... to be ... knocked out."

Poppy gave an impatient snort. "You don't want to be awake for this," she chided. "There's too much damage ..."

"No," Snape insisted breathlessly.

"Be it on your own head," she huffed, but her touch and expression were still tender as she cast the charm to mend the break, the warmth of the charm this time doing nothing to disguise the agony of the break moving against the dislocated joint and Snape spasmed with renewed agony and uttered a hoarse, dry cry as Poppy then quickly healed the dislocation, the second spell following speedily on the heels of the first with its warmth. Snape struggled to breathe as the pain of the breaks and dislocation receded so all that remained was the Cruciatus and the bruising.

"There," Poppy said. "Just Bruise Salve now and then we can see about making you take some more Cruciatus Potion."

"Sherry," Snape croaked.

"What's that?" Poppy said as she started working the Salve into and around his ribs.

"I smell ... sherry ... dry," he rasped, the faintest trace of a pull at the corners of his mouth, now his broken bones no longer jarred his body with every breath.

"Yes, well, I may have had a Christmas tipple, Severus. That hardly constitutes being drunk in charge of a patient. An impatient patient at that!" Poppy snorted, and she started to work the Salve into Snape's arm and shoulder. "I was just sitting down to a four for bridge with Albus, Minerva and Filius, I'll have you know. Nearly jumped out of my skin when this ... well ... disembodied bow appeared by the table." She snorted again. "Piece of work, your house-elf, isn't she?"

Snape managed a bit more of a smile. "Smart," he managed to say.

"Now, Severus," Poppy said, as she breathed in deeply, clearly expecting a fight. "I need you take your Post-Cruciatus Potion."

"No," Snape gasped again. "Remus ..."

"I can look after that," Lupin said quietly, from the doorway. "I can at least do that."

"Well, I don't see ... oh," she stopped short as if she had suddenly recalled something. "Of course, Remus dear." Her cheeks coloured a little, and tidied around the bed to cover her embarrassment. "I'll leave you to it then. I'll return tomorrow morning to check on you. After … well, when the worst of the tremens is over, see if you can eat something." She pressed Snape's hand gently and gave him a small smile and did the same to Lupin. "

"I'm sure Tippy will take care of them both on that score, Poppy. We should leave them now," Dumbledore said genially from the doorway now that Lupin had moved inside and ran a lone finger on Snape's hand, and he smiled a sad smile at Snape and then moved to usher out the two visitors.

Snape closed his eyes as they all left the bedroom and he heard murmured thanks and farewells at the door and two cracks of Apparition just after.

Lupin returned to the bedroom and took off his robe and boots and sat on the bed and leant over Snape, and kissed his lips as lightly as he could, pushing back his hair from his neck and then kissed the Claiming bite lightly at first before starting to tongue it and, with each brush of his tongue, Snape felt his senses dim further bit by bit, until he was lost to bliss.

oooOOOooo

When Lupin called Snape back, he was cradled in Lupin's arms against his chest and the pulsing of the Cruciatus had faded to little more than pins and needles. It was unpleasant, but by no means painful. Lupin kissed Snape's hair and tightened his embrace slightly when he realised Snape was awake.

"My love," he said, his voice hoarse. "How do you feel?"

"On the mend," Snape said stoically, his strength improving, but slightly breathless, "thanks to you." He held Lupin's arms with his hands.

"Good, for the chef has prepared a Christmas Day broth for you," Lupin said with a smile that was somewhere between amused and appalled. Snape's brows knitted. He hadn't even thought of Christmas since the curse struck him. Why would he?

"Does that mean my Christmas dinner has been liquidised?" Snape asked with some trepidation. One of the things he had particularly looked forward to this Christmas was _not_ having honey roast ham, turkey, topside of beef, several types of stuffing (sage and onion; chestnut; sausagemeat; garlic; lemon and thyme), chipolata sausages wrapped in bacon, potatoes: roast, mashed and croquette, carrot and parsnips wrapped in Parma Ham with a honey glaze and, not to forget, brussel sprouts.

With gravy.

_He had given Tippy strict instructions: roast goose and gravy, prune and apple sauce with roast potatoes and red cabbage and some vintage elf-made red wine. And nothing else. No, nothing. No._

" _Please let's have bread sauce, Severus!"_

" _Very well. No, nothing else. Nothing. No."_

It had been a hard-fought negotiation.

"Tippy would never just liquidise a dinner she had prepared!" the bow at the end of the bed squawked with indignation.

Snape twisted his head to Lupin. "Even our house-elf sees fit to terrorise me," he said wryly, still feeling remnants of the delirium of the Kiss, the relief of no longer have a body racked with pain and, he realised, the light-headedness of hunger. He had had nothing since their breakfast early that morning. Lupin chuckled as Tippy, bearing an inordinately large tray, hoved into view with a silver soup tureen that Snape was sure they did not own and suspected might have a Hogwarts crest upon it.

"Tippy had only done some of the preparation for Christmas dinner when Professor Snape was summoned and so waited until it was safe to cook," Tippy informed them as she Conjured lap trays for them both, with napkins and cutlery and a jug of water and then dished up two bowls of soup, with fresh bread rolls. "While Master Lupin was healing Professor Snape, Tippy went back to Hogwarts kitchens and used Hogwarts Christmas dinner leftovers to make the soup. It is turkey and ham soup."

"You see, Remus, my goose is not yet cooked." Lupin grimaced at the pun.

oooOOOooo

"What time is it?" Snape asked woozily, having dozed off after Tippy's admittedly very tasty soup. Lupin still had hold of him, but was now undressed and in bed with him.

"Still Christmas Day, but only just. Why?"

"I need to get an owl to Narcissa. She got me to Spinner's End. She said she'd visit me tomorrow. Obviously, I won't be there," he said, making to get out of bed, but Lupin held on to him and Summoned parchment, a quill and ink and a lap writing desk and helped Snape to sit up and he scrawled a quick note:

_I am safe. Stay where you are.  
SS_

He summoned Tippy to take it to Hogwarts Owlery to despatch it.

"Why didn't she stay with you? Try to heal you?" Lupin asked after Tippy had left.

"She risked a lot to get me home. The Dark Lord expects his – ah- examples to be left until they can make their own way home: it is part of our punishment. She didn't dare stay. I knew that. I called Tippy."

There was a long, dangerous silence, during which only their breathing could be heard.

"Are you listening to this? Can you hear yourself? How did you ever come to serve him, Severus? To make yourself slave to this ... this monster? Did you have no respect for yourself at all?" Lupin said quietly, his fingers of one hand pressing his temples.

Snape could not hide his distress as his eyes brightened but he turned to face Lupin.

"Do you think he was like this when I was first introduced to him? You think I am so lacking in self-worth? He was never kind or anything so mawkish. But he was inspirational, hypnotic, powerful. But he became this madman as his power increased. Once we were at war, and recruits were coerced rather than attracted, conscripted rather than volunteered – his attitude to his acolytes became more violent. I won't pretend however that there was a time that he was not violent – it was just –ah – not so frequent. Then he would leave us for weeks at a time and return looking less human and behave more viciously, as if his humanity were being sliced away piece by piece. By then, we were all in so deep, there could be no escape. We were still promised power, glory and riches, but it had also become a fight for our own survival. I can never make you understand how we were also expendable at that time. We were all pawns to the madman."

Snape had known this would come: Lupin's fear would become so great, his temper would fray and they would row. In a way, he took solace from it, but he hated to argue with Lupin when he felt so vulnerable. He knew after the fright, the recriminations would come for not keeping himself safe. He knew it was borne of worry, but what could he do?

"Why didn't you tell me he always summoned you on Christmas Day? I would have stayed – waited for you to return. Made sure you were safe." Lupin's voice was gentle now and he pulled Snape back into his arms, now facing him.

"I had not recalled it until it happened. I promise you I didn't deliberately keep it from you." Snape stroked Lupin's face.

"You may not have, but Albus remembered. I can't believe he didn't tell me. He should've told me."

"Albus doesn't think of the individual. He didn't send you to Grimmauld Place just to get you away from me, but to keep the image of both of us as solitary men and so you could be with your friend and his godson on Christmas Day and also to form part of Potter's guard to the hospital and he probably knew about the newly-Turned werewolf you spoke to. He doesn't miss much. It all feeds into his master plan."

Snape spoke matter-of-factly, although he had started to feel sickness rise in the pit of his stomach that Dumbledore _had_ remembered, but had discounted Snape's safety as being of any consequence. He tried to shut the feeling out. Sometimes, he couldn't bear to recall that it wasn't only the Dark Lord who saw him as expendable.

"Don't you understand? What if he'd used the cutting curse on you, like before? You could have bled to death! We should have stayed at Spinner's End. Tippy could have fetched Poppy to heal you straightaway," Lupin stated crossly, his voice rising now. Snape moved away so he could look at him full on.

"If we'd been at Spinner's End, and Narcissa had brought me any later, she would have discovered you there! If 'if' and 'and' were pots and pans, there'd be no need of tinkers." Snape shouted back.

Lupin looked startled. "I have no idea what that means!"

"Oh, something my Muggle grandmother used to say. Deconstruct it – it makes sense." Snape waved a hand angrily at him, looking away.

"But what's a tinker?" Lupin said, clearly frustrated.

"What's a ..." Snape rolled his eyes. "It was an old name for gipsies. Some gipsy men worked iron to make pots and pans to sell and to mend and they were called tinkers, hence ..."

"Oh, I see," Lupin said, brow still creased. "You just deflected me, didn't you?"

Snape huffed impatiently. "What it means is: we could discuss different permutations all day, but ultimately, it's irrelevant. I see no purpose in continuing. It is what it is. The fact remains, it is safest here under the Fidelius if we're together and here we'll stay." Snape said, his jaw now firmly set. If anything, every time he himself was injured, it stiffened his resolve to keep Lupin safe. The prospect of Narcissa catching Lupin at home in Spinner's End kept playing over in his mind and it made him shudder with its lethal consequences. Narcissa and he got on well, but she wouldn't keep such information from her husband, and her husband would fall over himself to discredit Snape with the Dark Lord, he knew.

oooOOOooo

Dumbledore and Poppy had called in the morning and Poppy checked on Snape and was impressed by his recovery and had given Lupin's arm a squeeze, Snape thought to show she recognised his responsibility for it.

After she had left, Dumbledore took a seat with Snape. Lupin was still angry and paced the room constantly as the two men talked. Snape was very aware that Lupin was feeling impotent and anxious. Yet again, Lupin felt wrong-footed by the man he trusted like a father, and his mate had been put at risk.

"I'm shocked he expects you to have been able to start lessons so quickly. Even if you begged me, I would not bring Harry back to the school early. So the question has to be whether you are in danger between now and the start of term?"

"The Dark Lord has made his example of me now," Snape said dispassionately as Lupin stopped in his tracks and stared at him in horror. "I believe I am as safe as I can be – until the start of term."

"So, in that time, we must formulate how we can make Voldemort believe you are giving him what he wants, without giving him anything of the sort." Dumbledore took a cup of tea from Tippy. "Simple, really. Will you be able to find out what you missed while you were unconscious?" Dumbledore asked lightly.

"Albus!" Lupin hissed in shock. Snape held up his hand to catch Lupin's and hold it.

"It is not a homework group, Albus," Snape said snidely. "No-one will give me their notes." He sighed. "I will get what I can from Wilkes."

Snape could see that Lupin was still standing, listening unhappily to the conversation. A diversion was necessary.

"Albus," Snape said. "Tell me about Tippy. She seems remarkably collected in stressful situations. Self-composed. I have never met a house-elf like her."

Dumbledore smiled and looked at Snape over his glasses. "There are, of course, as many levels of intelligence amongst house-elves as there are amongst people. Most don't bother to listen to their house-elves to know how capable they are, and not just in the realms of domestic servitude." Dumbledore took a sip of his tea

"When I decided to ask a house elf to look after you both when you bonded, I made sure I asked one of the elves I knew to be articulate, intelligent and efficient, knowing your intolerance of any ineptitude or whimsy." Dumbledore's gaze met Snape's. "Tippy seemed to work so well, you even called on her after. When you had to be on your own in Spinner's End, I assigned Tippy to you because Voldemort proved his capacity for viciousness had not dimmed and you might have needed help. Of course, house-elves have the ability to enter and exit those places we magical folk cannot, and to find their masters. These are some of their best kept secrets – or perhaps – some of their many talents that are so wilfully ignored! I had a feeling these would be useful to you. As it turns out, she has proved her suitability both in temperament and ability and, if I may say, developed quite an affinity with her masters. She is, I think, one of my more inspired choices."

oooOOOooo

The following days were remarkably quiet. There were no Order meetings and no Death Eater gatherings and Dumbledore managed not to send Lupin on any guarding missions. Snape and Lupin spent the time in quiet contentment with each other, each day Snape's body recovering more fully whilst Lupin's inflamed protective instincts towards his mate relaxed slowly, although he had now firmly wrested control of their love-making from Snape as the full moon approached.

Lupin declined an invitation from Black to spend New Year's Eve "with everyone" at Grimmauld Place.

"Bring the wife!" Black had said in his Patronus invitation. Snape sent a hex at the luminescent canine Conjuration, pointless though he knew it to be, so furious was he. Lupin had pulled him onto the settee with him to kiss him as his silver wolf sprang from his wand.

The silver wolf loped away to deliver the message: "Busy."

Lupin turned his attention back to Snape. "Sometimes, Severus, economy is preferable to verbosity when dealing in the subtle art of the put-down."

"Did you want to be with him? It is New Year, after all."

"No, Severus. We've had this conversation before. Your side is where I should be, especially on our anniversary."

There had been vintage champagne, asparagus and poached eggs with Hollandaise sauce, and a platter of seafood, all prepared and set out by Tippy for their anniversary and then she Disapparated to Hogwarts for the night.

They only just finished the starter, before Lupin took Snape to the floor. Dominant, but attentive, Snape lost himself as Lupin took him using every technique and act he knew would fulfil every desire of Snape's, leaving him exhausted and sated.

When they had calmed, Lupin wrapped his hand around Snape's upper arm, around the circlet. "We have to check how we've done with our Circlets," Lupin said, reminding Snape of his intentions for the Circlets when Snape had first noticed that they had filigree additions to them, even after the first night of bonding.

Snape wrapped his long fingers around Lupin's upper arm, and Lupin did the same. Snape traced the patterns now gracing Lupin's Circlet. Of course, he had noticed the licks and curls that combined to make ornate arabesque curlicues which had accreted to the Circlet before, but he had never just looked at it as a thing in itself. The curlicues had indeed covered Lupin's upper arm from above the elbow to cover the whole of the bicep, just as Lupin had boasted they would. Snape thought it was a beautiful record of how much they had loved each other this year – beautiful as well because it was identical on both of them. They remained silent for a long time as their fingers investigated the filigree patterns, relishing the manifestation of their bond.

More happy than he thought he could ever be, Snape Levitated the seafood and set it out on the table cloth on the floor with the champagne and, as they fed each other oysters, prawns and lobster, Snape wondered how their next anniversary could possibly better this one.

* * *

Following the full moon, Lupin and Dumbledore had agreed that he would visit one of the packs in the West Country that Greyback had failed with. Lupin and Snape had agreed that Lupin would not spend longer than a week, shorter if it became in any way obvious the pack was intransigent or worse: hostile. There were many packs to visit, and Lupin did not have the luxury of time. Once more, they arranged to speak by the mirror each night but this time, Snape was taking no chances. He had taken Lupin's ordinary belt that he wore with his usual patched robes to Dumbledore as Secret Keeper and he had enchanted the buckle.

"There," Dumbledore said, passing back the belt, "the incantation is _Porta ad domum_. It will bring Remus through the Fidelius of the flat. Let's hope he doesn't have need of it. Now," he presented Snape with what appeared to a small brass curtain ring, "I have charmed this to alert you if the Portkey is activated so you can tend to Remus, if required. Also, if Remus goes missing again, whilst Tippy is inestimably reliable, there may be good reason you cannot use her to find Remus so: the incantation is _Porta ad virum_. It will take you to him. Let us hope, it does not take you into danger. Use it wisely, Severus."

oooOOOooo

The pack on Bodmin Moor was theirs! When Lupin had got there, he found an Alpha so outraged with the behaviour of Greyback and his pack that he had welcomed Lupin and within days of discussing Lupin's proposals, he had pledged the whole pack against the Dark Lord.

Lupin had returned to the flat, elated and yet exhausted, took a bath and then took Snape to bed for Snape to make love to him; to return him to the world of wizards rather than wolves.

Flush with the satisfaction of their love-making, Snape was disappointed to have to leave Lupin, who was now sleeping deeply, to visit Grimmauld Place as already arranged with Dumbledore with his letter.

oooOOOooo

Snape had let himself in and made his way to the library. He had told Lupin about the book he had started to look at, but had forgotten about it following Black's attack on him and the aftermath. He intended to pick it up today and they would study it together when their time allowed. It might also give him some ideas to help him with the invidious position he'd been placed in by his masters.

As he scanned the shelves, he became aware of Black watching him. He did not try to hide himself and his wand was not drawn, so Snape did not draw his.

"Black," he said, inclining his head.

"Snape," Black acknowledged. "Back at the Dark section, I see."

Snape's first instinct was to ignore him or make some sarcastic comment, but his conscience told him he should make something of an effort at conversation, even though the thought of it galled him. Lupin had put him first over and over again. He had nothing to fear from Black and everything to gain from facilitating his husband's happiness.

"I had been reading a book – _Josephus Endor on Soul Magick_ – when ... that night," Snape felt his jaw muscle working at the unbidden memory but contented himself when he saw Black's face drain. "I was going to research your godson's scar."

"Oh," Black said, dropping his eyes to his feet. "Albus asked to borrow whatever I had ... he took all the books I had on soul and mind magic."

Snape exhaled in annoyance. This library had had an extensive collection and now these books had gone the way of the books from the Hogwarts Library – to Albus – never to be seen again.

"I see," he said shortly. It would mean another trip to Borgin & Burke then. "In any event, Albus has sent me to talk to Potter." He passed Dumbledore's rolled up parchment to Black. Black looked at it suspiciously and took his wand out to check it. Snape rolled his eyes and sighed heavily and meaningfully. He read it carefully, his mouth pursing. Then he dropped his hand to his side and stood uncomfortably as if deciding to what to do next.

"Did you and Remus have a good New Year?" Black asked, clearly trying to make conversation for the same reason as Snape had.

"Yes," Snape said, not wanting to tell this man it was their bonding anniversary. He knew Lupin had told him before and had assumed Black had chosen to ignore it when he issued his invitation that failed in its crass humour for New Year at Grimmauld Place.

"You managed to make it up after that rigmarole in November then? I wondered. What you said to him was pretty strong." Perhaps he had been just trying to make conversation, but Snape felt his blood boil immediately that Black should have heard _that_ conversation, as private as a conversation could possibly be, especially after what Black had _seen_ that night too.

"If listening at doors is how you get your pleasure, Black!" Snape snarled through gritted teeth, not wanting to be reminded how he had turned on Lupin and driven him back to the pack and wounded him so he neglected his Wolfsbane. If Black made one crack about what he had seen that night, Snape didn't think he could, or would want to, control his reaction. His wand hand twitched over his wand.

"If you don't want me to hear, perhaps a silencing charm! They're quite simple, you know," Black shot back. "But don't expect me to creep around my own house, Snape!"

Black strode out of the library. Snape inhaled deeply to calm his temper and then followed.

Molly Weasley was at the range ( _Where else?_ thought Snape) where she tended a huge stock pot with something superbly aromatic bubbling away inside.

"Hello, Severus!" said Molly, brightly. "Christmas holidays suit you. You're looking less peaky." Snape gave her a tight smile and had been about to respond when Black spoke, stiffly, still bridling.

"Molly. Would you get Harry please and then leave us for a while?"

"Of course, Sirius dear." Molly gave the stock pot one large stir and bustled off.

Black **and Snape** sat **at the long kitchen table, glaring in opposite directions** for what felt like a long time before the boy entered the kitchen **. The silence between them was heavy with mutual dislike. A letter lay open on the table in front of** Black **.**

' **Er,' said** Potter **, to announce his presence.**

**Snape looked around him**. _The boy's usual eloquence,_ he thought **.**

' **Sit down, Potter.'**

' **You know,' said** Black **loudly, leaning back on his rear chair legs and speaking to the ceiling.** Snape thought how childishly easy it would be to hex those chair legs so the man ended up on his arse in front of the boy to whom he so wanted to show off. _So very easy._ He restrained himself. **'I think I'd prefer it if you didn't give orders here, Snape. It's my house, you see.'**

Snape felt his face flush as the boy **sat down** next to his godfather **, facing Snape across the table.**

' **I was supposed to see you alone, Potter,' said Snape, the familiar sneer curling his mouth, 'but Black –'**

' **I'm his godfather, said** Black **, louder than ever.**

' **I am here on Dumbledore's orders,' said Snape, whose voice, by contrast, was becoming more and more quietly waspish 'but by all means stay, Black, I know you like to feel … involved.'**

' **What's that supposed to mean?' said** Black **, letting his chair fall back onto all four legs with a loud bang.** _So easy,_ thought Snape smugly. _His control is no better than his godson's._

' **Merely that I am sure you must feel – ah – frustrated by the fact that you can do nothing _useful_ ,' Snape laid a delicate stress on the word, 'for the Order.'**

**It was** Black **'s turn to flush. Snape's lip curled in triumph as he turned to** the boy **.**

' **The Headmaster has sent me to tell you, Potter, that it is his wish for you to study Occlumency this term.'**

' **Study what?' said** the brat **blankly.**

**Snape's sneer became more pronounced** at this confirmation of the much vaunted Boy-Who-Lived's magical ignorance.

' **Occlumency, Potter. The magical defence of the mind against external penetration. An obscure branch of magic, but a highly useful one.'**

Snape could almost feel the boy's fear rising. He could pick up the boy's fear of possession. _Perhaps he does have some understanding, then._

' **Why do I have to study Occlu- thing? he blurted out.** _Or not,_ Snape thought with derision.

' **Because the Headmaster thinks it a good idea,' said Snape smoothly. 'You will receive private lessons once a week, but you will not tell anybody what you are doing, least of all Dolores Umbridge. You understand?'**

' **Yes,' said Harry. 'Who's going to be teaching me?'**

**Snape raised an eyebrow.** _Does the brat think I am an owl, only fit for delivering messages on behalf of other teachers?_ Snape thought with mild affront.

' **I am,' he said.**

He watched his statement produce an almost electric effect on the boy who spun to his godfather **for support.**

' **Why can't Dumbledore teach Harry?' asked** Black **aggressively. 'Why you?'**

' **I suppose it is a headmaster's privilege to delegate less enjoyable tasks,' said Snape silkily. 'I assure you I did not beg for the job.'** _Unfortunately, my life depends upon it,_ he thought to himself with disgust. **He got to his feet. 'I will expect you at six o'clock on Monday evening, Potter. My office. If anybody asks, you are taking remedial Potions. Nobody who has seen you in my classes could deny you need them.'**

**He turned to leave, his black travelling cloak billowing behind him.**

' **Wait a moment,' said** Black **, sitting up straighter in his chair.**

**Snape turned back to face them, sneering.**

' **I am in rather a hurry, Black. Unlike you, I do not have unlimited leisure time.'** He met Black's stormy stare with a smirk, knowing Black understood just how he wanted to spend that limited leisure time with his husband, who had chosen Snape over Black. He knew the knowledge burned him.

' **I'll get to the point, then,' said** Black **, standing up. He was rather taller than Snape who … balled his fist in the pocket of his cloak over … the handle of his wand.** It would be just like Black to try to put on a show for his godson, and since Black had never learned to fight fair, Snape was prepared. **'If I hear you're using these Occlumency lessons to give Harry a hard time, you'll have me to answer to.'**

' **How touching,' Snape sneered. 'But surely you have noticed that Potter is very like his father?'**

' **Yes, I have,' said** Black **proudly.**

' **Well then, you'll know he's so arrogant that criticism simply bounces off him,' Snape said sleekly.**

Black **pushed his chair roughly aside and strode around the table towards Snape, pulling out his wand as he went. Snape whipped out his own. They were squaring up to each other,** Black **looked livid** and uncontrolled **, Snape calculating, his eyes darting from** Black **'s wand-tip to his face.** He couldn't fail to note that Black appeared to have no notion of reading a caster's intentions from his wand movements.

' **Sirius!' said Harry loudly, but** Black was intent on trying to prove himself.

' **I've warned you _Snivellus_ ,' said **Black **, his face barely a foot from Snape's** so Snape could smell Firewhiskey on his breath **. 'I don't care if Dumbledore thinks you've reformed, I know better –'** _Such a weak riposte – so transparently designed to denigrate me to the brat. Well two can play at that game,_ Snape thought angrily.

' **Oh, but why don't you tell him so?' whispered Snape. 'Or are you afraid he might not take very seriously the advice of a man has been hiding inside his mother's house for six months?'**

' **Tell me, how is Lucius Malfoy these days? I expect he's delighted his lapdog's working at Hogwarts, isn't he?'**

Snape's eyes narrowed. He knew what Black was referring to, even if it was completely over the boy's head. _Pureblood shit. Well, I have some news for you that won't be welcome, courtesy of your friend, Pettigrew's big mouth._

' **Speaking of dogs,' said Snape softly, 'did you know that Lucius Malfoy recognised you last time you risked a little jaunt outside? Clever idea, Black, getting yourself seen on a safe station platform … gave you a cast-iron excuse not to leave your hidey-hole in future didn't it?'**

Black **raised his wand** as Snape levelled his own to Black's face **.**

' **NO!'** the boy **yelled, vaulting over the table and trying to get in between them. 'Sirius, don't!'**

' **Are you calling me a coward?' roared** Black **.**

' **Why, yes, I suppose I am,' said Snape** with as much malice as he could muster – _such a perfect insult for a Gryffindor._

' **Harry – get – out – of – it!' snarled** Black **, pushing him aside with his free hand.**

At precisely the moment that Snape read Black starting to cast _Incarcerous_ and he himself prepared a shield charm, the **kitchen door opened** and Snape heard, **'Cured! Completely cured!'**

Arthur Weasley **and the other Weasleys froze on the threshold, gazing at …** Black **and Snape looking towards the door with their wands pointing into each other's faces and** the boy **immobile between them, a hand stretched out to each, trying to force them apart.**

' **Merlin's beard,' said Mr Weasley, the smile sliding off his face, 'what's going on here?'**

**Both** Black **and Snape lowered their wands,** looking at each other with **utmost contempt, yet the unexpected entrance of so many witnesses brought them** both **to their senses. Snape pocketed his wand and swept back across the kitchen,** seeing no-one else in his fury **. At the door he looked back** : he didn't want Potter using that fiasco as an excuse to assume the lessons were cancelled.

' **Six o'clock, Monday evening, Potter.'**

oooOOOooo

"Mmmmm, how did it go?" Lupin murmured, his eyes fluttering open as Snape got into the bed behind him, snaking his arms around Lupin's waist as he kissed Lupin's neck and shoulders.

"Could have gone better," Snape said, as his fingers drew up and down Lupin's chest making Lupin stretch out with pleasure, having no intention of being deflected from what he wanted, knowing Lupin would be disappointed he had lost control again. Well, that disappointment could wait. He had belated birthday presents to claim.

* * *


	63. Occlumency

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes in bold from Chapter 24 of OotP are © J.K. Rowling

This was their last night before Snape had to return to Hogwarts. Only a week after the full moon, Lupin was very much Snape's this night. Snape thought briefly that he should confess how he had behaved at Grimmauld Place, but there was time enough for that later. Lupin had awoken so receptively to his touch when he had slipped into bed behind Lupin, snaking his hands around him and stroking his chest, making Lupin stretch out in pleasure as he drew his hands across his nipples, hardening them, and enjoying the small gasp Lupin emitted, Snape put all thoughts of his own behaviour aside.

Snape kissed and licked Lupin's exposed neck and shoulder and Lupin stretched his neck for more and hummed as he stroked Snape's arms with his fingertips, and Snape pressed his body against Lupin's back, savouring the feel of his flesh as he pressed his already very hard cock against Lupin's backside, slowly rubbing himself between the two mounds, a faint growl building in his own throat as Lupin writhed slowly and enticingly against him, trapping his cock allowing Snape to stroke his cock between Lupin's butt cheeks, exciting them both. Snape's hands clasped over Lupin's hips and held Lupin to him hard making Lupin moan as he worked himself against Lupin's soft skin, and became aware from the movement of Lupin's arm that he was stroking himself sensuously in time with Snape's self excitement, both of them now breathing shallowly.

He groaned as he watched Lupin over his shoulder stoking himself so deftly, until he could barely breathe as his head became so muzzy with hot desire and his groin and gut flared so brightly he bit into Lupin's shoulder and he groaned loudly and he took Lupin's cock from him, pumping him harder so Lupin's head tipped back and he cried out with the roughness of Snape's grasp, and Snape's other hand guided Snape's cock and then one finger traced Lupin's glistening opening and Snape inserted just the tip of his cock, and steadied himself so he wouldn't come too quickly, although he was aroused almost beyond endurance. He stilled his hips and hand and breathed deeply again as he listened to Lupin's murmured encouragement and pleading: "Please, Severus," "Oh my darling, please," and then pushed in so slowly that neither man could barely breathe and both gasped with the sheerness of the feeling, Lupin emitting a low moan as Snape then sank gloriously in to the hilt, biting his lip to stifle a cry as he wrapped his other arm around Lupin's waist to anchor him.

Snape couldn't last too long. He driven himself too hard against Lupin's skin and he felt excited to bursting point already, but as he hit Lupin's sweet spot for the first time and heard the delicious cry he gave, his excitement burned deeper still and his mind slowly unravelled as his thrusting became faster as Lupin begged him, clamping hard and beautifully around his cock as he threw his hands over his head to bury them in Snape's hair. Snape now snapped his hips as hard as he could, his own wanton cries echoing Lupin's own as he pumped Lupin with his hand and with his cock, gradually becoming erratic as his orgasm rose, and he held it as long he could until he felt Lupin release with a wild cry, and then let it crest and crash over him as Lupin's orgasm clamped his own pulsing cock and he emptied into Lupin's trembling body that he held so tightly, panting into his shoulder as the ecstasy shook him bodily and then ebbed away.

Lying in soaked sheets, their bodies plastered together, Snape didn't release Lupin's body at all, and all Lupin could manage was to move his hands back to hold onto Snape's arms as he turned his face to meet Snape's and they kissed gently until sleep got the better of them both.

Snape and Lupin had only had time for the briefest of goodbyes the following morning as they both overslept.

Lupin, together with Tonks, was guarding Potter yet again, this time on the journey back to Hogwarts by, of all things, the Knight Bus. Snape could not fathom why Dumbledore thought of such a ridiculous mode of transport for the children's journey. As fey as the decision may have been, it meant that Lupin would be having breakfast at Grimmauld Place and they would not now be together until the weekend.

oooOOOooo

As Lupin and Tonks and their charges were wending their erratic way to Hogwarts, Snape had Apparated to the Apparition point at the boundary of the Hogwarts wards and on to his appointment with Dumbledore to discuss how to proceed with the Occlumency lessons.

"I have increased the protective enchantments, especially against penetrative influences, around the castle. While this will not have the effect of preventing the connection between Harry and Voldemort, Voldemort will find when he pushes at the connection as he says he has been doing, he will recognise the strengthened barriers and that they are my handiwork – or wandwork, if you will - and, hopefully, believe that there is no failure on your part to break Harry's mind. He will work at breaking them down, but I shall rebuild them periodically throughout the term."

Dumbledore sat forward and peered at Snape. "The respite this gives us both will also give you the opportunity to investigate the connection while you teach Harry - find out more about what he is seeing and experiencing through Voldemort. Report to me everything you see. There are things that may be vital, that Harry cannot possibly know the significance of.

"I also want your first cast of the spell to be done without preparing Harry properly -" Snape started in his chair but Dumbledore held out his hand pacifically. "Just this once. It is important to your survival that you are able to demonstrate you attempted to carry our Voldemort's instructions. After the lesson, you and I will work on the memory together. It won't be pleasant for Harry but, once he starts learning properly, any minimal damage done will be repaired."

Snape glared at Dumbledore. "You would have me attack and then spy on the mind of a child," said Snape, appalled.

"Come now, Severus," Dumbledore chided. "You cannot deny the importance of this connection. What you are able to discover may lead to vital information, vital to defeating Voldemort. You do not, after all, need to damage the boy to obtain this information for me."

"You do not consider intruding on his thoughts damaging?" asked Snape, finding himself chilled by Dumbledore's amoral instruction against Lily's child.

"Not if he doesn't know, no. I think the intrusion that you will need to carry out to teach the art in any event is a small price to gain for the intelligence we may learn."

"I am not comfortable with this, Albus."

"It is not a request, Severus."

oooOOOooo

The first day of term was always trying. Added to that, today would be the first Occlumency lesson with Potter. Dumbledore had told him the boy had proved adept at resisting the Imperius Curse, so surely he would be able to apply those skills. Also, as a determined and stubborn rule-breaker, Potter should surely possess the strength of mind. But he was troubled by what Dumbledore had asked him to do. It made his flesh crawl – it felt like a despoiling. It didn't matter that Dumbledore had ordered it: it made it no better. The boy would know – he would feel it – he would fight back – retaliate. Snape sighed heavily. He removed several of his most potent memories of Lupin and placed them into Charmed phials, securing them away in the magical safe in the corner of his office in case the boy retaliated successfully. It was probably best those were secured for the rest of the term, he thought, as he heard Potter enter his office.

' **Shut the door behind you, Potter.'**

While the boy did so, **Snape moved into the light and** pointed **silently to the chair opposite his desk.** They sat opposite each other **,** Snape's **eyes fixed unblinkingly on Harry,** as he struggled with what he saw every time he looked at this boy **.**

He looked into the face of James Potter, and saw Lily staring back at him. How he would have delighted in teaching this art to Lily, as he always delighted in anything he had taught her; showing off his prowess in that which he knew there were few better than he. And Lily, so intelligent and keen, would have lapped up every word greedily – he knew no brighter witch than she had been – both in intelligence and in personality. This child was nothing in comparison with her but how he wished he could look in Harry Potter's eyes and find his friend.

' **Well, Potter, you know why you are here,' he said. 'The Headmaster has asked me to teach you Occlumency. I can only hope you prove more adept at it than at Potions.'**

' **Right,' said** Potter **, tersely.**

' **This may not be an ordinary class, Potter,' said Snape, his eyes narrowed** not wanting the child to feel any more self-important than he already did **, 'but I am still your teacher and you will therefore call me "sir" or "Professor" at all times.'**

' **Yes ... _sir_ ,' said **Potter **.**

' **Now, Occlumency. As I told you back in your dear godfather's kitchen, this branch of magic seals the mind against magical intrusion and influence.'**

' **And why does Professor Dumbledore think I need it, sir?" said** the boy **, looking directly into Snape's eyes.** _Truly, the boy could be astonishingly obtuse,_ thought Snape incredulously.

**Snape looked back at him for a moment and then said contemptuously, 'Surely even you could have world that out by now, Potter? The Dark Lord is highly skilled at Legilimency –'**

' **What's that? _Sir?'_**

' **It is the ability to extract feelings and memories from another person's mind –'**

' **He can read minds?' said** Potter **quickly.**

' **You have no subtlety, Potter,' said Snape, his dark eyes glittering. 'You do not understand fine distinctions. It is one of the shortcomings that makes you such a lamentable potion-maker.'**

**Snape paused for a moment,** wondering how to explain this to Potter **, before continuing.** Idris had the same misunderstanding but Snape had not felt the need to criticise him, he recognised. But then, Idris's mental well-being and the future of the wizarding world hadn't depended upon his understanding the distinctions.

' **Only Muggles talk of "mind-reading". The mind is not a book, to be opened at will and examined at leisure. Thoughts are not etched on the inside of skulls, to be perused by any invader. The mind is a complex and many-layered thing, Potter – or at least, most minds are.' He smirked. 'It is true, however, that those who have mastered Legilimency are able, under certain conditions, to delve into the minds of their victims and to interpret their findings correctly. The Dark Lord, for instance, almost always knows when somebody is lying to him. Only those skilled at Occlumency are able to shut down those feelings and memories that contradict the lie, and so can utter falsehoods in his presence without detection.'**

' **So he could know what we're thinking right now? Sir?'**

' **The Dark Lord is at a considerable distance and the walls and grounds of Hogwarts are guarded by many ancient spells and charms to ensure the bodily and mental safety of those who dwell within them,' said Snape. 'Time and space matter in magic, Potter. Eye contact is often essential to Legilimency.'**

' **Well then, why do I have to learn Occlumency?'**

**Snape eyed Harry, tracing his mouth with one long, thin finger as he did so.** He had wondered if the boy had any concept of the danger that this connection could mean for him: it was clear he did not.

' **The usual rules do not seem to apply with you, Potter. The curse that failed to kill you seems to have forged some kind of connection between you and the Dark Lord. The evidence suggests that at times, when your mind is most relaxed and vulnerable – when you are asleep, for instance – you are sharing the Dark Lord's thoughts and emotions. The Headmaster thinks it inadvisable for this to continue. He wishes me to teach you how to close your mind to the Dark Lord.'**

The boy's consternation was palpable.

' **But why does Professor Dumbledore want to stop it?' he asked abruptly. 'I don't like it much, but it's been useful, hasn't it? I mean ... I saw that snake attack Mr Weasley and if I hadn't, Professor Dumbledore wouldn't have been able to save, would he? Sir?'**

**Snape stared at Harry for a few moments, still tracing his mouth with his finger.** It was imperative that the boy understood what he was seeing. The sooner he could use Occlumency to stop it the happier Snape would be, but he feared the boy would see himself as in some way gifted by this in that foolish manner of Gryffindors. **When he spoke again, it was slowly and deliberately, ... he weighed every word.**

' **It appears that the Dark Lord has been unaware of the connection between you and himself until very recently. Up till now it seems that you have been experiencing his emotions, and sharing his thoughts, without his being any the wiser. However, the vision you had shortly before Christmas –'**

' **The one with the snake and Mr Weasley.'** Snape shut his eyes at the pointless interruption.

' **Do not interrupt me, Potter,' said Snape in a dangerous voice. 'As I was saying, the vision you had shortly before Christmas represented such a powerful incursion upon the Dark Lord's thoughts –'**

' **I saw the inside of the snake's head, not his!'**

' **I thought I just told you not to interrupt me, Potter?'** The boy's excitement was rising and **he had moved forwards in his chair so that, without realising, he was perched on the very edge, tense as though poise for flight.**

' **How come I saw through the snake's eyes if it's Voldemort's thoughts I'm sharing?'**

' ** _Do not say the Dark Lord's name!_ ' spat Snape. **If the brat knew, had even an inkling, of how the Dark Lord punished even his followers who broke the Taboo on his name ... but Snape had seen it. Oh yes, Snape had witnessed witches and wizards – the Dark Lord's own acolytes – with the flesh flayed from their very bones or their minds savaged until they could no more than drool for perceived plotting – all because they dared to speak the Dark Lord's name, the utterance of which he had declared Taboo as being disrespectful to him. Then the Dark Lord extended his Taboo to other wizards – using it to trace those who opposed him. Fear of the name spread like wild fire: only those very powerful or very foolish continued to say the name. Until the day he died, even if Merlin himself vouched that the Dark Lord was no more, Snape would not speak his name.

**There was a nasty silence. They glared at each other across the Pensieve.**

' **Professor Dumbledore says his name,' said** Potter snidely.

' **Dumbledore is an extremely powerful wizard,' Snape muttered. 'While _he_ may feel secure enough to use the name ... the rest of us ...' He rubbed his left forearm, ** the conduit for any breaking of the Taboo by him to be known to his blood master **.**

' **I just wanted to know,'** the boy **began again,** and Snape could hear he was **forcing his voice back to politeness, 'why –'**

' **You seemed to have visited the snake's mind because that was where the Dark Lord was at that particular moment,' snarled Snape. 'He was possessing the snake at the time and so you dreamed you were inside it, too.'**

' **And Vol- he – realised I was there?'**

' **It seems so,' said Snape coolly.**

' **How do you know? Is this just Professor Dumbledore guessing, or -?'**

' **I told you,' said Snape, rigid in his chair, his eyes slits, 'to call me "sir".** ' Snape's anger flared as he recalled the application of the torture curse and the pain of being flung across the hall of that filthy manor for what the child thought was a guess.

' **Yes, sir,' said** Potter **impatiently, 'but how do you know –'**

' **It is enough that we know,' said Snape repressively.** This was a conversation Dumbledore should have already had with the boy for Snape certainly didn't have the patience for the brat's incessant questioning. **'The important point is that the Dark Lord is now aware that you are gaining access to his thoughts and feelings. He has also deduced that the process is likely to work in reverse; that is to say, he has realised that he might be able to access your thoughts and feelings in return –'**

' **And he might try and make me do things? _Sir?_ '**

' **He might,' said Snape,** doing his best to sound **cold and unconcerned** , although the prospect of the Dark Lord controlling Harry Potter, beloved of the Headmaster, within the confines of Hogwarts Castle was a truly appalling one that froze his very core **. 'Which brings us back to Occlumency.'**

**Snape pulled out his wand** and removed his memories of that day by the Black Lake and placed them in Dumbledore's Pensieve in case, by some fluke, the boy managed to make the spell rebound. Then **he picked up the Pensieve carefully, removed it to a shelf out of the way and returned to face** Potter **with his wand held at the ready.**

' **Stand up and take out your wand, Potter,'**

**They faced each other with desk between them.**

' **You may use your wand to attempt to disarm me, or defend yourself in any other way you can think of,' said Snape.**

' **And what are you going to do?'** Potter **asked, eyeing Snape's wand apprehensively.**

' **I am about to attempt to break into your mind,' said Snape softly. 'We are going to see how well you resist. I have been told that you have already shown aptitude at resisting the Imperius Curse. You will find that similar powers are needed for this ... brace yourself, now. _Legilimens!_ '**

**Snape struck before Harry was ready, before he had even begun to summon any force of resistance.** Despite this being agreed with Dumbledore to create a memory for Snape when the Dark Lord searched his mind to ensure Snape had followed his instructions correctly, it repulsed Snape to do it. Snape knew it would be unpleasant for the boy to be unprepared, but Dumbledore insisted that it would only hurt his pride. Snape was not convinced, but then – Potter had plenty of pride, after all.

Potter was small and jealous of a fat boy **riding a new red bicycle.** Older, a **bulldog chasing him up a tree and** people ( _Who?_ ) **laughing below.** T **he Sorting Hat telling him he would do well in Slytherin** ( _No!)_ **.** Miss Granger's **face covered with thick black hair. Dementors closing in on him beside the dark lake.** Miss **Chang under the mistletoe.** The boy was starting to resist after the initial shock and his mind was twisting and turning and now the boy was shouting **.**

Suddenly and quickly and clearly reflexively, the boy produced a sharp, strong Stinging Hex to Snape's wrist and the spell broke and the boy fell **to the floor** colliding with **the leg of Snape's desk** as Snape rubbed at the **angry weal.**

' **Did you mean to produce a Stinging Hex?' asked Snape coolly.**

' **No,'** the boy admitted **, getting up from the floor.**

' **I thought not,' said Snape contemptuously. 'You let me get in too far. You lost control.'**

' **Did you see everything I saw?'** Potter **asked.**

' **Flashes of it,' said Snape, his lip curling. 'To whom did the dog belong?'**

' **My Aunt Marge,'** the boy **muttered,** his hatred of Snape radiating from him **.**

' **Well, for a first attempt that was not as poor as it might have been,' said Snape, raising his wand once more. 'You managed to stop me eventually, though you wasted time and energy shouting. You must remain focused. Repel me with your brain and you will not need to resort to your wand.'**

' **I'm trying,' said** Potter **angrily, 'but you're not telling me how!'**

' **Manners, Potter,' said Snape** , deciding he could no longer in good conscience continue with Dumbledore's instructions now that the boy had called him on not preparing him. What he had would have to be enough. **'Now, I want you to close your eyes. Clear your mind, Potter,' said Snape,** keeping his voice even. **'Let go of all emotion ...'**

**But** he could feel Potter's **anger at** him. He had forcibly invaded the boy's mind; of course he was furious.

' **You're not doing it, Potter ... you will need more discipline than this ... focus, now ... Let's go again ... on the count of three ... one - two – three – _Legilimens!_ '**

**A great black dragon.** Lily! – Lily and James Potter **waving at him. Cedric Diggory's** dead **eyes staring at him.** Snape's own heart lurched to see the three so vividly – so see Lily so vividly.

' **NOOOOOOO!'** the boy cried out in anguish and resistance, but in truth Snape had broken the spell before he resisted, he himself in shock at the strength of his reaction to these insights.

The boy **was on his knees again, his face buried in his hands** and Snape could tell he had injured him. The boy had not shut down one single emotion. He had to learn; he simply must: he could not afford to be inept – too much was stake but – Snape felt uneasy and unbalanced: sure that it could not be within his Vow to injure the boy intentionally no matter what Dumbledore might say. And to see Lily – _oh Lily_ – he didn't want this access to Potter's mind – not at all - not one bit of it.

' **Get up!' said Snape sharply** to cover his own distress. Why could the boy not even try? **'Get up!' You are not trying, you are making no effort. You are allowing me access to memories you fear, handing me weapons!'**

' **I – am – making- an – effort,'** the boy **said through clenched teeth.**

' **I told you to empty yourself of emotion!'**

' **Yeah? Well, I'm finding that hard at the moment,'** Potter **snarled.**

' **Then you will find yourself easy prey for the Dark Lord!' said Snape savagely. 'Fools who wear their hearts proudly on their sleeves, who cannot control their emotions, who wallow in sad memories and allow themselves to be provoked so easily – weak people in other words – they stand no chance against his powers! He will penetrate your mind with absurd ease, Potter!'**

' **I am not weak,' said** Potter **in a low voice,** but Snape could feel the **fury now pumping through** the boy and his urge to **attack Snape** and he even understood it, but Potter had to learn to put it aside – just as Snape himself had had to learn to put aside his own appalling temper to master Occlumency **.**

' **Then prove it! Master yourself!' spat Snape. 'Control your anger, discipline your mind! We shall try again! Get ready, now! _Legilimens!_ '**

A fat man **hammering the letterbox shut. Dementors.** R **unning along a windowless passage with** Arthur **Weasley ...** nearer and **nearer to the plain black door at the end of the corridor** then being **led off to the left, down a flight of stone steps ...**

' **I KNOW! I KNOW!'** the boy shouted exultantly and dropped to the floor. Snape noticed that he knew the boy's **scar was prickling unpleasantly.** He picked up the sensation quite plainly and stopped the spell, wondering if he had caused it.

' **What happened then, Potter?' he asked, eyeing Harry intently.** This is what Dumbledore was after, he was sure.

' **I saw – I remembered,'** the boy **panted. 'I just realised ...'**

' **Realised what?' Snape asked sharply** reading very clearly the corridor in which Arthur Weasley had been attacked **.**

' **What's in the Department of Mysteries?'**

' **What did you say?' Snape asked quietly, unnerved** and wondering how the boy knew that location **.**

' **I said, what's in the Department of Mysteries, _sir_?'**

' **And why,' said Snape slowly, 'would you ask such a thing?'**

' **Because,' said** Potter **, watching Snape closely for a reaction, 'that corridor I've just seen – I've been dreaming about it for months – I've just recognised it – it leads to the Department of Mysteries ... I think Voldemort wants something from –'**

' ** _I have told you not to say the Dark Lord's name!'_** Snape hissed angrily.

**They glared at each other. Snape** tried to hide his agitation as he felt heat prickle in his Mark, knowing that the boy's scar burnt with it **; when he spoke again he** tried to sound **cool and unconcerned** , but he was sure that at this instant the Dark Lord was also pushing at the boy's mind **.**

' **There are many things in the Department of Mysteries, Potter, few of which you would understand and none of which concern you. Do I make myself plain?'**

' **Yes,'** Potter **said, still rubbing his scar.** Snape felt the boy's prickling scar again. The Dark Lord's intrusion was far greater than they had originally thought. As much as he was loathe to do it and had originally agreed one lesson a week with Dumbledore, it was now clear to Snape that it was crucial that the boy learnt to Occlude and he would need more lessons than planned. He had vowed this for his friend.

' **I want you back here same time on Wednesday. We will continue work then.'**

' **Fine,' said** the boy petulantly.

' **You are to rid your mind of all emotion very night before sleep; empty it, make it blank and calm, you understand?'**

' **Yes,' said** Potter, although it was clear he **was barely listening.**

' **And be warned, Potter ... I shall know if you have not practised ...'**

The boy shuffled off and Snape turned his back and **scoop** ed **his own thoughts out of the Pensieve with the tip of his wand and replac** ed **them inside his own head** and he thought very carefully about what he had seen **.**

oooOOOooo

Dumbledore pressed a tot glass of single malt whisky into Snape's hand and they both sat. Snape was subdued for a long time.

He had given his memory of the lesson to Dumbledore and they had just watched it all in the Pensieve. As they watched, Snape described to the best of his ability all of the shreds of memories he had seen and all the feelings he had experienced from Potter, including his undoubtedly righteous resentment at Snape's intrusion into his mind.

"The Dark Lord's incursion into Potter's mind is far further along than I had ever dreamt, Albus. He has been dreaming of the Department of Mysteries for months."

"He dreams of it because it is constantly on Voldemort's mind. Now, you will need to monitor these thoughts. He may pick up on Order members' conversations and inadvertently pass information through this connection to Voldemort enabling him to get the Prophecy. You also need to watch out for any alien ideas that Voldemort plants in his mind."

"Potter's mind is itself completely alien to me Albus," Snape commented snidely, then he huffed angrily. "I am not happy with intruding on the boy like this, Albus. Not only does it enforce an intimacy on me with the boy that I have absolutely no desire for; whilst he is still a novice at this, it will not enable him to build these defences properly. He is temperamental and if I keep breaching his private memories, he will never control his emotions so he will not learn. How will this help us at all?"

"I trust you not to intrude too far, Severus," Dumbledore said quietly.

"I'd prefer not to do this at all!" he snapped, and then sighed. "Wouldn't it be easier and not to mention safer if you were just to talk to the boy, rather than run from him? He trusts you completely."

"We have already discussed this," Dumbledore responded sharply. "It is best for everyone, including and particularly Harry, that Voldemort does not have the temptation of being able to get to me." Snape started to protest again, but Albus held up a hand to silence him. "No more, Severus. Now, we need to work on this memory."

With that, Snape fashioned a memory consisting mainly of his first intrusion into Potter's mind and then linked it to the other memories as if had been obtained without giving Potter any guidance or opportunity to defend himself. The rest of the memory he repressed behind his Occlumency barriers. Then Dumbledore tested the memory for flaws and weaknesses. They worked solidly on it for over an hour before Snape retired to his own quarters for the night, with a resounding headache and uneasy in his conscience. He took a strong headache potion and had a very long bath to try to ease the tension before settling down in bed to speak to Lupin through the mirror.

Snape could tell that Lupin could see his distress as soon as they started to speak. He told him everything that he had done to Potter and why he was worried about it.

"But Albus says it's safe, doesn't he? I mean, he wouldn't harm Harry? Surely, he would never harm Harry?"

"He says so," Snape confirmed, but in his heart he was uneasy. "Remus – you know me: I am not a soft-hearted man who treats children with care. They rarely even merit my notice. I care not if they hate me, or fear me. But there are lines that should not be crossed. Do you understand?" he asked desperately. And the two talked around the issues for ages, Lupin's good sense and complete belief in the goodness of Dumbledore soothing the troubled waters of Snape's mind, gradually easing and relaxing his fraught mind until he was so relaxed, Lupin talked him into touching himself using the mirrors. He had not done this for so long, he was quite excited and he told himself, he definitely deserved this type of relaxation after such a tiresome day.

They each enlarged the mirrors with the charm and looked at each other, still so very enticed by the other's naked body, Snape so very entranced to see the man in the mirror touch himself and then feel how Snape made him feel, all these hundreds of miles away.

Watching Lupin's eager expression, Snape touched his neck bite lightly, provoking a fierce arousal, and as he watched, he saw Lupin's erection grow. Snape breathed in deeply as he felt Lupin's hands and caressing his body as he caressed the bite. His instinctive reaction was to close his eyes, but he fought against it so he could watch Lupin as he arched and stretched deliciously, the sight itself arousing Snape even further. He touched the bite below his stomach and felt the sensation inside himself of his prostate being stroked and his own muscles contracting strongly against it, and watched and listened to Lupin's groans and writhings of pleasure as he worked the bite insistently, his own breath beginning to hitch as his pleasure heightened and the stroking of his prostate began to override his control as his eyes rolled back and blossoms exploded against his eyelids as his orgasm began to escalate.

He grasped his own cock, hearing Lupin murmuring his name as he, in turn, gasped out Lupin's, and began to stroke himself firmly, sweating as he bucked into his own hand, the friction deliciously rasping the length of his cock, he groaned loudly, his arousal now painful – so painful – no! - real pain – a searing, shredding pain.

He yelped as his hands flew away from his body and he pushed himself to sit on the side of his bed, his eyes now wide and brimming with tears of pain, staring at Lupin, who looked back at him, terrified, as each clasped his own left forearm.

The Dark Mark burned; it burned savagely.

* * *


	64. Gathering Strength

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes in bold from Chapter 24 & 25 of OotP are © J.K. Rowling

As quickly as Snape could, he hurriedly said he loved him, and promised he would stay safe and then said good-bye to the helpless and stricken man in the mirror, who had just felt the blood brand burn for the first time through the Wolf's Kiss. Snape deeply resented such Dark pollution of that connection they used for their love-making; resented how the Dark Lord tainted everything that Snape held dear.

Snape was alarmed to have been called yet again in term time and on the very evening he had given Potter his first Occlumency lesson. The Dark Lord must be so very keen to have access to Harry Potter's mind, he would brook no delaying tactics. Snape needed to prepare himself for the very worst. Snape then cleansed and dressed himself as he sent his Patronus to Dumbledore and he set out for the Apparition point. He did not run for he needed to ensure he was completely Occluded, but he strode purposefully, breathing as deeply as he could and Disapparated to the Dark Mark.

He Apparated, not to the derelict manor house of the past months as he expected, but surprisingly into the great dining room of Malfoy Manor, at the Dark Lord's right hand side.

"Severus!" the Dark Lord sang. "We shall talk shortly, but stand and watch now: see a great victory!"

The crack of Apparition introduced the last few Death Eaters into their places. Snape kept still, noting that none were felled by the Cruciatus Curse. The Dark Lord must indeed be pleased. The atmosphere was charged with the Dark Lord's reverberating magic.

"My followers! Today is a great day. Today sees the consolidation of our pact with our friends in the North Sea and the return to me of my faithful – and so we gather our strength," the Dark Lord proclaimed.

Snape felt a pulse of magic, and knew the Dark Lord had given a cue. The huge mahogany double doors swung open, and ten robed and masked Death Eaters entered the grand room.

_New initiates?_ wondered Snape, with some disquiet. The inner circle was always involved in initiations. He felt panic fluttering in his gut that in some unknown way he had lost favour, but if his Occlusion was thick and impenetrable, and he knew that it was, how could it have happened? His Occluded mind began to race when he heard:

"Unmask and take your places, my faithful ones!"

The first to unmask took Snape's breath away, and many of the others gasped loudly as **maniacal laughter** rang out **... jubilant, ecstatic, triumphant** laughter from the Dark Lord.

**She glared up at** Snape **through heavily lidded eyes,** her **arrogant, disdainful smile playing around her thin mouth.** There she stood, so clearly – completely and utterly – deranged: Bellatrix Lestrange.

How very like Black she was to look at – even down to the same loss of their aristocratic beauty through their years of imprisonment and deprivation – and how clear the family psychosis, strongest in her, but so readily apparent in the erratic behaviour of Sirius Black from the generations of consanguineous alliances. Really, it was a surprise that Regulus, Andromeda and Narcissa had escaped the manifestation of this mental unbalance. That wasn't to say it wouldn't rear its head with the next generations.

And who were the next generations? Nymphadora Tonks and Draco Malfoy. And it wasn't outside the realms of possibility that Black himself still might breed. _If he was ever let out of the house,_ Snape smirked at the thought. He was forever grateful that Bellatrix had not produced progeny, especially since the object of her rapacious sexual appetite had ceased to be her husband long before her incarceration.

Snape's lips pursed. Well, Miss Tonks at least had the sturdy Muggle-born stock of her father to dilute the damaged lineage. If he recalled correctly, her mate, David, was a half-blood before his Turning. But Draco ... poor Draco ... was yet a further generation of consanguinity, for Lucius Malfoy was also a cousin of the Black family. Draco _would_ marry a pureblood and, if that pureblood were British, they would be related also. Really, thought Snape, it was too appalling.

Bellatrix seemed to sway, as if buffeted by a light wind, as she glowered at all the assembled company. When she blinked, it was the slow blink of a basking, satiated predator. She sneered at all but the Dark Lord, but reserved her most scornful appraisal for Snape.

"Bellatrix," Snape nodded towards her, without an attempt at a smile. She had always made her disgust of his half-blood lineage clear and despised any favour he gained with the Dark Lord. He saw her nostrils flare at his place at the Dark Lord's right hand side and knew she would dedicate herself to divesting him of that position of trust. Her return could only signify a ratchet on the levels of violence and cruelty that would now hold sway over Death Eater plans and a hastening of the Dark Lord's plans to come to dominance.

His eyes slid away from hers, now knowing what they would see as he scanned the others: Dolohov, the despised brothers, Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange, Mulciber, Rookwood, Travers, Miles, Courtney and Markham.

'Our friends in the North Sea' had released ten Death Eaters. How could the Ministry now deny the return of the Dark Lord? Dumbledore would be disappointed this was not known to him in advance. Whilst it was always known the Dementors would give the Dark Lord their allegiance, Dumbledore and the Order would dearly love to have postponed this fateful day. It was a severe setback.

The Dark Lord continued to laugh maniacally, delighted to augment his inner circle, but eventually he calmed. "Now I have my inner circle restored, we must consolidate our recruitment. Our dear restored friends, I expect to make inroads with their own ... _very_ special skills. While our Minister of Magic proves himself so very amenable to being duped, we can continue to enlarge our numbers without interference. I applaud you, Lucius, for keeping our dear Minister so focused on the deteriorating mental health of Harry Potter and the senility of the old man." Malfoy stood straighter still, preening at the accolade.

"Now I have need to speak to certain of you privately. Bellatrix, follow me." The Dark Lord turned and the emaciated Bellatrix followed him, her eyes adoring, from the dining room, and the other Death Eaters unmasked and began to talk to each other.

Snape could see Malfoy turning towards him and moving with the grace of one confident that others would move out of his way, and if they didn't, his cane top would be applied viciously. He walked slowly, his expensive and hefty robes cut to drape in a regal dash as he moved, turning the cane by its silver serpent top in his hand with each step as he drew level with Snape.

"My dear Severus," Malfoy purred and placed his unwelcome, manicured finger tips on Snape's shoulder, "as you can see, I have offered our family home to the Dark Lord. It was so ... ah ... unpleasant - was it not? - to have to meet in the squalor of that rundown shack in the middle of," Malfoy shrugged, shoulders and hands, "who-knows-where. So dilapidated and dirty." His full lips crimped into a small smile that wasn't reflected in his eyes. "How awful it must have been for you to have been left in the dirt on Christmas Day." Malfoy clicked his tongue and turned his supercilious sneer away from Snape as he surveyed his own grand dining room with a self-satisfied air.

"One can only _imagine_ the degradation of waking there – quite alone," Malfoy almost chuckled as his crimped smirk deepened, clearly relishing the thought. _So Narcissa had not told Lucius that she returned for me._ Snape would remember that when the time came for reckonings. "I suppose you could have offered your family home in ... where is it? Somewhere up north, isn't it?" He gave a soft snort of derision. "But then, I suppose, it really would have been ... too ... shall we say kindly ... cosy?"

"Indeed, Lucius, we should each play to our strengths: your inherited wealth and undoubted largesse to the appropriately powerful," Snape said softly, his chin held high against the pointless insults as he looked down his nose at the hand on his shoulder, "and my magical talent." He heard Malfoy's sharp intake of breath, felt his fingers bite his shoulder. "Now if you'll excuse me ... the Dark Lord requires my service."

Fortuitously (for the purposes of one upmanship at least), the Dark Lord had chosen that very moment to return and look towards Snape and beckon him imperiously. Snape gave Malfoy a curt nod and went straight to the Dark Lord, feeling relatively confident that Malfoy would come to regret handing over his domicile to the Dark Lord.

"Come, Severus," the Dark Lord said, as he turned glided out of the dining room towards Malfoy's study. As he entered the opulent room, he dimmed the light with a lazy wave of his hand and sat in the high-backed chair as Severus stood before him. He waved his wand downwards. As with the emperors of old, the Dark Lord would not countenance anyone's head being higher than his own, and Snape knelt. He didn't drop his eyes. He knew the Dark Lord would expect access to his mind and he had to be ready to provide it without demur.

"The old man has strengthened his wards," the Dark Lord spat.

"Yes, my Lord, he told me before the first lesson with the boy," Snape confirmed.

"Why did you not prevent it?" said the Dark Lord, dangerously.

"He had already done it when he told me, my Lord," Snape tried to reason.

"So, he doesn't trust you!" the Dark Lord accused.

"I don't believe that is the case, my Lord. The old man always takes care of the castle's wards himself. I have never been involved with them." Snape said, his tone calm and measured but hidden in his Occluded mind was his rising panic at the irrationality of the accusation.

The Dark Lord continued to stare at Snape with something akin to disgust, and Snape felt the Dark Lord's magic charge but then be pulled back and he felt it focus sharply as the Dark Lord raised his wand to Snape's face and his red eyes sharpened.

_Legilimens!_

Snape's breath was whipped away by the pain as the Dark Lord tore into his mind, slicing through it until he found what he did not realise Snape had proffered. He found the memory Snape and Dumbledore had concocted of Snape attacking Potter's mind unprepared, hurting and distressing the child the process.

"Excellent. Excellent," the Dark Lord whispered sibilantly and then he snorted sharply. "The boy's memories are as dull as his magic." He continued to rifle through what Snape provided making noises of approval and interest and then he suddenly released his spell and Snape fell forward, stopping his fall with the palms of his hands, gasping for breath at the pain in his head. Despite it all, he managed to clamber back to his knees, all the while his head was hammering from the violent intrusion.

"You have done well, Severus. Well done for increasing the number of lessons. That was a clever ploy. It will be much more difficult now that old man has interfered with the wards and will probably take longer, but you must keep that up. Well done." He patted Snape's head, who wanted to exhale with relief, but didn't dare, didn't dare relax until he was clear of Malfoy Manor.

"Now, you will tell Dumbledore that I kept from all of my followers the return of the favoured. You will not let him know that this was discussed whilst you," he smirked nastily, " _slept_ off your last ... correction. I don't want the old man thinking you are not useful." The Dark Lord tilted his head to look at Snape. "Does he not check how you behave with Harry Potter? With _the Boy who Lived_?" he sneered.

"He is, my Lord, remarkably unconcerned," Snape managed to say lightly, although all he wanted to do was to crush his pounding head between his hands.

"Yes ... yes ..." the Dark Lord had now stood, considering. "His disdain for those who are subject to his machinations are legend. Use his negligence well, Severus."

 

 

oooOOOooo

Snape took the Floo from Malfoy Manor to Dumbledore's office, and found Dumbledore and Lupin waiting for him.

Lupin grasped his arm as soon as he came through the Floo.

"I am unhurt, I am unhurt – well, a headache – but no, no injuries ..." he said quickly taking in Lupin's worry.

"He _Legilimised_ you?" Dumbledore asked quickly.

"Yes," Snape whispered, deliberately refraining from nodding.

"Did he get more than we intended?" Dumbledore asked urgently.

"No. No," Snape gasped as Lupin shot Dumbledore an angry look.

Dumbledore sat heavily in the chair opposite and passed a hand over his face.

"Shall I heal it?" Dumbledore offered, "or would you prefer …?"

"I have much to tell you both. Please heal it now." Snape was aware there was an edge to his voice that sounded like desperation, but he needed to tell them both what he had learnt so Dumbledore could act quickly and he didn't have the luxury of time for Lupin's healing, although he yearned for it, without doubt. He gave Lupin's hand a quick squeeze of reassurance as Dumbledore cast _Legilimens_ and gently entered Snape's mind to cast healing and soothing charms to the ravages of the Dark Lord.

 

 

oooOOOooo

Once Snape had finished recounting the escape of the ten Death Eaters, Dumbledore listening to every word, he stood to see them out of the office with the intention of calling an Order meeting as soon as possible.

"It's best not to use the Floo. Dolores Umbridge has the Floo network monitored, even within the castle. Remus, Disillusion yourself and walk back to Severus's rooms. Please think about what I said earlier."

With that, Dumbledore turned to his desk and began to write out a parchment, as Fawkes shed a feather onto the desk.

"Thank you, my friend," they heard him say softly as they left his office.

They walked in silence back to the dungeons, though to any onlookers, it looked as if Severus Snape bestrode the corridors alone.

As they entered Snape's quarters, Lupin removed the Disillusionment Charm and they summoned Tippy for some tea.

"What does Dumbledore want you to think about?" Snape asked as they sat down together, Lupin drawing Snape to his chest and stroking his hair.

"When you were called, I came straight here by Floo to wait for you. That call ... God, Severus, it's horrific! I was so scared for you after Christmas Day. I couldn't just sit and wait - I just couldn't." Lupin's voice had dropped to a whisper as he stroked Snape's hair and kissed the crown of his head. "Albus told me off. Said I was forgetting our secrecy – jeopardising everything because if Umbridge caught me using the Floo, she'd launch some kind of enquiry. He asked me to, in his words, 'restrain myself'." Snape looked up into Lupin's eyes. "I don't know that I can, not now I've felt that ... that thing," he said, gesturing with his head to Snape's forearm.

"But he is right," Snape said softly. "Umbridge, if she found you here – you know what she's like about werewolves ..."

"As if I needed reminding - she is the very reason why I sometimes couldn't afford to eat," Lupin quipped bitterly.

"Exactly. We can't give her ammunition, any more than we can risk being revealed to the Dark Lord." Snape sat back so he could look at Lupin's face and cupped it in his hands. "But I still thank Merlin that you're here."

They slept, Lupin spooning around Snape and holding him close and safe.

Snape had awoken not long after dawn, still with Lupin curled behind him, to Lupin stroking his hand down the length of his flank and gently nipping at his ear and just behind it, his other hand holding Snape's own hand above their heads on the pillow. This is the way he wanted to wake every morning, what he had hoped for when they bonded. The deep delight of this warmed him in ways that weren't just sexual, although he certainly couldn't deny he was very aroused even by just the feather light gentleness of Lupin's touch, such a sweet counterpoint to the brutality of last night.

He closed his eyes to just feel the brushes that sparked deliciously against his skin as Lupin's nips became deeper kisses on his neck and shoulders, humming into his skin, and his hand and fingers became more insistent against Snape's rib cage and hips, his fingers splayed as he pulled his hand down Snape's side, the tingling thrill shooting to Snape's groin and making him arch and moan as his own hand now felt behind him to stroke Lupin's thigh as his other hand held Lupin's tighter still, his desire burning brightly as his mind fogged: only the touch of Lupin registering now. Lupin's hand stroked back to smooth over the curve of Snape's butt, caressing it and smoothing his hand to the cleft between making Snape gasp and turn his face to the skin of Lupin's outstretched arm and mouth at the soft skin, moaning as Lupin traced his opening lightly. It was too light; he wanted more and he murmured the word over and over as Lupin, now sucking deeply on his shoulder, pushed in his fingers, one by one rhythmically, Snape groaning more loudly into Lupin's upper arm with each addition as they found his prostate and played on it, making him moan loudly with each potent touch and stopping his own mouth on the skin of Lupin's arm.

Lupin pushed his hips against Snape, as he gently removed his fingers and then guided his cock in slowly, his hand now grasping Snape's hip as Snape mouthed silently against Lupin's arm, until Lupin, moaning himself into Snape's neck, sheathed fully inside him making Snape's head tip back with the sharp, full heat of it, as he exhaled one word: "Please!"

Lupin gently thrust, Snape moaning that each thrust deep into him sent such a hot flare through his body that made him push back for more. Lupin pushed forward Snape's upper leg for deeper entrance, himself now groaning deeply with each thrust as he moved his hand from Snape's hip to wrap around his cock, and stroking him in time with his thrusts, now deeper and harder, both men now incessantly moaning at the heated friction. Snape pushed back harder now, his eyes squeezed shut, as his orgasm built more and more strongly, and his breathing now erratic until it burst over him in waves.

"Oh my love!" Snape cried, his orgasm too unbridled as he dug his fingers deeply into the muscle of Lupin's thigh as he heard Lupin murmur in his ear, "My Severus," and release powerfully into him, pumping himself and Snape of the last of their orgasm then holding Snape to himself closely once more as they both gasped deeply for breath.

 

 

oooOOOooo

Tippy had served them breakfast in bed, and they now lay discussing all that Snape had told Dumbledore last night before Lupin was due to sneak out of the castle.

"It is a dreadful set-back," Snape said. "The only Death Eaters of the Dark Lord's inner circle now not reunited with him are those who are dead. Dumbledore knows that the Dark Lord will feel more confident in making his return known shortly – probably not even a year. He has the Dementors, all the vampires and I'll try to get an update on how Greyback's doing with the werewolves."

"I'll be lucky if I can get half, and then only if I have time," Lupin sighed.

"The disappearances will start when the Dark Lord's ready to show himself, and then the enforced recruitment of witches and wizards. When it comes to enforcement, there's no-one more compelling than our dear Bellatrix. There aren't many who refuse her who live to tell the tale," Snape's lip curled.

Lupin snorted, "I can imagine. Merlin, can you imagine what a fright she'd be in the sack!"

"She only needs to get in the vicinity of the sack to be frightening, believe me."

Lupin regarded Snape with a smile that gradually broadened into a grin. "Do you have a story to tell me, Severus? Is she one of the 'couple' you mentioned? Bellatrix? No! Merlin, I'm not surprised you're off women! Hell's bells, Severus, tell me!" Lupin laughed with astonishment.

"You really want to know this?" Snape asked, a smile quirking the corners of his mouth. "It is not at all what you may think."

"If it were any other woman, then no. But it's Bellatrix – since when did she earn any respect for her reputation or maidenhood?" Lupin reasoned.

"Your logic is infallible." Snape smirked. Lupin sat up, plumped his pillow, and the turned on his side to listen to Snape, an amused expression on his face.

"As I recall, I was nineteen. It was after our duel with the Order in Chancery Lane …" Snape started.

"That one you taunted Sirius about?"

"The very same."

"I duelled Bellatrix that night – vicious bint!" Lupin snapped. "She took on me, Gideon and Fabian – and it was still a close thing!"

"It's a credit to you that you're still standing then. She is a formidable witch – powerful, without conscience or feeling and truly sadistic, but would you like to know this story ..."

Lupin apologised meekly, and settled back again.

"We fell back to our headquarters, job well done, and celebrated our haul of ceremonial daggers that the Dark Lord had wanted ... "

"So that's what you were after at the Silver Vaults?" Lupin interrupted. Snape pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow. "Sorry, Severus. It's just ... we didn't know. We were just sent to stop you. Sorry," Lupin said in a small voice as Snape looked annoyed for his interrupting yet again.

"So, quite a lot of elf-made wine and Firewhiskey was had. Those who weren't already attached were pairing off, and I tried to leave quietly to get to my room and I found Bellatrix already there."

"Hmmm – that was nice for you ..." Lupin started to chuckle.

"In no magical dimension of space or time or beyond any veil would that be nice for me. I can't imagine that I would ever be tempted to allow a maniac like Bellatrix near me, amorously or otherwise," Snape stated. "I politely asked her to leave."

"Bet that didn't work ..." Lupin chuckled again.

"On the instant, she bound me! She cast _Incarcerous_ to bind me in leather straps." Snape grimaced. "I'm sure I don't need to tell you that there was nothing sexual about that for me. I can assure you, a half-blood such as I would never wish to be bound for a woman with the depredations of Bellatrix Lestrange. She married that husband of hers for a reason – they were like-for-like in more than just blood purity. But I digress. So I am bound and then she kissed me. Not a tender kiss or even a passionate kiss, but the true pureblood entitled, dominant kiss – a weapon with which to hurt me and humiliate me – biting until she drew blood." Snape gave a small shudder.

"I turned my head away from her, and she grabbed my hair as tightly as she could. It hurt, and I made the mistake of letting it show. And that's what she wanted. I should have known: it's not as if her enjoyment of violence was ever a secret. Seeing the sadistic delight in her eyes - that galvanised me and I managed to cast my way out of the bindings and repel her with a shield charm until I retrieved my wand from my robe." Snape sighed heavily.

"What the hell do you do with a powerful witch like Bellatrix who decides that 'no' and fighting back are her idea of a good time?" Snape shook his head philosophically. "She advanced on me then, her wand down and she struck me around the face, and I struck her back." He turned quickly to Lupin,. "It is the only time I have struck a woman," he added quickly, apologetically.

"It's Bellatrix, why should I care?" Lupin shrugged. "She not a woman; she's a murderous hag."

"Quite. But, my retaliation only fed her madness. I struck her across the face and her head snapped back. I was convinced I would be duelling for my life for retaliating but as soon as she looked back, at that moment, her face was open, attentive and needy. That was what she wanted, from me, a man she loathed and only saw as fodder for humiliation! She wanted to be degraded. I won't even pretend I understood it then, or now. I always knew the woman to be a sadist, but had no idea she had any masochistic tendencies too. She grabbed me and begged me to hit her again." Snape grimaced.

" _Come on, Snape! You'll never get another chance to have at me!" She jutted out her chin, gestured with the tips of her fingers where she wanted him to hit her again. "Then we'll fuck. You'll have the set then – all the Lestranges!" Her shout was full and throaty, anything less sexy, Snape didn't think he had ever heard. She advanced as he backed away, her eyes wide and wild, his hand print red on her cheek. "Come on! This isn't just something for the boys, is it? I've got an arse too! I can do things for you that none of your nancy boy friends could ever do."_

" _Whether I'm interested or not, eh Bellatrix," Snape sneered._

" _Oh, I can make you interested, all right ..." she purred, her twisted wand dancing in her hand now. The game was on. She smiled superciliously and made to grab for his crotch in an ugly gesture that revolted him, and Snape sent a Stinging Hex to her hand, rather than give any more ground._

" _You filthy half-blood!" she roared. "Do you think you can turn me down any more than you were able to turn down my husband and his brother?"_

" _Enough Bella!" Snape spat, instantly casting a violent Repulsion Hex in his fury that sent her flying over the room and through the door, which he then warded._

"It's not as if I could ever let down my guard around her anyway. Physically throwing her out of my room really made no difference to our animosity for each other," Snape commented.

"Ugh. Everything about that woman is wrong," Lupin said. "You can't imagine her and Rodolphus ever being love's young dream, can you?"

"She'd stopped sharing her husband's bed long before her imprisonment in Azkaban," Snape said. "The sole object of her passion by then was the Dark Lord."

Lupin's eyes widened. "And did he ...?"

"No-one was ever allowed to touch the Dark Lord. I don't know how long he'd been celibate but by the time I took the Dark Mark he decried, and still does, carnality as a deviation from the purity of purpose of achieving great magic. But Bellatrix, she lolled about before him like a bitch on heat, but he would never touch her. However, and really this is too foul, he would use magic to – how shall I describe it to you - relieve her, when she became too overwrought."

"No!" Lupin exhaled. "In front of everyone?"

Snape nodded. "It was like watching a puppy hump a chair – really – it was too appalling."

"And what of her husband? What did he do? How did he feel?" The sheer wrongness of allowing another to touch one's mate was written across Lupin's features.

"What could he do?" Snape shrugged. "Duel the Dark Lord for his wife, who clearly didn't want him anymore?"

"No, I suppose not. So ... out of interest ... what magic did he use?"

Snape narrowed his eyes at Lupin. "I think it best I don't tell you."

Lupin smiled shrewdly in a way that made Snape's stomach flip.

 

 

oooOOOooo

The next Order meeting was depressing.

The news of the escape of the ten Death Eaters was a major blow for the Order, most of whom were well-versed with the depredations of most of those – vicious and violent and determined in the service of the Dark Lord. And yet, still Fudge refused to acknowledge the renaissance of the Dark Lord. The breakout was reported by _The Daily Prophet_ to be masterminded by Black, compounding his criminal status, and depressing him even further. He now loomed over the Order meetings as if he himself had become a mournful spectre of Grimmauld Place.

Fudge's hysterical wilful ignorance had even extended its malign influence to Hogwarts and the news reported by Minerva that Umbridge was doing her level best to suppress news of the escape by enacting a decree to prevent teachers discussing anything outside their own subjects with the students and monitoring any discussions in the staffroom was most unwelcome.

Arthur Weasley reported that Broderick Bode, his friend from the Ministry (who worked as an Unspeakable and had been _Imperiused_ into attempting to steal the Prophecy and had of course become mad and had been hospitalised in St. Mungo's) had been strangled by Devil's Snare disguised as a pot plant on the same evening as the escape of the ten. _No wonder,_ Snape thought, _the Dark Lord had been so happy._

_S_ nape reported that he had obtained further information from Wilkes. Another two werewolf packs had pledged their allegiance to the Dark Lord. The packs were from the Midlands and were quite feral and bloodthirsty. They would be vicious allies for Greyback to marshal in the Dark Lord's service. However, a large pack in Sussex had turned Greyback away. Two large colonies of vampires in London had now pledged to him also.

"Rather than talking politics of anti-werewolf legislation or historical rights and wrongs of how vampires have been treated, the Dark Lord's promise has become a very simple one to both the vampires and the werewolves: as much Muggle blood as they want with access to that of Muggle-borns or blood traitors at the Dark Lord's discretion," said Snape, without emotion, to the muttering of horror around the table.

"We have to accept that there are those we will never be able to attract to our cause," Dumbledore said sadly. "Those who, as Remus so aptly put it, are too far down the Dark path. We must concentrate our efforts on those whose allegiance we have a chance of winning."

"It is a lot to put on Remus's shoulders, don't you think?" Black said challengingly. Despite its originator, Snape was grateful for the comment. It seemed that Lupin was expected to win the allegiance of the whole population of British werewolves. It was too much to ask.

"I think I can help," said Tonks.

The Order members turned as one at the unexpected interruption.

"My ... friend ... David is a werewolf. He works for Gringotts. He knows of our work – well – he has asked to be included – he'd like to join the Order and help Remus with the packs. He'll take a sabbatical to work on it full-time if you agree."

"Does he realise how dangerous this work is?" Dumbledore asked, to Snape's anger. He caught Lupin's eyes.

_See how he takes you for granted – throwing you in the way of danger and distress! Any other, and he's all concerns and paternal smiles,_ he fumed.

_What? And he doesn't take you for granted?_ Lupin retorted. Then he spoke aloud:

"I've met David. I can certainly vouch for him. I don't think it would be wise to let David strike out on his own just yet. He's young, and never run with a werewolf pack ..."

"... Oh, and you had when you were twenty?" Black snapped. "Who taught you to interact with the packs back then?"

"That's not the point, Sirius," Lupin said firmly. "I know now, and I was going to suggest, if we all agree, David travels with me. He can learn from me and – well – it will be safety in numbers for me too. I leave for the pack in Sussex as soon as possible."

Snape wanted to disagree, to force him to stay at home, to be safe, but Lupin's eyes caught his and Lupin echoed Snape's farewell when he was last called to the Dark Lord.

_I love you. I promise I will stay safe._

* * *

 

**A/N: For any readers who are interested to know more about Idris and Alphard, I've put up a companion piece in a series "Old Friend".  It runs in time with this series and, occasionally, they will converge.**


	65. Mysteries, Old and New

There was another Order meeting three days later and Tonks brought David with her. He was tall, brown haired and, if Snape were to describe his disposition, he would not say 'sunny' because he didn't think in those terms. But David was cheerful and outgoing, smitten with his mate and obviously delighted by her gift as an animagus as she fashioned various animal faces at Moody's more overt idiosyncrasies, clearly playing up to her mate. (Snape wondered if it was possible to tut telepathically when Lupin made a lewd comment to him about what Tonks might be able to change into for David's benefit – he realised it wasn't meant to be unkind, but really, he thought his husband's taste was sometimes really quite questionable or perhaps Snape was just too reserved.) He'd given his own report and was now lost in his own thoughts about Remus Lupin's body behind his mask of indifference. Lupin was leaving tomorrow morning and had asked him to stay this night. _As if it was even up for_ _question,_ Snape thought.

oooOOOooo

By rights, Lupin should have been his this night with the waning of the moon but he knew now that when Lupin went to the packs, his smell had to be right. It had become their pattern now and Snape relished it for, when he had to cede to Lupin like this, Lupin's attentions became sharply focused on Snape's pleasure, and his alone.

And so it was that Snape was stretched out on the bed, and Lupin was feathering every part of his skin with kisses, or with small bites or swirls with his tongue where he knew Snape liked them best, his fingers and hands stroking or grasping his skin to work in concert with his mouth. Whether it was the kisses he lavished on Snape's thighs as his hands stroked his chest; or the small bites to his stomach and chest, gently licking around the bites and into the hollow of Snape's neck as his fingers stroked down the sides of Snape's body to make him arch into Lupin's mouth, or the light sucking on his ear lobe or his Adam's apple as Lupin's hand's caressed Snape's face: it all combined to make Snape writhe with the gorgeousness of Lupin's touches upon his skin, each and every one sending thrill upon thrill throughout his body, his pleasure mounting with his desire and the heat pooling harder and harder in his groin, although he could do no more than run his hands through Lupin's hair and sign and moan with delight, either closing his eyes to intensify the sensation, or watching his beloved's face making his heart pound harder.

Lupin traced his kisses and small bites from Snape's throat slowly down his breast bone to his navel, tracing the cup of it with a swirl of his tongue, sending a magical tingle that pierced through Snape's body making him moan loudly at the unexpected sharpness, before continuing down to tease the tip of Snape's erection, that feeling that was unlike any other, so exquisite and unique. Snape hands grasped at Lupin's hair as he murmured into his pillow, as Lupin dragged his tongue down Snape's cock and up again, his hands grasping Snape's hips as he took Snape's cock in his mouth, making Snape groan loudly at the hot wetness of Lupin's mouth moving up and down against his shaft, tracing his tip with his tongue and edge of his teeth.

It was always when Lupin did this that Snape began to lose control, his body stretching and arching, and his hips beginning to buck into the waves of pleasure Lupin's mouth produced, feeling Lupin smile against his cock every time Snape moaned against a lick of his tongue or a nip of his teeth or a noisy sucking of the shaft, feeling his pleasure mount, pushing his conscious mind away as Lupin's hands moved under him, grasping his backside, tilting his hips to prepare him with his fingers, finding his prostate with them so Snape's mind almost unravelled at the pleasure of his sweet spot being excited and his cock being so tantalised.

Snape uttered a deep, long moan as his fingers tightened in Lupin's hair. "Please ..." he managed to groan, now so near to his orgasm, he could barely speak. Lupin hummed against Snape's cock, sending a further deep thrill through him, as he slowly took his mouth away and drew his body back over Snape's, kissing as much of his skin as he could, until he was face to face with Snape once more, as his fingers still worked, driving Snape's need and feeding his desire, only briefly removing them to line up his own cock, just resting it tantalisingly at Snape's opening, tracing his tip against it.

"Please!" Snape gasped into Lupin's mouth, as his hands grasped Lupin's backside to pull it forwards. Lupin leant into kiss Snape, their tongues lapping around each others as Lupin traced Snape's opening to tantalise him more, Snape's gasps of breath interrupting their kiss until Lupin pushed in as he pulled one of Snape's legs over his forearm.

Snape arched sharply and cried out, wrapping his other leg around Lupin's waist as he hands flew upwards to hold the bedstead, driven to the edge and knowing exactly how he needed it now, at such a pitch of heightened pleasure that he thought he would split in two. "Harder please ... oh please," he panted as Lupin moved into him deeply and slowly, each plunge as slow as he could, each man feeling the friction against each other as Lupin pushed his arms under Snape's shoulders to hold him tighter as he gradually increased his pace, murmuring his love and the name of his love now against Snape's ear, his thrusts increasing in depth and pace as Snape cried out against each thrust, now striking his prostate with accuracy. Snape started to buck back as much as he could, his grasp around the bedstead now white-knuckle tight as his body screamed for his release as Lupin whispered to him, "Wait for me, my darling, wait."

_Not for much longer_ , his mind gone, his whole body thick with hot pulsing passion, he almost whimpered his inarticulate need, "Remus ... please ... I can't ... need to ..." but he couldn't finish his plea, his orgasm had built to the point of pain. Lupin grasped his backside hard and trust hard and fast and deep, his pace no longer measured and controlled, sweat dripping from his forehead as he brought himself to the same pitch of arousal as Snape, and then found Snape's cock. It only took two long hard strokes of Lupin's hand and Snape could hold on no longer, his orgasm fiercely washing over him with a hoarse cry as he raised his own hips for Lupin to go deeper still, his orgasm following quickly with a shout as he buried his head into Snape's exposed neck, his head thrown back as his release ebbed slowly from him, leaving him breathless, his thigh muscles trembling against Lupin's damp body.

Lupin, still panting, lowered himself next to Snape and they calmed together in each other's arms, gently kissing, neither speaking until sleep took them both.

oooOOOooo

Snape didn't want Lupin to go, but he supposed at least, this time, Lupin would have company – another civilised, Wolfsbane-using werewolf to keep him centred in the wizarding world. At least, that's what he hoped. He did worry that maybe David would be overwhelmed by the raw and primal atmosphere of a pack. Lupin said it would be a shock for him, and had spent a long time talking him through what he could expect at the Order meeting last night. With the arrogance of youth, David thought he would be able to take whatever came his way. Well, time would tell.

Snape and Lupin went through Lupin's rucksack to ensure there was nothing that needed replenishing, discussing David and Tonks.

"Perhaps, she's just not sure how people like Molly and Arthur will react," Lupin suggested when Snape queried why Tonks had called David her 'friend', not her mate.

"But Bill knows surely and we know Moody does," Snape said as he packed the small stock of potions Lupin carried with him, as well as some salves, astringent and dressings for emergencies.

Lupin shrugged. "I doubt that Molly and Arthur, nice people though they are, would ever think that Tonks would mate with a werewolf. It was one thing for her pureblood mother to marry a Muggleborn. That would be quite acceptable to people like the Weasleys. But, well, it's quite another to marry a half-breed, isn't it? I would imagine that Tonks has thought of this and is trying to spare their blushes rather than being deceitful."

Snape watched Lupin's face as he spoke for signs of upset or disquiet: there was none. He wondered at it – to be able to speak of one's own kind so disparagingly. He found himself cross at Lupin's conditioned acceptance of this perceived lesser status. His jaw worked in annoyance. _One day_ , he promised himself, _one day it will be different for Remus. I will make it different._

Lupin and he finished packing and checking and then shrunk the ruck sack for fit in his robe pocket, and then they took each other into their arms to kiss each other good-bye. They held each other quietly for a while, until Snape spotted David through the window walking jauntily down the street. He told Lupin who kissed him once more and then sped out of the room.

Lupin ran down the stairs, taking two or three at a time, to open the front door before David used the knocker and set off the portrait. Snape smiled. He could hardly blame him: he didn't want to hear Mrs Black mouthing off about one half-breed, let alone two. Black came to the landing at the clatter of Lupin's strides down the stairs. He saw Snape and acknowledged him with something that was a cross between a nod and a sneer and something then passed across his face that Snape couldn't quite put his finger on. Snape reciprocated and then Disillusioned himself so David would not see him as he followed Lupin silently down one flight of stairs, staying out of the range of David's sense of smell.

"Remus!" David greeted Lupin brightly. He was dressed much like Lupin in shabby robes. Snape suspected he had had to have gone to some lengths to find them. He had been employed by Gringotts since leaving Beauxbatons and never known the type of poverty that Lupin clearly had. Snape suspected that this was all a dressing-up adventure for young David. He also suspected David would be disabused of any notion of derring-do very quickly indeed.

Black made his way downstairs, deftly and surprisingly avoiding Snape. He waved lazily to David and wished Lupin well and then turned to go into the kitchen. Snape watched David's reaction. It was odd: he saw David lightly flaring his nostrils as Lupin walked past him to the door, and then turn quickly to look in the direction that Black taken with a knowing smile on his face as he then turned and followed Lupin away. Snape realised with horror that David had smelt sex on Lupin and assumed that Black was his partner. He felt an ugly flush of anger and jealousy, even whilst knowing it was pointless.

_After all, what difference could David's mistaken assumption possibly make to anyone?_

Once they had closed the door, Snape removed the charm and made his way down the rest of the stairs and towards the front door to leave for Hogwarts. He had brewing planned for this weekend.

"Snape?" Black's voice. It sounded odd, not commanding or sneering. Asking.

He turned to face Black, who was leaning against the kitchen doorframe, no wand that Snape could see, his face unreadable.

"I ... I wondered ... I hoped," Black's voice seemed to peter out and he coughed. "I want to talk to you."

Snape raised an eyebrow slowly. Surely, Black wasn't going to try to bond with him. It would be too revolting.

"What can we possibly have to talk about?" Snape said brusquely, controlling the sneer that would have been natural; but for Lupin, he restrained it.

"Please," Black said softly, controlling his voice, Snape could hear it. "I want to know what happened to Reg. You were his friend." Black's eyes never left Snape's. "I never knew, you see." His voice caught on the last word.

Snape saw the sadness, the desperation, the longing for knowledge, beseeching for closure. It was all there. In his eyes.

"Who else do I have to ask?" Black said bitterly. Snape understood: when would Black ever have the opportunity to ask a Death Eater for this information? If not Snape – then who? Humanity alone demanded that he answer.

Snape felt his shoulders relax slightly.

"I don't know everything. I don't believe anyone does, but I'll tell you what I know," Snape said.

Black nodded and Snape followed Black into the kitchen where he noted a mug of tea already awaited him. He sat opposite Black, stiff and formal in his chair, Black leaning forward with his elbows on the table, hands wrapping around the mug, attention avid – expectant.

"What do you know?" Snape asked, with a resigned air.

Black let out a whoosh of air and dragged his hands back through his hair. "Very little. I found out when my mother sent me a Howler ..." Snape made no sound, but closed his eyes at the travesty of it. "Yes, a Howler," Black said, picking up on Snape's reaction. "Something along the lines of ' _your brother is dead – would that it had been you'._ " Black stopped and breathed deeply, looking around himself. "It was the last time I visited this house or my mother. I returned to find out what had happened, when the funeral was, you know." Black now stared sadly at his hands, clasped together on the table. It took him time to summon the words. "With Reg's death, the last shred of my mother's sanity left her. When I got here, she was quite deranged.

"I found her in Reg's bedroom, holding one of his robes to herself. Rocking. Wailing." Black was staring into the middle distance now, eyes wide and sad in recollection. "She flew at me, trying to claw at my face." Black's eyes flew down to the table, unable to look Snape in the eyes - not for this. "She said it should have been me. It would have been no loss – a nasty blood traitor like me." He looked up once more, a small bitter smile, but no smile in his glassy, hurt eyes. Snape now understood what he saw: sadness for the lost brother but also for a mother whose love Black had never had.

"I managed to calm her enough to sit her back on the bed, to ask her questions. In between her invective and wishes for my speedy demise, I discovered that there was no body to bury. That Voldemort had killed him or had ordered him killed, she didn't know which. I wanted to know why. How. But all she could tell me was that he had spent days in our library, so much so that she thought he would become ill and then he set out on a mission, he'd called it. He wouldn't tell her where – but that it was dangerous and that he had been wrong, so very wrong – but she didn't know why he said that and then she just sat on his bed." Black screwed his eyes shut. "Shrieking. Even Kreacher was nowhere to be found." Black's eyes now were haunted by the memory.

"I even wrote to Cissy, hoping she could tell me how it happened or where his body was. I didn't know if she would speak to me: she was married to Malfoy by then and he was a dedicated Death Eater, but I hoped. She arranged to meet with me in secret. She told me that Reg he had become scared of the things he was being asked to do, that she had feared it would come to the attention of Voldemort and she had tried to shield him, but she wondered if it finally had come out –she supposed it must have done. She hadn't heard of any duel or assignment he'd been involved in where he might have been killed by the Order or the Ministry, so she could only assume."

Black sat back in the chair, his arms limp at his sides. "That's all I know," he croaked. Snape had never seen such a war of uncovered emotions chase across a man's face: desperation, guilt, sadness, anger, hatred. _Too much time trapped alone in this house,_ Snape thought.

Snape nodded slowly. "I don't know that I can add more. But I will say this: it is true that Reg wanted to leave the Dark Lord's service. He had become embroiled in it so young with so many others in Slytherin ..."

"Including you," Black spat.

"Yes, including me. We were friends. We discussed the Dark Lord often. We both admired him, couldn't wait to be inducted into his service. If I may say, your parents also fed Reg's admiration of the Dark Lord's aspirations for pureblood supremacy," Snape said calmly, hearing and seeing the accusation in Black's tone and face. "Not to mention their sizeable financial contributions to the Dark Lord himself. So large, indeed, I'm surprised they never actually _took_ the Dark Mark," Snape said waspishly.

Black closed his eyes again and held his hands out in a conciliatory gesture.

"You're right, you're right," he admitted, and Snape could tell it was costing him. "I'm sorry. Theirs was a pureblood mania second to none. They admired everything they thought Voldemort stood for and Reg would do anything to please them. As for taking the Dark Mark," Black allowed himself a snort of derision, "I can't see they would ever have allowed themselves to be branded or to serve anyone – they were Blacks, after all," he sneered, his voice bitter. "As far as they were concerned, they were Voldemort's patrons, ha!" he barked. His expression changed and he looked enquiringly at Snape.

"You know, I knew nothing about that – that Dark Mark until the night of Voldemort's return when you showed it to Fudge. Perhaps – if I had - " his expression became distant, "I would have known what to check for ... on Remus and Peter, I mean."

"It wasn't known to any other than Death Eaters and the Dark Lord until he fell. It became public knowledge through the trials, but you were ... well, you were in Azkaban by then. But no, it probably wouldn't have helped you. The Dark Lord would never brand a werewolf. It's a blood brand. It connects us to him so when he calls, we Disapparate and it takes us to him. He would never connect himself by blood to a werewolf. Pettigrew has it, that's true, but even if Remus had been a traitor, he would not have been branded," Snape explained.

"Reg had it?" Black asked quietly, as if the answer should be quiet too, because it was too dreadful to be said out loud.

Snape nodded. "When he was sixteen, with me."

He saw Black mouth the word _'sixteen'_ and closed his eyes with sadness. "Did you know Peter was a Death Eater before?"

"I did not," Snape said, his own brow now furrowed. "I have since learnt he came to the Dark Lord offering up the Fidelius – he received his Dark Mark then."

Black thumped the table with both fists and swore loudly and viciously, and then dropped his head in his hands, shaking it slowly. "He used them ... Lily and James ... to get acceptance?" Black asked, his voice now shaking. "He wasn't already a Death Eater?"

"Correct," Snape said, as softly as he could manage, even though it was to Black. "If you recall, at  
that time, the Dark Lord was almost victorious. Pettigrew resolved on decisive action to change sides and what better than to break the Fidelius for the Dark Lord." He was going to add that it was ironic that Pettigrew's act of treachery in the end defeated the Dark Lord, but he could see Black would not appreciate that irony as it was he, Black, who had given Pettigrew his admission offering. He remained quiet and still until Black collected himself.

"Is it right – I mean – did Reg tell you he was having second thoughts?" Black asked, his voice now quite thick with emotion.

"Yes. You knew Reg. He was not cruel or unkind. He agreed with all Voldemort's ideas on blood purity and wresting power away from Muggles and Muggleborns, but the way of Death Eaters began to sicken him. Yes, he was interested in magic – increasing his magic – becoming more powerful in his magic. But once the Muggle killings started, the torture and maiming of wizards and witches who would not join the cause, he began to question what he was doing – not to the Dark Lord himself, but to me or to Narcissa. He became very troubled. Then the Dark Lord asked him for a favour. I don't know what it was – I just heard him ask for a favour as he led him to another room. Whatever it was, Reg seemed excited – honoured to be serving the Dark Lord. I assumed the favour could not have included any cruelty then. I don't know what happened next, but he sent me a letter a short time later saying he'd discovered something, something quite terrible and he needed to discuss it with me. He said it changed everything."

"What? What was it?" Black asked, breathily.

"I don't know. It was the last I heard from him," Snape said, watching Black's evident disappointment. "The next I knew, the Dark Lord announced that Reg was dead, and that was all."

"So, he – Voldemort – must have been behind it." Black's voice sounded hollow, resigned.

"I don't know. Not necessarily. He would know if a Death Eater died through the Dark Mark. I always wondered if it was him, because if the Dark Lord is angry or someone betrays him, he always makes a public example of them. Even if he had killed Reg away from us, I feel sure he would have told us – gloated. But he didn't." Snape sat silently for a while, regarding Black, not really sure what else he could say. "I'm sorry – I know no more."

Snape stood and started to walk to the door.

"But he was changing his mind, wasn't he? I mean, that's something, isn't it?" Black said, seeking reassurance.

Snape stopped as he opened the kitchen door, and inclined his head toward Black; to Snape Black looked like a broken man.

"Yes, he was. It is something."

oooOOOooo

Snape dropped into the chair opposite Dumbledore, slightly breathless, but this time, not from torture, but his brisk walk from the gate, across the grounds, through the castle and straight to the Headmaster's office direct from his meeting with the Dark Lord. He took the tea that Dumbledore offered.

"The Dark Lord has set me an assignment. Homework, if you will," Snape drawled. "A project that he intends to unleash when he makes himself known yet again."

Dumbledore leant forward quickly. "A potion?"

"How astute of you," Snape said and rolled his eyes. Dumbledore did not react, his eyes continuing to meet those of Snape. Snape exhaled heavily. "To be precise: a poison. At the instigation of Bellatrix, the Dark Lord requisitioned a potion that detects Muggle blood and destroys it."

Dumbledore sat quietly for a while, his face impassive. "An impressive feat, if it can be done. Does he not see the flaw?" Dumbledore eventually asked softly.

"That it would kill him too? He has not admitted it. When we discussed it at the meeting, as you can no doubt imagine, Bellatrix delighted in pointing out that it would rid the magical world, not only of Muggles and Muggleborns, but of half-bloods like you – oh, and me," Snape clipped out, with a wave of his hand. "She, at one point, even insisted on being the inventor and brewer herself. I'm afraid I could not contain my annoyance. Bellatrix is a potioneer truly worthy of derision. Her instability renders her impossibly impatient and ludicrously histrionic. She prances around a cauldron, chanting – chanting for Merlin's sake - lobbing in ingredients with a flourish. I rather lost my temper ..."

"You don't say ..." Dumbledore chuckled.

" ... and told her her brewing antics were comparable to a scene from _Macbeth."_

"And how did she react?" Dumbledore asked, amusement in his voice.

"She had no idea what I was talking about. Muggle literature is a closed book to Bellatrix."

"Very droll, Severus."

Snape snorted. "Shakespeare was the greatest exponent of the magic of word-craft, but to Bellatrix, he is nothing but a filthy Muggle."

"Dearest Bellatrix." Dumbledore shrugged gently. "I have to confess to a scintilla – a soupçon even – of delight that Bellatrix does not know of her precious Voldemort's Muggle origins. I often wish I could be the one to tell her. I fear her reaction would be – quite terrible." Dumbledore's tone told Snape that Dumbledore had no such fear at all.

"Indeed." Snape allowed himself a small smirk. "The Dark Lord believes that because his body is a cursed construction, it couldn't be harmed by it. However, I did – ah – reason, if that is an appropriate word, that his body was raised by the blood of a half-blood and the flesh of a different half-blood so proper care would need to be taken."

"I should imagine he did not take that well," Dumbledore commented.

"He did not."

"Did he hurt you?" Dumbledore asked.

"It was not my turn today. Dearest Bellatrix received the curse for promulgating the idea without thought. It was her _correction._ " Snape emphasised the appalling euphemism that the Dark Lord had taken to using.

"Was she even aware of how her master was restored?" Dumbledore's eyebrow raised into his hairline.

"I'm sure she knows now. Surely, you don't feel pity for her, after everything you've just said?"

"I can't rejoice in anyone's torture, Severus. Not even Bellatrix's," Dumbledore said quietly. Snape snorted softly. Snape wasn't sure he shared that sentiment.

"You know, I'm sure I would be able to find a way to slip the Dark Lord an undetectable poison. Bring all this to an end. I don't understand why you won't let me try."

"No, Severus," Dumbledore said firmly. "It is not time yet. We cannot afford to have him return again."

"Will you tell me why you believe that would happen again?"

"No, Severus. And I must ask you not to enquire too deeply. The job that you do with Voldemort is critical. If he ever suspects you are looking too deeply at his magical defences, you know as well as I that he will kill you. Will you give me your word, Severus?"

"My word? Why do you need my word, on top of the Vow I have already made to you?" Snape responded sharply.

Dumbledore held up his hand in a pacifying gesture. "Be calm, Severus. Understand that you should not make an attempt on Voldemort's life at this stage. As long as you understand, that will suffice."

Snape sat back into his chair and looked away and then nodded.

"So, what is your assignment after all?" Dumbledore asked.

"I have said I will look to inventing a poison that will not activate against magical blood. It would mean that it would not kill half-bloods and Muggleborns, but it's always good to know that you, the Dark Lord and I will be safe," Snape sneered, then his face became set again. "He wants there to be huge Muggle casualties and he's hoping it will affect Squibs too, but I don't think it will. I've always thought Squibs have remnants of magical blood and it reasserts generations later and that's when we get Muggleborns."

"Possibly, Severus," Dumbledore considered. "Possibly. How do you propose administering this to the general Muggle population?"

"I had thought an appropriate delivery system would be the water supply."

Dumble nodded slowly, his fingers twirling his beard gently in thought. "You will, of course, find this exercise fiendishly difficult and it will take – I suppose – some years, don't you think?"

"Indeed I do," Snape responded, his face completely blank. "A great many years for a poison of such complexity."

"Let's hope Voldemort doesn't expect results at an unreasonably fast rate."

"Perhaps as my employer, you'd care to remonstrate with the Dark Lord on my behalf – point out the facile nature of his demands? No? I thought not," Snape lips pursed.

oooOOOooo

The table in his quarters was covered in books and papers. This was not, however, work on his Muggle-murdering poison, as he'd named it. He had resolved before Christmas to look into the problems of age with werewolves. Wizards and witches led substantially longer lives than Muggles (accidents and Dark Lords permitting). But it seemed from what Angharad had told him that it was different for werewolves. The toll on their magical core of the monthly transformations rendered their life span more in line with Muggles, if not shorter.

His realisation that Lupin, so alive and energetic, could be doomed to die early from his condition had hit Snape hard. Now, term had started and Lupin was away trying to locate the Sussex pack with David, it was time to start his research in earnest. He had ordered every treatise and book on the Lycanthropy, in addition to the work Poppy had given him. Snape was methodical, diligent but also capable of great leaps of logic once he had mastered his subject matter. It might take time, but Snape was tenacious: a cure was the ultimate goal, but on the way, he would find ways to ameliorate the damage. He swore it to himself.

oooOOOooo

The passing of the weeks had been slow. Snape had spent his time outside his professorial duties in his research and on Potter's frustrating Occlumency lessons.

Lupin and David found the Sussex pack and stayed with them for over two weeks. He had only managed to speak to Lupin in the mirror occasionally as this needed to be kept secret from David. Now, five days before the full moon, they had returned to take the Wolfsbane that Snape had prepared. They had made good progress with the pack. Most had pledged for the Order although a couple of omegas had taken fright and left. They would report in full at the next meeting, after the weekend. Lupin only stayed at Grimmauld Place on the Thursday when they arrived back, but returned to the flat for the weekend, spending the whole of Saturday in bed with Snape, not letting Snape out of his arms until that evening when he finally had to let Snape up, if for no other reason than to administer his Wolfsbane.

Once up, Lupin took his Wolfsbane and then went to the kitchen to make them a simple supper. He popped a crockpot into the oven and then dropped onto the settee next to Snape.

"Thank you for talking to Sirius. He told me yesterday. It meant a lot to him," Lupin said.

"I wasn't able to tell him what happened to Reg though."

"No, but it meant a lot that Reg was changing his mind – drawing away from Voldemort. Sirius was awfully fond of Reg. It was the only thing he regretted about leaving home – leaving Reg behind. I gather little brothers are like that – they get under your skin."

Snape shrugged. What did he know of family dynamics?

"But, really. Thank you. I know you did it for me."

He planted a kiss on Snape's mouth then went to the kitchen to make some tea whilst dinner cooked. "You know, I'm going to push at this, don't you?" he called out.

"Push at what?" Snape called back, as he picked up _The Daily Prophet_ to read.

"Making you both friends!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Remus. Neither Black nor I have any wish to be friends. He wanted information – he asked for it politely – begged even. It would have been churlish not to have imparted it."

"'Churlish not to have imparted it'?" Lupin repeated with a chuckle. "Honestly, Severus, you don't fool me with that imperious Death Eater act for one minute," Lupin continued, laughing as he spoke, "I think if I work on this hard enough, by the time the Voldemort falls, you and Sirius will be bosom buddies. Hell, he might even be godfather to the kids ..."

Snape heard Lupin break off his own sentence and the laughter stop as if mentally admonishing himself. Lupin came back into the sitting room, his face concerned.

"I'm sorry, Severus, it was only a joke. I didn't mean ..."

Snape stood quickly, resolving the longstanding matter on the instant as Lupin spoke, and took Lupin gently by the shoulders and kissed him.

"There is nothing to be sorry for. Nothing at all," Snape said.

"I shouldn't make jokes that make you uncomfortable. I vowed ..."

"No," insisted Snape, and cupped Lupin's face in his hands. "If the Dark Lord falls, I will release you from that vow."

Lupin blinked several times in quick succession and then a huge, bright smile broke over his face.

"You will! You mean it?" Lupin said breathily, his hands clasping Snape's waist. "You've thought it through?"

"Yes, I mean it. Yes, I've thought it through." Snape felt himself flushing very deeply indeed, especially as he recalled his secreted potion that Lupin knew nothing of. He'd been thinking on it for a long time, and now he'd confessed he found himself acutely embarrassed and wittering. "Well, I mean, I might be too old or ... well, yes. I'm only considering it. Don take on, or go on about it, or..."

This time, Snape found his own sentence stopped with a kiss – deep, loving and passionate.

"Thank you, Severus – thank you for even considering it," Lupin whispered.

* * *


	66. Incursion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes in bold from Chapter 26 of OotP are © J.K. Rowling

They lay on the sitting room floor where Lupin had pulled Snape, kissing and holding him and now Lupin's head was lying on Snape's stomach, nuzzling into it as if it were a comfortable pillow, rather than the flat plane it actually was. Lupin's arms were wrapped firmly around him, whilst one of Snape's draped lightly over Lupin's shoulder, and his other hand carded Lupin's hair. Since he had told Lupin he would not hold him to his vow if the Dark Lord were vanquished, Lupin had not left him alone. It was as if their relationship, already so beautifully ardent to Snape, had shifted yet again. If anything, Lupin's attentions had become even more intense and Snape revelled in it.

"What made you think again, Severus?" Lupin asked, his expression soft and enquiring. Snape could not resist stroking the jaw line and tracing the lips of the man he loved.

"You," he said simply. Then he spoke slowly, trying to choose his words carefully as if words could ever encapsulate how he felt – he wasn't sure they could, but he would try. "The way you love me so completely. The way you have made me feel so differently about myself over time – the strength you give me because you love me, no matter how appalling and flawed I am." Lupin opened his mouth to protest, but Snape laid one long finger gently over his lips. "You even made me feel safe and loved in my home where I never knew safety or love." He swallowed audibly, afraid he might choke on his own words, and he calmed himself again.

"I thought I was not an emotional or affectionate man, but you have found those things in me and given me more love than I ever could have realised my life could contain. How much more perfect than to give those things to a child, to share those things with a family of our making? I don't know if I will be a good father and I still fear my own temper and jealousy, but I trust you to help me and guide me – you who seem to have been able to find so much in me I did not know I had. I trust you on it completely."

He saw Lupin's eyes shine as his eyes filled with tears, but neither was embarrassed or even brushed the tears away. That Snape could even make such a speech amazed him, but it was truth, so why should it not be said?

"Tell me about the ritual," Snape said quietly, after some time.

"Well, I'll leave it to you to tell me where the _Electio_ Potion will fit in but I suppose whoever takes it ...

"That would be me if I carry the child," Snape interjected.

"...yes, well you would take that before we start and then, well, you and I … we use our essences …

"Sperm," Snape corrected pedantically.

"Yes, Severus, sperm, if you must be so prosaic about a beautiful ritual."

"You've seen it?"

"Yes, once in a pack I was visiting. So, as I was saying, we collect our essences …

"How? Collect how? Who collects it?"

Lupin started to laugh softly. "You'd hex me into next week for interrupting you this often," he said gently, squeezing his sides.

"I'd give an appropriate amount of detail so there'd be no need to interrupt me," Snape chided.

"Very well, Severus," Lupin said, an amused smile still playing on his features. "If we were in a pack, the ritual would be celebrated before the pack ..."

"What, the sex and everything?"Snape asked, horrified.

"Yes, ' _the sex and everything_ ' including the ritual, and the pack witnesses would join the incantation with us. You know how treasured cubs are in a pack so it is a pack celebration, and we certainly don't have the same hang-ups about sex that some wizarding people do," Lupin smiled indulgently at Snape's wide-eyed horror. "But we are not part of a pack, so we will do this together, privately."

"Not here though, but somewhere beautiful ..." Snape said quietly, looking wistful.

"Yes, somewhere beautiful ... and tranquil." Lupin watched and waited for Snape, who eventually snapped his attention back to him.

"Go on," he said.

"You and I do whatever we wish to make each other orgasm and collect our sperm in a ceremonial chalice."

Snape nodded as if it were a better explanation, but for one thing: "Do werewolves have a ceremonial chalice just hanging about then?"

"Ah, you see, you have succumbed to the age-old wizarding prejudice. Of course, packs normally do. They are wizards and witches after all," Lupin scolded gently. Snape flushed a little pink at his own presumption. "We perform an incantation which perfects a zygote from our essence …"

"Sperm," Snape reiterated.

"No. Essence," Lupin insisted. "We both know that mixing sperm together would never make a zygote. But the magic we generate in the incantation reduces our sperm to our reproductive essence at its most primal level to make the zygote. When that this complete, I make the womb in you."

"You touched me there – my navel – with your tongue when we made love before you left for Sussex. I felt the magic, only briefly. It cut through me," Snape said, remembering the extraordinary feeling.

"It is meant to be erotic. More erotic than anything else either of us could ever feel. I suppose it is to encourage us to have many children!" Lupin laughed as Snape raised an eyebrow. "Then we make love, chanting the incantation to transfer the zygote together so it implants in the womb that I've made."

"Like when you force-fed me," Snape said.

"No, Severus! Nothing like that at all!" Lupin complained.

"I meant transference magic!" Snape clarified, now his own smile broadening.

Lupin coloured slightly at his own misunderstanding. "Yes, sorry, Severus," he said meekly.

"Well, that's where we're going to come unstuck then, isn't it?" Snape said with an air of finality.

Lupin's eyebrow raised in enquiry.

"Well, I'm not very articulate, am I, when we have sex? Good grief, Remus, I can barely remember my own name by then let alone recite an incantation!" Snape admitted with embarrassment. Lupin smiled hugely.

"It is a superb accomplishment of which I am enormously proud, Severus, that I, Remus Lupin, impoverished werewolf of this parish can render you, Severus Snape, connoisseur of the cutting comment," _kiss,_ "supremo of the supercilious sneer," _nuzzle,_ "the virtuoso of vicious verbiage, the biting barb in badinage," _kiss_ "the jagged jibe - incapable of speech or even coherent thought on my cock or my tongue." Lupin kissed Snape's stomach once more as Snape rolled his eyes and then laughed. "I also find it very sexy," Lupin chuckled. Snape didn't know whether to be amused or appalled, but even Lupin teasing him about his inability to speak during sex made his stomach squirm and then heat deliciously.

"So you can alliterate as well as you fellate," Snape said, with mock scorn.

"Not your best put-down, Severus," Lupin smiled.

"Not a put-down at all, actually. More of a request," he answered, his cock stirring very obviously now.

"Mmmm, you could practise talking while I take care of this for you," Lupin said mischievously, rubbing his hand against the growing tent in Snape's trousers. "What do you think?"

"I think you should allow me to be helplessly delirious until the Dark Lord falls – to keep me motivated ..." Snape retorted, stretching out in anticipation as Lupin spelled away Snape's shirt and then delved into his trousers and stroked Snape's cock with his hands and then he freed it from his trousers by pushing them down his thighs, and took it in his mouth, at first gently until Snape started to moan and writhe, holding Lupin's hair and watching as much as he could, straining to see Lupin's hot mouth working around his cock generating searing intensity, and groaning every time he saw Lupin's tongue dance around the tip of it, then hungrily and noisily, the heated and raw sensations building, making Snape throw his head back as he arched, wiping away Snape's consciousness as if to prove the point as Lupin relentlessly sucked and licked until Snape bucked his hips with his orgasm pulsing into Lupin's throat with a cry, as Lupin gently sucked on him until he was drained, moaning as he did so. Lupin gently kissed Snape's spent cock, and wiped a small amount of sperm from the corner of his mouth and licked it, looking directly into Snape's eyes now gazing glassily at him, as he ran fingers through Lupin's hair, his breath rasping as the pounding in his ears began to recede.

Lupin cleansed him and holding Snape's hip bones, kissed and caressed his stomach until Snape's breathing had calmed once more and then rested his head once more against Snape's still exposed skin.

"Are you going to become obsessed with my stomach now?" Snape said, a small smile playing on his lips.

"I was already obsessed with your stomach," Lupin admitted, "I just had to hide it from you." He kissed Snape's stomach as if to emphasise the point.

Snape sat up slowly, leaving Lupin's head in his lap, and stroked his hair and his face as Lupin turned his face to look up at him.

"Is it really as strong as the bites?"

"Oh yes," Lupin smiled. "And sometimes, when I stroke it, beautifully flat as it is, I can imagine it full and round with our child inside." Lupin ran the flat of his hand over Snape's stomach, his fingers tracing the cup of the navel as Snape watched his hand, as if hypnotised. "Does that upset you?"

"A year ago, when I found out it could happen, it would have revolted me, Remus. It would have been a sign of how my body could be used to enslave me – emasculate me. Now," Snape sighed as his own hand hovered over Lupin's, "even the thought of you stroking my stomach like that makes me feel …" Snape searched for a way to express how he felt, his own brain busy conjuring the pictures Lupin was painting, "loved and proud that a loving man such as you wants a child with – a man like me."

Lupin kissed his stomach, and Snape laughed. "Of course, it won't be beautifully flat once a baby's stretched it," Snape said, stunned that he could even joke that way. He wasn't a woman who had grown up expecting that her body could host a living, growing being. He knew it was possible for a man, and that there were conception magics, but even so, not once in his life had he ever thought of his body as an incubator until Lupin had explained this werewolf magic. Then he had fallen so deeply in love that even he had come to believe that this would be right for them. And now, here he was joking with his husband about losing his flat stomach. Perhaps, he was mad. It felt surreal. But it also felt so right.

Lupin hummed into his Snape's skin. "Lupine healing. You will be perfect again, I promise you." Snape's stomach flipped.

"Who would perform the section? Lupercalian Section, Angharad called it."

Lupin raised his head onto his hand. "If we were in a pack, it would be the pack mother."

"So, if we were with Idris's pack – Angharad would do it?"

Lupin nodded, still smiling. "But as we're not, we could ask Poppy."

Snape's eyes widened in shock, and he saw Lupin's smile broaden.

"I think Poppy would be honoured, don't you?" Lupin said, matter-of-factly.

"Yes," he croaked, coughed and smiled sheepishly. "It's quite a concept to take in, but she would probably be more relaxed about it than I am," he admitted. "Is it very different to a Caesarian Section?"

"I believe not in procedure, but it's much less dangerous. Once the baby is born, you heal much faster by the magic that made the womb in the first place."

Snape nodded. He needed to ask the next question, and he feared the answer more than anything and even that annoyed him, man of logic that he was supposed to be. He steeled himself.

"How …" Snape inhaled deeply again, determined to bite out the question. "How do I feed the baby … do I …? " His throat dried out instantly, looking at Lupin's gently amused expression. No, there was no help for it – he knew he was blushing bright crimson by the intense heat that rushed up his neck to his face. "Merlin help me," he growled to himself. "Would I have to grow breasts?" There, it was out. He closed his eyes, covering them with his hands against the answer.

Lupin sat up and laughed, a deep, resonant, joyful laugh that provoked a crooked smile from Snape. "Dear Merlin, no! What stories have you been told?" He took hold of Snape's hands as the tension slowly left his body. "From the ancient days, when Lupercalia invented the ritual, all werewolves ran in packs so such a child would have been fed by one of the mothers in the pack; perhaps a beta mother would be chosen. It was never the case that the man could feed the child as a woman would."

Snape couldn't hide his relief. The book had said nothing on the subject of feeding; this must have been why. "Well, there could be no better person to mix a formula for infant milk than I, surely," Snape said, smiling at his own weak joke, but underlying it, a relief that was really quite profound.

 

* * *

It had been three long weeks since he had seen Lupin. They had only managed to talk briefly every so often with the mirrors to avoid David knowing about Snape (or rather, remembering Snape). Between Lupin's absence, Potter's ongoing disastrous Occlumency lessons and the poisonous atmosphere at the school created by Dolores Umbridge and her ridiculous inspections, probations and increasingly hysterical decrees, he had thrown himself into his werewolf research to keep himself sane, and doing enough research on his Muggle-murdering potion as he needed for it to look realistic enough to keep himself alive.

In truth, if his loyalty to the Dark Lord were pure as it had been all those years ago, he realised that he could indeed have invented this poison. The deep disgust at this realisation had left quite a taste of bile in his mouth. All those years ago, he could have been a mass murderer, without question – there would have been no chance for any redemption then. He could only thank fate that he didn't have the skill then that he had now.

Still, Lupin was due back shortly. He'd just given Potter another woefully unproductive lesson and then left Hogwarts to wait at Grimmauld Place with the Wolfsbane for both men. He'd saved _The Quibbler_ with Potter's interview for Lupin to read and had left that in Lupin's room.

Lupin and David let themselves in. Snape and Black waited for them in the kitchen in silence, Snape with two smoking flasks of Wolfsbane. Snape noticed there was no friendly banter as they came along the lengthy hallway, like last time. In fact, they didn't talk at all. All that could be heard was the deep grumbling of Black's deranged house-elf and his vicious tirade against half-breeds. This did not bode well.

Both men came through the door, pale, dirty, smelly and, Snape could tell by the way they held themselves, hurt. He removed his apothecary bag from his cloak and enlarged it and asked Black briskly to get dressing and hot water without further enquiry.

The men sat themselves down gingerly with weary salutations, depositing cloaks roughly against chairs. Snape said nothing, his face a mask of indifference but his eyes caught Lupin's. He didn't know what to say. He wanted to hold him, run his hands over him, see where he was hurt, but he couldn't in front of David.

 _I'm so pleased you're back,_ he thought.

 _My love, so am I,_ Lupin's mind voice sounded strained.

Snape tore his eyes away and out loud, he said brusquely, "Tell us where you are hurt and tell us what happened."

Black brought what Snape asked for and then set about making tea and sandwiches for the men.

Lupin took his shirt off to display various large bruises, cuts, scratches and hex burns, and David had similar. Snape worked silently with his salves and potions as the men told the tale.

"Well, you know we were going to this large urban pack in Birmingham. We found them living out of a derelict industrial estate just outside the city. I'd say there were over one hundred in this pack, wouldn't you say, David?"

The young man nodded as he gratefully received a mug of tea from Black, Snape noting that he was very much subdued.

"It was different to any other pack I've been with," Lupin continued. "Absolutely brutal even amongst themselves and very few of the usual pack rules apply. There is so little freedom for the pack to move, they are no better than caged animals. At best, fractious; at worst, on the edge of murderous fury. I was shocked they had not pledged to Voldemort already, they seemed so bloodthirsty."

"Even to be allowed to share their space before talking to the Alpha, we had to show them we could fight," David interrupted.

"Against each other?" Snape asked, as he cleaned all the cuts on Lupin's torso and arms, and then sealed them.

"No, their choice of opponent. They mis-matched us as much as they possibly could, finding the largest opponents – but luckily for us, large does not mean skilled," Lupin said, hissing as Snape found and healed a broken rib.

"I should say," David laughed sourly. "Remus made short work of the brute they asked him to duel …"

"… because that's all he was – large and scarred – so he looks intimidating, but too large to move well and only three attacking spells in his armoury and no defensive spells at all! Can you believe it? A second year could do better. Sorry, David. That's a bit of an in-joke – I taught Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts for a while," Lupin explained and then resumed. "I Disarmed him and bound him in short order: it wasn't even a contest. Thank you, Severus," Lupin said, snatching a look into his eyes, as Snape finished rubbing in the Bruise Salve to his back and then moved to David.

"Mine wasn't quite so useless, but luckily Remus has been helping me train, and I eventually bested him," David said, perking up, anxious to impress the three seasoned campaigners he currently spoke to. He would have been wide-eyed, had one eye not been swollen shut and vividly black and blue.

"I'll call Poppy for that eye," Snape said, "when I've finished with these bruises."

David nodded, his expression becoming closed with distrust as he looked at Snape. Snape registered it but didn't wonder at it. Youngsters had no subtlety or nuance to understand what Snape did or how he did it. He carried on tending the young man's bruises, impervious to the occasional worried look he received, and setting his expression to be more intimidating, so that every time David caught Snape's eyes, his glare was harsh and forbidding.

"So, we'd earned our admission," Lupin continued. He ran his hand through his dirty hair. "It was just the start. Every day, someone or other, man or woman, would challenge us for our possessions, especially any food, or just try to steal things while we slept. It wasn't just us; they would behave like this with each other too. They thought nothing of walloping you as you passed to get the element of surprise. They are properly feral. I've been with Dark packs that still have honour amongst themselves, if not for others."

"I never knew werewolves lived like that," David said quietly, the eagerness now absent from his features.

"Thought they would at least all be noble savages, did you?" Snape sneered. David looked shocked at the cutting edge in Snape's voice. Snape smirked. "There are Muggles and wizarding folk who live like that as well in large cities if they're too poor or too damaged to fit in," Snape observed. "Lost people in the most anonymous of places."

"Yes," Lupin said quietly, "lost people. Still," Lupin said, shaking off his reverie, "we were in and eventually managed to work our way to speaking to the Alpha of the pack. His name is Magnus. Brutish and powerful, physically and magically. I had to duel him several times before he'd even listen to what I had to say. 'Might is right' would be his maxim. He had already been approached by Greyback and some of his lieutenants. They had fought viciously, but Magnus would not concede, and refused to pledge. I thought there must be some room for me to manoeuvre if he hadn't pledged. I was wrong. They won't pledge to either side. Magnus's view is: whoever wins, their lives will not change – they will always be outcasts but they won't risk Azkaban for anyone's politics."

"Politics!" Black barked, and squeezed Lupin's shoulder companionably, to that small knowing smile from David that Snape spotted. "Since when has life and death been politics!"

Snape rolled his eyes as he went to fire-call Poppy.

 

oooOOOooo

After Poppy had left, David had left to see Tonks, and, after Lupin had showered, he went to join Snape in his bedroom where no sooner had Lupin warded the room than he pulled Snape to the bed and crouched at Snape's feet, holding Snape's face in his hands.

"What is wrong?" he said gently. "I've watched you all evening tending to us and I can tell you have pain. What is it? Is Voldemort torturing you still?"

Snape ran his hands through Lupin's hair. His headache was low level but it rarely left him now and somehow Lupin knew. He didn't want to lie to Lupin. In fact, he wasn't sure he could, but it had all become so complicated, he wasn't sure how to tell him. He took a deep breath.

"You know that both Albus and the Dark Lord wanted me to teach Potter Occlumency, albeit for different reasons?" Snape said quietly. Lupin nodded, dropping his hands to hold Snape's hands between his own. "The unfortunate part of it is that Potter does not want me to teach him."

"How is that related to this?" Lupin asked, frowning.

"The boy fights me constantly," Snape said wearily.

"But that's good isn't it?" Lupin asked, clearly confused.

"No, he fights _not_ to learn. He will not control his emotions or empty his mind. He never practises. I know he secretly relishes the connection for the insight it gives him."

"I'm sure that's not true, Severus. Why would he? He knows Dumbledore wants him to learn, and I told him he must do his best to learn from you when I took him back to Hogwarts in the New Year."

"He is so resistant to me and the more he resists, the more he hurts himself. He hurts himself when I am in his mind and sometimes that pain rebounds on me. I have just come from a lesson with him. It normally takes a while to settle. It will die down shortly; it's not like before."

"Before? What do you mean?" Lupin asked sharply. Snape closed his eyes. Sometimes he forgot how much happened in Lupin's absence.

"The Dark Lord has withdrawn his instruction to me to break open the boy's mind, so it has become somewhat easier for me – at least, for the time being. Before, the Dark Lord always _Legilimised_ me for my memories of the lessons. Double the headache," Snape said, tapping his forehead with a faint smile.

"Withdrawn? Why?" Lupin asked gently.

"Rookwood has now told the Dark Lord the truth of how to get the Prophecy that I had withheld by feigning ignorance. He has now told me not to try to crack open Potter's mind – instead he wishes to be more subtle – to direct the boy there to retrieve the Prophecy or assist him to. Dumbledore strengthens the wards every week, but I feel the intrusion in the boy's mind. Potter simply will not close his mind. He should train with someone he respects. You could teach him better than I. He respects you."

"You're a far superior Occlumens, Severus," Lupin stated, moving to sit next to Snape on the bed.

"It's rather irrelevant if he refuses to learn, don't you think?" Snape sighed. "The point is that I am achieving nothing while he refuses, he continues to dream what the Dark Lord directs him to dream, which is to get to the Department of Mysteries. I see it every time I enter his mind."

"Has he not yet thrown you out?" Lupin asked, now clearly concerned.

"Not once. He produced a Stinging Hex against me in the first lesson but nothing since. Nothing. He makes a ridiculous fuss flailing about as if I force myself into his mind, but I do not. Getting into his mind is as easy as spreading butter. You know, Remus, that I can enter a mind forcefully if I wished but I do not cast with violence, just determination, and I can call his memories to me as easily if I leafed through a book. The trouble is that he doesn't want _me_ to look and he fights that, rather than building barriers to block my entrance in the first place. All he ends up doing is damaging himself and so leaves himself more open to the Dark Lord's thoughts. I make sure Albus sees the memory of each lesson so he knows the danger the boy is in, but," he shook his head, "he will not relieve me of the responsibility for it."

"This is ridiculous – you're both being hurt through this," Lupin said. "Okay, so Dumbledore refuses to teach Harry because he thinks that will interest Voldemort even more to try to possess Harry. So, what if we can just get Sirius to tell Harry to trust you – say that you and he have reached an understanding and you can be trusted ..."

"That's a terrible idea, Remus," Snape said.

"But why?" Lupin said, crossly. "I mean, surely it would do Harry good to know that this old rivalry can be put aside and that people can work together when they have a common goal," Lupin said pleadingly. "I hate that he carries this old rivalry as if it's his own."

"You forget, Remus, I do everything to encourage it," Snape said. "I am a Death Eater who scorns the Boy Who Lived. I treat him disrespectfully. His enmity towards me pre-dates his knowledge of who you and Black are." Of course, Snape would never fully confess to Lupin the depth of his dislike for the child of James Potter, confused as it was even in his own mind.

"But you're a member of the Order, a double agent. Wouldn't Voldemort expect all its members to trust you – wouldn't that be what he would want? And if we can show that you and Sirius are coming to an understanding then perhaps Harry will learn to trust you and that will help these lessons," Lupin reasoned.

"You are asking for a subtlety in our interactions that would be difficult to sustain. If Black and I are civil to each other, how long before one of you drops your guard and lets something slip about us so that other members of the Order know or Potter finds out."

"Would that really be so bad?" Lupin challenged.

"Of course Potter cannot know!" Snape cried. "The Dark Lord has a direct connection with his mind. Our lives would be over in an instant if that undisciplined child gets this information! Even if Black and I find we are able to string a couple of sentences together without hexing each other, we should not do so in front of anyone other than you and Dumbledore. Our cover is important. If Black and I are seen as even civil when our hatred of each other is legendary, questions will be asked. We cannot afford it! There'll be time enough for _bon homie_ when the Dark Lord falls."

"It's like our life is postponed until that monster dies!" Lupin said, wrapping his arms around Snape at last and resting his head against Snape's.

"It is really, isn't it?" Snape said softly. "But we have everything to gain – everything."

 

oooOOOooo

Even Lupin had tried to convince Dumbledore that Potter should be taught by another and had even offered himself for the task. Dumbledore would not be moved on it: Lupin's work with the werewolves was too important. Snape should continue to teach the boy. And so it was that the lessons continued so very pointlessly.

' **Get up, Potter,'** Snape growled at the boy's ineptitude as, once again, Potter was **kneeling on the floor of Snape's office,** Snape having called up what were clearly **very early memories** of childhood **humiliations** except one – one that chilled Snape when he saw it.

' **That last memory,' said Snape, 'What was it?'** Snape knew, but did the boy?

' **I don't know,' said** Potter. **'You mean the one where my cousin tried to make me stand in the toilet?'** _Idiot child, you think I would be interested in such minor childhood insults! I could teach him a thing or two about a benighted childhood._

' **No,' said Snape softly. 'I mean the one with a man kneeling in the middle of a darkened room ...'**

' **It's ... nothing,'** lied Potter **.**

 **Snape's dark eyes bored into** Potter **'s.** Wisely, the boy **blinked and looked away.**

' **How do that man and that room come to be inside your head, Potter?' said Snape.** Snape had recognised Rookwood being interviewed by the Dark Lord and they had clearly been discussing the Prophecy, but Snape had only seen a snippet of the memory. Of course, he could rip the memory from Potter if he chose to, but that would never do, would it? _But it would give him a taste of what he should be defending himself against,_ Snape thought with some disgust for the boy before him: _it would serve the brat right._

' **It -' said** Potter **, looking everywhere but at Snape, 'it was – just a dream I had.'**

' **A dream?' repeated Snape.**

 **There was a** lengthy **pause during** which Snape fought to control his temper. Did the boy really think he didn't need this skill – that he was in some way immune to the Dark Lord's attacks, when they finally come? And they would certainly come.

' **You do know why we are here, don't you, Potter?' said Snape, in a low, dangerous voice. 'You know why I am giving up my evenings to do this tedious job?'**

' **Yes,' said** Potter **stiffly.**

' **Remind me why we are here, Potter.'**

' **So I can learn Occlumency,' said** Potter **, now glaring at a dead eel.**

' **Correct, Potter. And dim tough you may be -'** The boy **looked back at Snape,** his hatred almost palpable. **'- I would have thought that after over two months of lessons you might have made some progress. How many other dreams about the Dark Lord have you had?'**

' **Just that one,' lied** Potter **.** Why did the boy always think he could lie to Snape who dealt on a daily basis with liars and dissemblers with far greater talent for falsehood than Potter – indeed, was such a dissembler himself.

' **Perhaps,' said Snape, his eyes narrowing slightly,** resolving to try a different tactic – to try to goad the boy to be defensive. ( _Well, the truth often hurts – doesn't it?_ he thought.) **'** P **erhaps you actually enjoy having these visions and dreams, Potter. Maybe they make you feel special – important?'**

' **No, they don't,' said** Potter **, his jaw set and his fingers clenched rightly around the handle of his wand.** _That's it, boy, we have our wands for a reason._

' **That is just as well, Potter,' said Snape coldly, 'because you are neither special nor important, and it is not up to you to find out what the Dark Lord is saying to his Death Eaters.'**

' **No – that's your job, isn't it?'** the boy **shot at him ... in temper. For a long moment they stared at each other,** Snape wondering if the boy had the slightest inkling just how much his ' _job_ ' centred on him.

' **Yes, Potter,' he said, his eyes glinting. 'That is my job. Now, if you are ready, we will start again.'**

**He raised his wand: 'One – two – three – _Legilimens!_ '**

**Dementors** again, but look: the boy **screwed up his face in concentration** trying to see through the memories of Dementors **coming closer.** _That's it_... _think, boy, think! Concentrate! Focus!_ he **mutter** ed **under his breath** , knowing the boy's memories **were growing fainter ...** pushing them back -

Finally, the boy **raised his own wand.**

' ** _Protego!'_**

 **Snape staggered** as his incantation rebounded on him, **his wand flew upwards, away from** the boy and the boy recalled **memories** from Snape in that instant **:** his father **was shouting at** his **cowering** mother **, whilst** Snape as a **boy cried in a corner** , knowing the blows that would follow and then that he himself would be next because his father had caught him crying; himself as **a teenager** sitting **alone in a dark bedroom, pointing his wand at the ceiling, shooting down flies** on a hot late summer's day, because there was no other way to relieve his impotent anger that Malfoy and the Lestranges waited for him on his return to school, knowing what they'd do to him in the abandoned classroom in the dungeons; Petra Bulstrode **laughing as** Snape, a gawky, eleven year old, **tried to mount a bucking broomstick,** and finally succeeding until he was thrown clear, breaking his arm and wrist, the broomstick having been charmed by Mulciber and Avery, on the instructions of Malfoy, so the new half-blood would learn his place **–**

' **ENOUGH!'**

Potter **staggered several steps backwards, hit** ting **some of the shelves. Snape was shaking slightly, and** knew his face had drained, praying Potter had not seen it all **.**

' ** _Reparo,_ ' hissed Snape** to a jar Potter had crashed into as Snape had repelled him and **the jar sealed itself at once. 'Well, Potter ... that was certainly an improvement ...' Panting slightly, Snape straightened the Pensieve in which he had again stored some of his thoughts before starting the lesson,** wishing he could store his whole childhood, far from prying eyes and minds **. 'I don't remember telling you to use a Shield Charm ... but there is no doubt that it was effective ...'** Snape steeled himself. His goading had been far more successful than he had bargained for, and Potter's resistance far stronger than he had thought Potter capable of. Snape must not allow him in that far again, but they must consolidate this. Potter certainly couldn't use a Shield Charm whilst he slept, but perhaps that victory would give him some incentive to learn to erect the Occlusion barrier.

' **Let's try again, shall we?' said Snape.**

**They moved back into position with the desk between them.**

' **On the count of three, then,' said Snape, raising his wand once more. 'One – two -'**

**Snape cried, _'Legilimens!'_**

Now they were **hurtling along the corridor towards the Department of Mysteries, past the blank stone walls, past the torches – the plain black door was growing every larger; he was moving so fast he was going to collide with it, he was feet from it and again he could see that chink of faint blue light –** The Dark Lord was there – right there, directing Potter's mind with pinpoint clarity!

 **The door had flown open!** They were **through it at last, inside a black-walled, black floored circular room lit with blue-flamed candles, and there were more doors all around him – he need to go on – but which door ought he to take -?**

' **POTTER!'** Snape shouted to bring the boy around from the violent intrusion the Dark Lord had just made on his mind, driving the boy to the floor with the strength of it.

The boy **opened his eyes, panting.**

' **Explain yourself!' said Snape,** now **standing over him, furious** that the Dark Lord had used the lesson to drag the boy into his mind **.**

' **I ... dunno what happened,' said** Potter, this time **truthfully, standing up. 'I've never seen that before. I mean, I told you, I've dreamed about the door ... but it's never opened before ...'** There, in front of Snape, the Dark Lord had entered Potter's mind whilst the boy was wide awake and dragged it into his own - it was too frightening. The boy must be made to take this seriously.

' **You are not working hard enough!'** Snape spat. **'You are lazy and sloppy, Potter, it is small wonder that the Dark Lord -'**

' **Can you tell me something, _sir?_ ' said **Potter **. 'Why do you call Voldemort the Dark Lord? I've only ever heard Death Eaters call him that.'**

 **Snape opened his mouth in a snarl –** just as **a woman screamed.**

 **Snape's head jerked upwards** , unerringly drawn to the direction of the scream: the Entrance Hall.

' **Did you see anything unusual on your way down here, Potter?'**

The boy **shook his head** as **the woman screamed again.** Holding **his wand at the ready,** Snape strode out of the office and then ran to the Entrance Hall and pushed through a throng of students to see Umbridge cancel her Levitation spell on Trelawney's luggage, letting it fall unceremoniously on the flagstones, in front of the woman who'd clearly been pulled bodily from her tower. Snape frowned. It appeared Umbridge had taken it upon herself to evict Trelawney. He turned on his heel and swiftly made his way to the Great Hall, signalling to Dumbledore to attend at once from the double doors. _How much further would this woman's excesses go?_ Snape wondered in anger, momentarily forgetting the Dark Lord's incursion into Potter's waking mind. _Never mind, there would be time enough to tell Dumbledore after this fiasco._

Time enough.

 

* * *


	67. Unwelcome Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes in bold from Chapter 28 of OotP are © J.K. Rowling

It was, of course, quite odd that there was now a Centaur on the teaching staff of Hogwarts, although Firenze clearly did not join the school for meals. Howlers had arrived for Dumbledore by the flock. Dumbledore seemed to take note of each and every one and spent time composing erudite and sometimes amusing replies that always contained a mildly-worded but apposite reproof. Snape wondered if Dumbledore had done the same when the Howlers arrived _en masse_ about Lupin. He felt the twinge of his ancient shame, but pushed it away. It was done with; it could never be changed.

He wondered how Lupin was doing on his latest mission. They had located a werewolf pack in the Lake District. It was not on the list held by Wilkes so it had been an unknown quantity. They had been gone for a fortnight and he managed a few conversations with Lupin, but not many. The pack sounded difficult, and Snape was grateful again that David was with him.

oooOOOooo

There had been a schism. The Alpha of the Lake District pack, Zachary, would not pledge to the Order, although he denied he had any allegiance to the Dark Lord. Many in the pack had spoken with Lupin and did not want to be part of a satellite pack for Greyback – they had heard of him, and wanted nothing to do with him – they wanted positive affiliation with the Order. Zachary had been far from pleased at Lupin's interference and Lupin and David and those who wanted to leave had had to duel their way out of the pack. Lupin sent his Patronus to Idris with the names of those who wished to leave and sent them on their way to Snowdonia with the Apparition co-ordinates.

So, once again, before the April full moon, Lupin and David sat around the table at Grimmauld Place, with Snape tending their wounds as Black fed and watered them. A partial victory, although Snape had been angered by Dumbledore's disappointment that the whole pack had not been recruited. At least, Lupin would not now travel until after the full moon. Although Snape would not be able to spend every night with him, it was seven days until the full moon. It was enough to know that he was safe – whether with him at the flat or at Grimmauld Place – not with the packs. Snape felt as content as it was possible for him to feel.

oooOOOooo

"What do you mean: Dumbledore is gone?" Snape croaked, as he sat in Minerva's office thunderstruck.

Minerva explained all that had transpired in Dumbledore's office the previous night, as Fudge had bungled Dumbledore's arrest with the able assistance of Kingsley once Umbridge had found out about Potter's Defence group.

"But you will surely be Headmistress? Dumbledore will have left you instructions about the wards of the castle?" Not questions: demands. So much depended upon it.

But Minerva looked confused. "Well, no, Severus. Dolores Umbridge has procured for herself the appointment by – you'll not be surprised to learn – Educational Decree number 28! And I know nothing more about the wards of the castle than you do."

Snape felt horror rising in his stomach. It would only be a matter of time before the Dark Lord possessed Potter completely. He would have to contact Dumbledore for more instructions on the wards.

Snape had thought the day could not get worse than it had started until a house-elf popped into his class room with a pink parchment requisitioning Snape's entire stock of Veritaserum. His eyebrow rose slowly as he read it.

_I think not,_ he thought to himself as he filled a small but heavy, crystal phial with a neutral base as added a single drop of Veritaserum. None would need to worry about spilling their secrets to Dolores Umbridge.

"Professor Snape."

Snape looked up from his stock book at Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle who stood before him, with their chests puffed out, looking perfectly pompous. He frowned as he saw a tiny silver 'I' underneath Malfoy's prefect's badge.

"And what, pray tell, Mr Malfoy, is this?" he asked silkily, and heard, with disguised dismay, about Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad.

"Well done, each of you. Five points each." _That should please their fathers,_ Snape thought as he dismissed them, wondering just how malicious Umbridge actually was, or whether she really was just clueless.

Chickens were roosting for Umbridge by lunchtime when an explosion rent the air. Snape rushed to the Entrance Hall to see children running this way and that and **pandemonium reigned. Somebody had set off an enormous crate of enchanted fireworks.** Of course, Snape knew it was the Weasley twins; who else would it be? He slipped into the shadows as he saw Filch and Umbridge watching in horror and Disillusioned himself to watch the show.

**Dragons comprised entirely of green and gold sparks were soaring up and down the corridors, emitting loud fiery blasts and bangs as they went; shocking-pink Catherine wheels five feet in diameter were whizzing lethally through the air like so many flying saucers; rockets with long tails of brilliant silver stars were ricocheting off the walls; sparklers were writing swear words in midair of their own accord; firecrackers were exploding like mines everywhere** one **looked, and instead of burning themselves out, fading from sight or fiddling to a halt, these pyrotechnical miracles seemed to be gaining in energy and momentum the longer he watched.**

Snape smirked. Those boys were the bane of his professorial life but, by Merlin, they were talented. He was willing to wager a term's stipend that these fireworks had been enchanted against being extinguished. He, Severus Snape, wasn't one for what tended to be described as 'fun' but he considered that he really would enjoy this.

He left to return to the dungeons for his afternoon lessons and was shortly playing host to one of the dragons. "That will never do," he said silkily to his class as the firework darted around his classroom and, with a lazy flick of his wand, changed the gold sparks to silver. "Better. Miss Spalding," he said to the nearest Ravenclaw, "kindly find our headmistress and advise her that I have an errant firework that needs her expertise." Then he stopped dead and said, "On second thoughts ... not to worry, Miss Spalding." He cast an enchantment and sent the Slytherin-coloured dragon to the Transfiguration classroom. _After all,_ he reasoned, _I have highly combustible materials here and it is her students' prank._ Snape smirked.

By curfew, however, things had taken a very different turn. Graham Montague had been reported as missing. He had not turned up to any of his classes following mid-morning break, and had not been seen at lunch or dinner. Snape had spent hours searching the castle and Hagrid had searched the grounds. They had found nothing and reported the matter to Umbridge in the early hours of the morning. She had berated Snape for some time as Montague's father was a senior Ministry official. Snape swore as he got to bed at half past three in the morning that Mr. Montague would rue the day he decided on a jaunt without permission when Snape got his hands on him. No-one – no-one – should be subjected to the sight of Dolores Umbridge with curlers in her hair, in her (Snape shuddered at the recollection) pink frilly nightdress and cat slippers.

oooOOOooo

He hadn't had a lot of sleep but, at least, from tomorrow, there were only two days until Easter break: he could make up his sleep then. Snape was despatching the flasks of Wolfsbane by owl each day in the meantime. He supposed it gave time for Lupin to be with Black. He tried to tell himself he didn't mind, although he did. He had no business minding it, he knew that. It was only a couple of days after all and he couldn't deny that Lupin's intermittent rebuilding of his friendship with Black made for a more contented husband. He could not deny it, any more than he could deny Lupin himself.

He would meet with Lupin on Friday for the full moon, and forget all his aggravations and annoyances. It couldn't come soon enough. He sighed heavily. Until then, unpleasant duties were still needed as he heard the expected knock at his office door.

' **You're late, Potter,' said Snape coldly, as** Potter **closed the door behind him** self, noting there was no apology **.**

**Snape** removed his usual painful memories and **plac** ed **them carefully in Dumbledore's Pensieve. He dropped the last silvery strand into the stone basin and turned to face Harry.**

' **So,' he said. 'Have you been practising?'** He knew the answer as soon as the boy had come into the room. He was radiating anger, although Merlin knew what had irritated this boy's temper this time.

' **Yes,'** Potter **lied.** _He was so very tiresome. Another wasted evening and another headache._

' **Well, we'll soon find out, won't we?' said Snape smoothly. 'Wand out, Potter.'**

Potter **moved to his usual position, facing Snape with the desk between them.**

' **On the count of three then,' said Snape lazily** , desperately bored with the thin diet of Dementors, horse-faced Petunia and her corpulent husband and son **. 'One – two –'**

**Snape's office door banged open and Draco Malfoy sped in.**

' **Professor Snape, sir – oh – sorry – '**

**Malfoy was looking at Snape and Harry in some surprise.**

' **It's all right, Draco,' said Snape, lowering his wand. 'Potter is here for a little remedial Potions.'** _Of course, if the Malfoy boy had the brains he was born with, he'd question why both Potter and I have wands in our hands without so much as a cauldron between us._ He pursed his lips at the stupidity.

' **I didn't know,'** Malfoy **said, leering at** Potter **.**

' **Well, Draco, what is it?' asked Snape** impatiently **.**

' **It's Professor Umbridge, sir – she needs your help,' said Malfoy. 'They've found Montague, sir, he's turned up jammed inside a toilet on the fourth floor.'**

Snape's attention snapped into focus as Malfoy ran ahead. Snape knew, he just knew, there'd be a certain pair of red-heads at the bottom of this as he gritted his teeth and strode behind Malfoy's skipping run.

oooOOOooo

No doubt, Minerva would write it off as a prank. Merlin help him with Gryffindors and their so-called pranks. Fireworks were one thing; flinging a student headlong into a Vanishing Cabinet was quite another. He could have ended up in Malfoy Manor in the lap of the Dark Lord if that's where the Cabinet's twin had been! Montague was a gibbering wreck and in the hospital wing and probably wouldn't be right for weeks. He strode back to his office, students scattering before him, his foul temper evident on his face as he swept back into his office.

He halted, dumb-struck, at the scarely believable vision before him: James Potter's son's face deep in the Pensieve with the memory of the Black Lake in it. He pushed his immediate and violent fury down as deep into his gut as he could manage. He had to. Or he – would – kill - him. He stepped silently next to Potter and clenched his jaw so tightly, his teeth hurt as he watched what Potter had pried into, although he knew it as if it were acid-etched into his heart.

' **Reading between the lines, I'd say she thinks you're a bit conceited, mate,' said** Black **.**

" **Right,' said** Potter **, who looked furious now, 'right –'**

**There was another flash of light, and Snape was once again hanging upside-down in the air.**

' **Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?'**

Snape's felt his rage burn. One more second and that bastard's whelp would see how his father humiliated him totally, divesting him of his underpants in front of those students. Renewed humiliation set his skin crawling and his **hand closed tight over** the boy's **upper arm, with a pincer-like grip. Wincing,** Potter **looked round to see who had hold of him, and saw Snape standing right beside him, white with rage.**

' **Having fun?'** Snape snarled as he yanked the foul boy backwards, never releasing his grip on **his** **upper arm.**

' **So,' said Snape, gripping** the boy **'s arm** as **tightly** as he could, fighting the almost undeniable urge to strike him **. ' _So ..._ been enjoying yourself, Potter?' ** he seethed.

' **N-no,' said** Potter **, trying to free his arm.**

**Snape** knew he was **shaking** with anger and that **his face** had drained.

' **Amusing man, your father, wasn't he?'** barked **Snape, shaking** the boy **so hard his glasses slipped down his nose** and he hoped he rattled the brat's bones **.**

' **I – didn't – '** Excuses. The boy wanted to babble excuses at him. No! It was too much.

**Snape threw** Potter **from him with all his might** and he **fell hard on the dungeon floor.**

' **You will not tell anybody what you saw!' Snape bellowed** clenching his fists in his robe so the boy would not see **.**

' **No,' said** Potter **,** scrabbling to **get to his feet as far from Snape as he could. 'No, of course I w-'**

' **Get out, get out, I don't want to see you in this office ever again!'** Snape roared, angry with the boy and, watching the boy's fright, furious with himself, neither of which he could contain as he grabbed the first thing that came to hand and threw **a jar of dead cockroaches** at Potter. He had stumbled and it **exploded over his head.** Potter **wrenched the door open and flew** away.

Another two jars swiftly followed as Snape let loose his impotent fury, bracing himself against the desk, he swore loudly as he placed the memories carefully back in his head, feeling the sting afresh as they settled, then he kicked his own chair away, hastily Banished the broken jars, warded his office and stormed into his own quarters where a bottle of Firewhiskey seemed like a very inviting proposition.

Still feeling his skin crawling, he grabbed a glass and filled it generously and tipped it back. Glass after glass followed, his thoughts becoming more maudlin and disjointed, timelines mixing and melding and becoming hopelessly confused with each huge measure.

_When – just when – could he forget about it? Just make it disappear? Why did it haunt him? Why did he constantly have to see his shame? His shame of turning on his friend? He pushed her, and pushed her, and then finally that day, he pushed too far. It didn't matter that he was tormented. She always stuck up for him. Unreasonably so. But he had to fit in. She didn't understand how he had to or it would be worse. If he didn't have his dark curses, if he were not so talented at creating them, if the Dark Lord hadn't expressed an interest in him to Malfoy, there'd be no hope for him at all. When he looked at all the terrible things he'd done, if he could take that one thing back and beg her to be his friend again, he would. If those bastards hadn't shamed him so ... if only ... if only ..._

Drunk now, he heard Lupin calling his name from the mirror in the bedroom.

"Severus? Severus?"

_Give him a piece of m' mind,_ he thought drunkenly. Then, he heard some other voice faintly as he lurched to his feet to go to his bedroom.

"Remus? If Snape isn't there, come back down and have a beer with Kingsley and me. Tonks and David are coming for a farewell drink. Maybe Bill and his French bird too. We could get up a game of Whomping Poker? Come on, Moons!"

"Sod off, Padfoot!" he heard Lupin calling back, good-naturedly. "I'm trying to tell ..."

Snape swayed and drunkenly cast a Silencing Charm on the mirror and went back to his glass. _No Marauders. No more of that tonight._

He'd drunk himself stupid until he'd passed out on the bed and hadn't called Lupin back.

In the morning, hungover and contrite, he cast a charm on the mirror and saw that Lupin had tried to speak to him another four times. Of course, he hadn't heard: he'd placed a Silencing Charm on the mirror. But Lupin would have been able to see him sprawled face down on the bed, fully clothed, wouldn't he? _Merlin, what must he think of me?_

Whatever Lupin thought now, imagine how much worse it would be when Snape told him what he done to Potter: shaken him, thrown him to the floor, thrown a glass jar at him. Snape scrubbed his face with his hands, knowing Lupin would be so ashamed of him. He felt the shame as if Lupin stood before him now. Once he told Lupin, surely he wouldn't want Snape to be a father after all – not the type of father that Snape men tended to be, anyway. He sat on the edge of the bed, and sheepishly called Lupin through the mirror, but Lupin did not answer.

He supposed he should be grateful. It would wait until the evening.

In the evening he tried again, but still there was no answer. Snape's stomach sank with disappointment as he sent off the flasks of Wolfsbane. It wasn't as if he hadn't sulked like that himself before. Lupin was just giving him a taste of his own medicine. Well, it served him right, didn't it? He'd be seeing him tomorrow for the full moon. It would all be all right then.

oooOOOooo

Snape had only had a quick breakfast and was now packing a few things for the Easter break. He would be staying at the flat with Lupin for just over a week before more Lupin resumed his mission with the packs. He believed that there was a small pack in Whitby that was Lupin's next target. He donned his cloak and quickly left his quarters to go the laboratory to collect the men's final doses of Wolfsbane, when a Patronus loped soundlessly towards him.

He thought at first it was Lupin's, but no, it was larger – a large hound: Black.

" _Snape, get your arse here now. David's back without Remus!"_

Back? What did he mean 'back'? Back from where?

Easter holiday packing forgotten, Snape ran from the castle to the Apparition point and Disapparated straight to the front door of number twelve, Grimmauld Place.

He stormed down the long hallway, flicking his wand to close the curtain savagely on Mrs. Black's operatic dissertation on the foulness of the occupants as he passed into the kitchen, where he saw David huddled at the table, battered and shaking with fright, looking at those who surrounded him as they asked, pleaded and shouted at once, all pressing in on him.

"You must have seen who it was?"

"Describe them! Were they werewolves, boy?"

"He's just a boy! How could he have known?"

"And what was Remus in the last war? Who mollycoddled him like this?"

"Leave him alone! How can he possibly know?"

"ENOUGH!" Snape roared. The press of bodies parted and most stared sullenly at Snape. Only Black looked relieved to see him. _Oh, the irony._

"Snape! We can't really get coherent information from him. They've got Remus," Black said plaintively.

"Where have they been and for how long?" Snape snapped. _And why didn't I know?_ The sickening realisation crept into his brain: the number of times Lupin had tried to contact him the night before last but he was too drunk and stubborn to talk to him. His heart sank that Snape had thought Lupin was sulking because he hadn't answered. _When,_ _just bloody when_ , he chastised himself, _had Lupin ever been so juvenile with him?_ Never, and now his own childishness had contributed to the danger Lupin was now in. He kept breathing deeply. He had to keep his wits about him.

David started talking quickly, his eyes darting to each person in the room – except Snape. "We got a message from Zachary, saying he wanted to talk to us again. We went Thursday morning, hoping we could get his assurances. He invited us in this time, had a meal ready for us. Zachary and Remus talked for ages. I started feeling Remus didn't trust him. Kept asking why he'd changed his mind. Zachary wouldn't really answer – just kept saying he'd had time to think about it - and asked a lot of questions about the pack that the others had joined, you know, the one in Wales. That's when Remus really seemed to close down. Then the remainder of the pack jumped us, knocked Remus out and tied us up."

The young man was breathing hard now at his recollection. Molly Summoned him a glass and filled it.

"There, dear," Molly said, patting his arm. David offered her a tremulous smile and then drank greedily.

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. Once we were tied up, Zachary summoned an owl from the woodland and sent a message. Remus was out cold for practically the whole night, and didn't come around until the sun was rising. He told me not to struggle and wait for his signal. I didn't know, but Remus had a spare wand."

"And you didn't?" Snape asked, disbelievingly, trying to ignore the rock of fear that weighed heavily in his gut.

"No, sir," David's head snapped to face the tone of authority. "I'm sorry, sir, I've never had a spare wand."

"Well, you won't make that mistake again, will yer, laddie?" chided Moody.

"No, sir," David said, gulping all the time, now looking terrified.

"This is not achieving anything," Kingsley broke in, his voice deep and commanding. "Carry on, David. What happened then?"

David looked at Kingsley with gratitude. "Every time our guard had his back turned Remus was chanting to charm the wand he had up his sleeve into his hand. He got it eventually and broke the binding charm, and Summoned our wands and we made a break for it. We were chased down by some men I hadn't seen before."

"Why didn't you Disapparate, love?" Tonks asked gently.

"Wards around the settlement, I assume." Snape said.

David nodded. "Old and very strong. We had to run to get to the edge of them to Disapparate. One of the strangers jumped Remus before he could Disapparate."

Just as more talking at cross purposes started, Snape broke through.

"So, neither of you is properly medicated and it's a full moon tonight," Snape said forcefully. The room went silent again, and David's eyes went wide as everyone looked at him. Snape turned to Tonks. "Do you have somewhere safe for David to transform?" Tonks nodded.

Snape took off his cloak and stared at David. "I suggest I get the information from his mind. It will be quickest."

The silence became heavy as some of the Order members looked concerned at one another.

"I don't know if I approve of that, Snape," Moody growled.

"The man doesn't know who he saw. If it was Death Eaters, I will know them, will I not?" Snape said, his body rigid and his teeth gritted. "Time is wasting," he spat. He wouldn't be able to restrain himself much longer.

"What? What is that he wants to do?" David asked, looking wildly at everyone, but Snape.

"D'ye know what _Legilimency_ is, laddie?" Moody asked.

The young man looked even more frightened. "Isn't it Dark magic to break a mind?"

Snape just started to scowl at the boy's ignorance when Black held up a hand to him, not offensively but gently. "It's Mind Magic, yes, but it's not Dark." He approached David carefully as if approaching a skittish creature. "It can be used for Dark purposes but also for Light. Professor Dumbledore is a skilled _Legilimens_ and Mind Healers at St. Mungo's use it. Snape – that is, Severus – can also use it. He can look at the memory if you let him. Identify who took Remus so we can track them." Black swallowed audibly. "Please let him try, David."

Tonks gave Black a reproachful look but then knelt at David's side. "Go on, love. Mad-eye and Kingsley are here. It will be safe."

"Tonks!" Kingsley said sharply, with an apologetic look at Snape.

"She's not wrong. If he doesn't give it to me willingly – I will tear it from him without hesitation," Snape whispered dangerously, his hands gripping the back of David's chair until his knuckles whitened. Time was slipping away while they pandered to this boy. Snape inhaled deeply to calm himself, seeing the shocked and uncomprehending faces around the table. "I ... We need this information so I can assist retrieving our asset." He moved away from the chair back to face David and loomed over him as he raised his wand. "Do not resist me, or it _will_ hurt." A threat, a warning or a promise? It was for the boy to decide. "Look at me."

David tore his eyes from Tonks's now soft, liquid brown ones, raising them to meet Snape's. David's eyes were filled with nothing less than abject terror, but he did not resist.

_Legilimens._

Snape entered as gently as he could, feeling the young, energetic mind in panic but forcing itself to yield. Suddenly, David pushed him into the memory: rolling landscape, nearby woodland, fresh earth, panic, fear, anger, sweat -

" _MOVE IT! GO!" Lupin bellowed at David's shocked face as curses and hexes started flying at them._

_Lupin and David were running at full tilt, stumbling over the rocky and uneven terrain as they ran, sending hexes and spells back to their many pursuers, desperately trying to get away from the wards of the settlement. A jet of red light shot directly at David, who received a hard shove to his breast bone from Lupin, pushing him out of the wards. David stumbled heavily and, as he turned to Disapparate, thinking Lupin was with him, he saw Lupin being brought down in a lunge and his assailant turning him over then back-handing him hard across the face, sending blood spraying from Lupin's mouth._

With a sickening lurch in his stomach and his skin prickling, Snape recognised immediately the savage, leering werewolf that bent over Lupin to beat him.

Greyback.

.


	68. The Prize

"Greyback," Snape whispered, as if the word had been punched out of him, fighting the urge to vomit as he managed to leave David's mind painlessly despite Snape's own distress.

"Shit!" exploded Black. "You walked straight into a trap!" he accused David. The others began to argue and witter as the David apologised convulsively and Tonks's voice rose in his defence.

"How long?" Snape said, his voice dangerous as he fought to restrain his fear and anger.

"Since what?" Tonks asked testily, her hair now red and her eyes a flaming orange in anger at the seeming antipathy towards David.

Snape turned on her. "Since Remus was taken down by Greyback, bloody obviously, Auror Tonks. How long?" he spat.

"Well, David got back to me a couple of hours ago," Tonks replied defensively.

Snape's eyes widened. "Why the delay?" he shouted. _Did you feel the need to kiss it better?_ he thought viciously, but he did not break her cover, such as it was now, the way she was behaving.

Black suddenly stood in front of Snape and grabbed both of his upper arms hard, and walked forwards forcefully so that Snape, completely shocked by the sudden action, had to back out and Black slammed the kitchen door behind them.

"Think, Snape, think!" Black whispered hoarsely. "Your cover."

The sense of what Black said cut through Snape's fug of distress and he halted the imminent hex that had been forming on his lips to blast Black backwards into the kitchen. It had come to this: Black giving him advice to calm him down. Of course, he was right. Snape was just about keeping his temper under control, but seeing Lupin being struck by Greyback, that foul-smelling epitome of everything Lupin hated, that Dark creature that was responsible for the misery Lupin endured – it made his being flame with fury.

"Two hours already in the hands of Greyback, Black. Do you have any idea what could be happening to him?" Snape's voice cracked as freezing fear slowly seeped into his soul, dousing his anger. "And it's the full moon tonight. It isn't even up for question that Greyback will have taken him to the Dark Lord. Death Eaters don't believe in delayed gratification! They'll play with him before the moon's up and then when the moon's up ..." Snape could feel his own magic pulsing, desperate to be utilised – to be free – as his sentence caught in his throat and he stood there breathing erratically, his own terror rising, black eyes locked with slate.

"Snape. Severus. You're scaring me," Black said quietly.

"You should be. You should be scared." Snape exhaled hugely and then breathed deeply another three times to steady himself and then nodded. "Okay, I'm fine. Let me go now. I need to go in to get my cloak. I have to go."

"Not by yourself surely? You'll blow your cover. You haven't done a tremendous job of maintaining it just now. They'll kill you both! The Order – tell Mad-Eye and Kingsley where you think he'll be and they can mount a rescue mission!" Black said desperately.

"It was shock, that's all. We don't have time for all that." Snape stood ramrod straight once more, controlling himself fully now as he waved his hand at the kitchen dismissively. "Black – I am a spy. I know what I am doing. I have ways of getting to Remus that the Order simply doesn't, do you understand? There is no earthly way that the Order can infiltrate Malfoy Manor and we can't risk an all-out assault on the Dark Lord's headquarters – it would fail, I promise you."

Black held fast to Snape's arms as he searched his eyes, and then nodded and released his grip, and stepped back and opened the kitchen door.

"I know he's a vital asset, Snape, but some of us think of him as our friend ..." Black said loudly, improvising as he stalked through the door.

They were assailed with a barrage of questions but Snape took no notice, only vaguely hearing anything through his mounting deep Occlusion, but grabbed his cloak to leave.

Moody elbowed his way to stand in front of Snape, his magical eye swivelling to the bite then to the circlet. "If yer going to do this, Snape, I need to talk to you," he growled and stomped out into the hallway.

Before Snape could follow, Black grabbed his wrist, staring into Snape's eyes, ignoring the commotion behind them.

"You can find him, can't you, Snape? In time?" he said desperately, grey eyes dark with fear.

"Yes, I will."

"Good luck."

At that moment, Snape and Black understood each other perfectly. Just for that moment.

Snape shut the kitchen door and faced Moody.

"I don't think this is wise, Snape. Yer too close." It was the first time Moody had ever made reference to what he knew about their relationship to Snape.

"That may well be true, but _you_ know why there is no time. They will make him fight Greyback as wolves. If I'm not with Remus when the moon rises, he'll be incapacitated. He'll have no chance at all. He'll be torn apart." Snape throat closed with that thought. "There is no choice. It can't wait. I must do this now."

Minutes passed as Moody stared, natural and magical eyes fixed on Snape's. Then he nodded and, turning abruptly, he lurched back to the kitchen.

Snape stepped out of the front door, breathing deeply and summoned Tippy to collect his robes and mask from his trunk at Hogwarts.

oooOOOooo

Snape Apparated just outside the grounds of Malfoy Manor and strode down the lengthy gravel pathway and through the wrought iron gates that admitted him by recognising his Dark Mark. In that time, he Occluded deeply and densely, emptying himself of as much emotion as he was able, knowing Black had spoken truthfully: he had lost his composure very badly indeed. It would have fatal consequences if that happened now. He mustered his plausible cover story for attending unsummoned.

As Snape entered the entrance hall, he saw Greyback was grumbling to other lesser followers of the Dark Lord. Snape was pleased to note large hex welts on his face but he knew Lupin would be worse off. He passed various others, nodding his usual curt greeting. He found the Dark Lord in the Malfoy's dining room in discussion with Malfoy and Yaxley. He stood and waited, out of earshot. Of course, the Dark Lord missed nothing. Like Albus Dumbledore, no person was ever in the Dark Lord's vicinity without his being aware of it. The Dark Lord turned his head in that reptilian fashion that made Snape feel vaguely nauseous.

"Severus!" the Dark Lord greeted, and left Malfoy and Yaxley in mid-sentence, gliding over to stand before Snape. "You have news for me?"

"My Lord," Snape inclined his head in greeting. "I have not had the chance to attend you with this news but there has been much uproar over the past two days. Perhaps Lucius has already told you; I'm sure that those in the know at the Ministry can talk of little else. The old man has been chased away from the school by Umbridge and Fudge."

The Dark Lord's serpentine face registered as much surprise as its stretched skin was able. "This is good news indeed, Severus. Unmask and tell me how this was accomplished."

Snape told the Dark Lord of the discovery of Potter's Defence group by Umbridge and how she, in her obsession with Fudge, had fed Fudge's own obsessive fear of a coup from Dumbledore, leading Fudge to turn up with two Aurors to arrest Dumbledore. He had fled with the phoenix, leaving the wards unguarded and now capable of further compromise and assault.

The Dark Lord smile was disconcertingly huge and unpleasant. "So, it becomes just a matter of time ." He paused, considering Snape's face. "Well done, Severus. This has not been reported to me. I shall have words with Lucius about this."

Snape commended himself on the job well done so far. Now, he needed to make the Dark Lord take him to the dungeons.

"I have also just left an Order meeting," he said, as almost a throwaway line.

"Ah yes?"

"There is further news that my Lord may find of interest. It appears the old man's pet werewolf has fallen foul of a pack of the beasts," Snape smirked unpleasantly. "As if there would be any honour amongst beasts such as those. I thought you would wish to know, my Lord, since he has been such an irritation to your plans." Snape inwardly prayed he had judged his tone right.

"Follow me, Severus. I did indeed know about the old man's pet beast." The Dark Lord sounded well pleased, in a way that chilled Snape's blood.

He followed as the Dark Lord led the way to the dungeons and pointed gracefully with his wand. There in one corner, slumped and manacled to the stone wall, bloody, battered but also twitching and convulsing from the application of the Cruciatus was Remus Lupin. Snape's heart jumped and he stifled a cry. As far as Snape could tell, he was barely conscious. Snape could tell from the occasional shimmer in the air that a shield charm separated Lupin from all else.

He only had a second to martial all his skill to keep his Occlusion intact or the Dark Lord would sense something wrong in Snape's demeanour. It was all to play for. He must dissemble. From the very far reaches of his memory, so discarded he barely remembered he had harboured these thoughts once, he pulled his old thoughts of hatred and revenge for the werewolf to the fore for the Dark Lord to read when he pounced on Snape's mind, as he so surely would.

"Ah, my Lord. I should have known it was done at your command." He made a small bow. _A slow count of one – two - three._ "My Lord?" Snape said, his tone light and enquiring.

The Dark Lord turned swiftly and gracefully to face Snape, the look on his face enquiring.

"The beast - may I take a closer look?"

"By all means, Severus." The Dark Lord lifted the magical barrier with a small flick of his wand. Snape moved slowly and deliberately as if he had all the time in the world, even though he wanted to run to Lupin, scoop him up in his arms and Disapparate with him to safety, he heard the Dark Lord say, "That particular beast is of great interest today." Snape hoped his freezing heart could not be discerned by the Dark Lord. "Do you know why?"

"I know not, my Lord. For my part, you know my reasons for being interested in Remus Lupin."

"Ah yes," the Dark Lord said, his tone philosophical. "One of your childhood tormentors. For my part, as you put it Severus, he has been proving quite a thorn in my side with Greyback's recruitment of the werewolves. The beast has indeed been busy interfering and he's set up some kind of system of working with Idris. I want to find out what it is. I very much want Idris and his pack. Idris has a special talent: one that occurs but once a century. I want it working for me!" the Dark Lord hissed venomously.

"So," Snape asked, his exterior calm, but cold panic washing over him, "you intend to kill this beast once you have the knowledge?"

"He's proved quite resistant to my extracting the information I want from him. It is often the case with beasts. The animal in them protects them. He has no value to me now other than sport, and I have tired of him. But he appears to be of interest to others." The Dark Lord moved away, and Snape stole a look at Lupin and then followed.

"If he is of no further use to you, my Lord, may I claim him as my prize," Snape ventured.

He felt the Dark Lord in his mind on the instant, not savagely this time; but stealthily. Snape freely allowed access to the memories he had selected: that night in the Shrieking Shack when he was a teenager, his artificial boggart, fantasies he'd had of torturing the beast slowly, or even using his hair, sweat and semen for potions and threatening to use his blood and bone for the darkest of potions and rituals. Yes, all of that is what he used to think of Lupin, now his husband. He added his memories of the Shrieking Shack where he had bound Lupin so cruelly and of revealing his secret to the Slytherins and of _The Daily Prophet_ that followed. The Dark Lord saw it all in blisteringly fast sequence and looked satisfied.

"You have been patient Severus. Patience should be rewarded. But tell me, why does Malfoy want the beast?" Snape found he wasn't even shocked that Malfoy desired Lupin. The man really was sexually incontinent.

"I expect to satisfy his usual peccadilloes, my Lord." Snape managed to sound bored by the prospect, but then bowed his head again. "However, I understand that my blood is tainted and he is more entitled than I through his blood purity, if you so choose, but I had hoped I could enjoy my prize unsullied, my Lord, if it pleases you." Snape inclined his head in deference, showing, he judged, just the right amount of hesitation and humility that played to the Dark Lord's ego, but also to the Dark Lord's own distaste for Malfoy's overbearing sense of entitlement and rapacious sexual appetite, rivalled only by Greyback's.

The Dark Lord looked at Snape appraisingly. "You ask me for very little, Severus. Malfoy is a glutton, asking only when I catch him in the act of taking. Nor did he tell me that the old man had been unseated. For that alone, he deserves more than my scorn." Snape allowed himself a jot of satisfaction that Malfoy's promised reckoning for his gloating over Christmas was about to be delivered.

"You have only asked for a prize once before – the pretty, red haired witch, if I recall. Malfoy treats himself freely to males and females alike. He's isn't even discriminating. But a beast ... who would want to defile themselves with a beast?" The Dark Lord sneered, stretching his white scaled skin hideously. "Perhaps we should save him from himself." The Dark Lord chuckled and Snape smiled tightly in obliging appreciation of his master's humour.

"I sent Greyback to trap him, of course. He wasn't allowed to maim Lupin until I have finished with him. I've had to keep him away from Greyback and, of course, Macnair's usual interest in torturing anything that moves. We were going to keep him to fight Greyback when they transformed. Hmm, but if that happens, I doubt there'll be much left for you to have your vengeance. I see no reason to put a beast'srequest before yours." The Dark Lord made a dismissive shooing gesture in Lupin's direction. "Take the beast for your own, Severus, for your potions, or whatever you will. Ensure his collar is secure. He has had no Wolfsbane." The Dark Lord cast an incantation over the collar to bind it to Snape, whose face remained impassive at the news of what he had feared would have awaited Lupin had he not arrived when he had.

Malfoy, followed by Yaxley, now entered the dungeons and joined the Dark Lord and Snape, and gave a curt nod to Snape.

"I have awarded the beast to Severus, Lucius. You are aware this is the werewolf he has wanted for some time. I trust it will not cause you too much of a sense of loss," the Dark Lord sneered.

"As you will, my Lord," Malfoy murmured but his hard eyes flicking to Snape in irritation. The Dark Lord swept away.

"I asked for him first, Severus. I don't appreciate being usurped like this," Malfoy said, his tone clipped in annoyance.

"Yes, you've always had a _particular_ interest in this werewolf," Snape noted softly. "Perhaps you should tell our Lord of your little jape with the headmaster and my old blood parchments two years ago. Perhaps, our Lord would appreciate the joke as much as he appreciated the loss of his diary." Snape tilted his head enquiringly as he watched Malfoy's face become almost transparent as it paled further doubtlessly in remembrance of the severe and bloody punishment he had suffered at the wand of the Dark Lord.

"Lucius." Malfoy's head snapped up to the Dark Lord, who was ascending the stairs. "I believe I have some business with you. Follow me."

Snape watched Malfoy's pale complexion tinge almost green, recognising, as did Snape, the tone implying that _correction_ was due and payable. Snape had no time to feel satisfied.

He turned back to Lupin and approached him so Lupin was obscured from Macnair's view. "Lupin!" he sneered, crossing his arms. Lupin eyes fluttered open to meet Snape's.

_Play along with me. Do you understand, my love? Just pretend._

_I ... yes ..._

Snape felt the weakness of Lupin's mind voice and knew Lupin's could barely think straight; he could see, even with Lupin clothed, the pulsing of the Cruciatus racing under his skin and who knew how badly the Dark Lord had hurt Lupin when he had _Legilimised_ him.

"Get on your feet, you filthy beast!" Snape kicked Lupin's boot although the kick hit more of the ground than Lupin's foot, and then he charmed the manacles undone. Lupin's arms dropped and Snape cast _Mobilicorpus_ to raise him up from the floor so that Lupin hung in the air, Snape hearing for the first time Lupin's laboured breathing.

"Now, I should take the beast now to my cellar before he changes. His cloak and wand?" Snape barked as he held out his hand to Macnair, who looked as if he was also nursing a sense of loss.

"How do you know this beast has a wand?" Macnair challenged.

"I went to school with him, did I not?" Snape drawled impatiently, covering the tug now pulling at his gut. "Now! Before moonrise." Macnair handed over Lupin's cloak and stave with bad grace. Snape hurriedly placed the wand in his cloak and then placed Lupin's cloak around his shoulders roughly, yanking the tie unkindly around his neck and then Snape led him pointing his wand imperiously at the enchanted collar out of the dungeons to the hall, as he heard Malfoy's cries of pain from the study, and then out into the grounds past the gate. As soon as he was beyond Malfoy's wards, he released the mobility charm as he pulled Lupin to him to Disapparate to Spinner's End.

They Apparated through Snape's wards and Snape supported Lupin to the settee, placing him there gently and then he strengthened his wards to none should follow. Then, as he murmured soft words of reassurance to Lupin, he quickly cast to remove the collar, throwing it to one side and healed the raw chafing around Lupin's neck and kissed his fevered forehead. He had no time to heal the rest of Lupin's wounds, but quickly Summoned his Cruciatus Potion and tipped several large measures down Lupin's throat, who drifted in and out of consciousness with rasping breaths only just managing to say Snape's name. He didn't need Lupin's wolf maddened when it became unbound shortly. He threw off his Death Eater robes, throwing his mask on top of them, and then supported Lupin down into the cellar, locking and warding the cellar door, in case he had badly miscalculated the strength of Lupin's Claim upon him.

Once in the cellar, he quickly Vanished his Potions equipment, relocating it upstairs so the cellar was bare. It was just him and Lupin now, and Snape's wildly pounding heart beat and tugging gut. He spelled away Lupin's clothes so they would not be torn any more than they already had been in his fight with Greyback, wincing as he saw the extent of wounds on Lupin's body – not magical wounds, but Greyback's fists, boots, and sharpened teeth and nails. Snape knew exactly how Greyback would be repaid – oh, he knew exactly - he had formulated the plan as he had brought Lupin home.

Quickly, he removed his own shirt and tied back his hair with a Conjured tie so the bite was visible and accessible. He had never spent the full moon with the proper wolf: Lupin had always had Wolfsbane. Snape couldn't deny it to himself: he was completely terrified.

He propped Lupin in a sitting position against the wall and then knelt by his side, feeling the familiar tugging that the moon was rising, watching the semi-conscious man whose breathing was so laboured, and who eyes fluttered with pain in time with each visible coruscation of the torture curse across his body. As Snape stroked Lupin's hair, it seemed to Snape that Lupin was trying to wake fully, but did not have the strength. Perhaps it was just as well. Snape's mouth was dry and his heart beat now so fast and hard it hurt to breathe. He closed his eyes to try to calm himself.

He suddenly felt two large, strong hands grip him harshly and push him to the cold stone floor: Lupin, just conscious, his eyes oddly glazed and the tremors of the Cruciatus still chasing across his body. Snape's own hands grasped at Lupin's wrists, uncomprehending, and struggled vainly in his fear as Lupin pinned him to the floor.

"Take them off and turn over," Lupin growled. "Now! While there is time."

Snape's hands began to tremble with adrenaline as he struggled out of his trousers, not excited at all, but quite afraid – it was so very near the moon. With no preparation at all, Lupin pushed himself into Snape, who felt nothing but burning pain as Snape's own fear tightened him further. He hissed in pain and clenched his fists hard, sure his nails broke his skin. Lupin embedded himself roughly, his fingers digging deeply into Snape's shoulders to hold in him place, and Snape heard Lupin's breathing was raw. He was near to turning. Snape's panic rose. Lupin found the bite on Snape's neck and bit down on it very hard, and Snape suddenly found his body release from the mind-numbing fear and relax to welcome the painful intrusion. He became hard on that instant and with the next two brutal thrusts, Lupin bit and sucked again, Snape came hard, followed by Lupin who cried out in an odd noise presaging the change. Lupin rolled off and crawled away and curled in on himself with a whimper.

Lupin's breathing changed to shallow panting and, even barely conscious, he began to keen as he changed. Snape, himself breathless and shaking from shock, crawled shakily over to him and held him, as they had always done, wondering what would happen when the wolf awoke in human arms.

The change happened much faster. Snape wondered wildly in his adrenaline-fuelled hyper-awareness if Lupin's semi-conscious state or the lack of Wolfsbane meant the process was unimpeded. The change was quick and, from what he could see, fluid.

The animal (for animal it certainly was) growled low in its throat. Slowly as slowly could be, Snape lowered his arms and his head, keeping his eyes on the floor as he moved carefully away from the wolf and equally slowly lay on the floor so his neck was exposed. The deep, resonant rumble in the creature's throat increased, becoming a snarl. Snape could feel the sound reverberate right through this body to his core. Snape's heart beat so wildly now, he thought it would shatter his rib cage. Snape could not look. He should not look – he knew he mustn't meet the wolf's eyes. If he could have whimpered his submission, he would have but he was beyond terror now. The wolf was snarling at him and Snape was sure the Cruciatus potion hadn't had time to take. The wolf would have the pain of the Cruciatus and Snape was trapped in a warded cellar with a wolf in pain.

Had he had a choice? Could he have stayed outside? No. He knew that now. He was mated to Lupin and prayed harder to all the earth's magic that Lupin's wolf would recognise him through the pain.

The snarling was louder and Snape heard it increase and his eyes snapped open just in time to see a viciously swift movement as the wolf's enormous paw swiped at his midriff and the wolf's claws tore stripes across his stomach as it sent him flying. Snape yelled in pain and curled up as the pain radiated from the gouges and in that instant the wolf dived at him. Snape's primeval fear overwhelmed him finally and he tried to scuttle away, holding his arms across his wounds, but the wolf pinned him, slavering on him, tasting his fear in the air.

Then Snape knew something had finally cut through the animal's haze of pain. As it had slavered on Snape's neck growling to hold its prey in a grasp of fear and submission, it caught his scent – their scent. The scenting of taste softened to one of enquiry, sniffing mightily to take the scent in through its mouth as well as nostrils. The wolf then nuzzled its snout over Snape's backside. Snape flinched with increased fear. _Merlin and Nimue, no, please!_ Snape prayed to any force that might take pity on him _._ The wolf spent a long time taking in the scent of their recent sex and Snape then understood why Lupin had forced both himself and Snape to that brutal and swift rut – to mark Snape for the wolf. The wolf then went back to the renewed Claiming bite, and a small whining started at the back of the wolf's throat and the animal started licking the bite.

_And so this is Moony,_ Snape thought madly, his own pain overtaking his fear now. Snape started to feel an insane urge to laugh as the animal's snout pushed at his neck, but the pain from the deep gouges to his rib cage was too great. _I'm an inch away from disembowelment and Moony wants to play. Merlin help me,_ he thought as he inch by inch lost awareness and passed out.

oooOOOooo

He awoke. It was daylight. He was not dead. He was startled by his survival. Groggily, he looked around. He was in their bed, under crisp clean sheets and he felt appalling. Then he remembered what had happened and, gingerly, he picked up the bed covers with both hands to look at his midriff.

Four huge deep raked scars cut across his ribs. They were silver as if they were years old. Lupin – no, Moony – must have healed them – well, as well as cursed scars could ever be healed.

"I'm so sorry, Severus," Lupin said gently, standing at the doorway. He was ghostly pale, his body not as badly bruised or cut as yesterday, but he still looked battered. Interestingly, he seemed to have no after-effects of being _Legilimised_ by the Dark Lord and all traces of the Cruciatus were gone. Snape could only assume, as he watched Lupin levitate a tray in with porridge and tea and placed it on the bedside cabinet, that these had been healed by the reversion. He made a mental note for his research.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Snape said with effort. "It should be me looking after you today," he said crossly as Lupin sat on the side of the bed and stroked his face as he passed him a large glass of water. Lupin shushed him like a child and kissed his lips lightly.

"Did the wolf heal me?"

"He must have done. When I came round, your wounds looked like this, but there was blood everywhere. I managed to find your Blood Replenishing Potion though and tipped that down your throat!" Lupin smiled a small sad smile. "And your internal injury potion." His eyes filled. "I'm so sorry I did that to you – took you like that. I had to ..."

Snape grasped Lupin's hands. "I understood," he said quickly. "You had to mark me for the wolf. I understood." Then a recollection crossed Snape's mind.

"The wolf didn't ... you know. Would it have ...?" He found he didn't want to articulate the thought in case it made it a reality.

"What? What are you ... oh." Lupin's eyes went wide and then he grimaced on understanding Snape's concern. "God, I hope not."

"You wouldn't know?" Snape asked, his throat dry.

"I remember nothing when I transform without Wolfsbane, Severus, I'm sorry." Lupin winced.

"Perhaps, it's just as well we don't know," Snape said, his hand stroking Lupin's still bruised face.

After they'd eaten breakfast, they had fallen asleep again, until Snape awoke with a start.

"Remus?" Snape said sharply.

Lupin made a soft, acknowledging noise as he nuzzled Snape's hair.

"We need to tell Albus you're okay."

"I sent my Patronus this morning," Lupin said lazily, pulling Snape to him gently. "Got a response with one of Fawkes's feathers," he mumbled.

"Don't you think you should tell me?" Snape chided, trying to turn to look at Lupin, who remained happily snuggled in the crook of Snape's neck and shoulder.

Lupin sighed dramatically and grabbed his wand: " _Accio_ Dumbledore's letter!" he said. "It could've have waited, you know."

Snape carefully sat up as a tiny whooshing sound brought with it a parchment letter. Lupin cast a charm to make it legible.

_This has been very irresponsible of you, Severus. You realise you could have failed and been taken ill in front of the Death Eaters? If Greyback had seen that as he transformed, he would have told them what that meant. You would have been killed. And I cannot bring myself to contemplate the manner in which Voldemort would have exacted his vengeance on both of you for your blood treachery, Severus. You must never be so unthinking again. For both your sakes._

_Why didn't you contact me yourself? Are you hurt?_

_Albus._

"At least it's not a Howler," Lupin said.

"It didn't need to be, did it?" Snape said quietly, his neck and cheeks flushing with shame. Everything Dumbledore had said was right, and the tone! He'd never received such a harsh letter from Dumbledore. In the cold light of day, Snape could have brought about their downfall. He had been so wrapped up in saving Lupin, he had not actually stopped to look at it dispassionately. For the first time he realised, he wasn't capable of being dispassionate as far as Lupin was concerned. A worm of worry was working in his gut.

oooOOOooo

Sitting up in bed, Snape had told Lupin exactly what had happened at Malfoy Manor as he applied salves to the remaining bruises and cuts that the transformation and reversion had not healed as Lupin straddled his thighs. There were still many and he treated each and every one with reverence.

"So you are my knight in shining armour, Severus. My black knight, of course, as you want my body parts, and not in a good way," Lupin said, smiling as Snape smoothed the salve into a large bruise on Lupin's thigh.

"Knight in shining armour! What nonsense," Snape snorted with one eyebrow raised. "It's not as if I stormed the manor on my trusty steed and my large sword with a ridiculous name – oh I don't know – let's call it Godric ..."

"The horse or the sword?" Lupin quipped.

"Does it matter? Either would be ridiculous and something a hopeless Gryffindor would do," Snape griped. "I'm a Slytherin. I still achieve what I want, but indirectly. You're safe with me for now." Then he sighed. "But sooner or later we'll have to plan how you escape from my dastardly clutches."

"If I escape," Lupin said, holding Snape's hands still, "you'll be punished."

Snape looked up into Lupin's blue eyes. "Probably. We will try to plan it so my punishment won't be too severe." Snape's eyes darted away. He couldn't see how he would get away without being _corrected_ but, as much as he would like to keep Lupin here, lie to the world that he'd died so the Dark Lord wouldn't look for him, Lupin would never accept that. He expected to do his share of work for the Order so somehow, they would have to find a way of freeing him.

Snape carefully put the Salve on the bedside cabinet and pulled Lupin down to kiss him, as gently as he could as his hands held Lupin's thighs and gently squeezed them.

Lupin returned the kiss, and their lips parted as their tongues met and curled around each. "Do you want me, Severus?" Lupin murmured. "Are you well enough?" Lupin had taken the weight of his body on his elbows, but Snape could feel Lupin's cock hard against his own. Snape raised his hands to hold Lupin's head firmly as he kissed him deeply and passionately. But of course he did and what did being well enough matter? He could have lost him and the thought cut through him. He had to have him. He must.

"Yes, yes, Remus," he said softly, lowering his hands to stroke down Lupin's back slowly with his fingernails so Lupin gasped and cupped his backside, gently squeezing it, and then very slowly he traced his fingers between the cheeks and stroked the soft skin so Lupin gasped harder as the kiss continued. Snape stroked as Lupin gently moved his hips against Snape's so their cocks rubbed together, and their kissing became a little erratic at the feel of the friction, energising Snape, igniting him. The first of Snape's fingers traced Lupin's opening and slipped in, making Lupin moan deliciously, arching up away from the kiss and closing his eyes against the feel. Snape inserted a second, watching Lupin's face now, feeling the heat accumulating fast at Lupin's unfocused expression. Merlin, he wanted him so badly.

As he worked the two fingers, Lupin pushed himself up and raised himself so that Snape moved his hand around to the front and found his opening again, now finding Lupin's prostate so Lupin's head rolled back with a loud groan, tightening around Snape's fingers, Lupin's own fingers digging into Snape's hips.

Snape's mouth dried out completely as he watched Lupin's moving himself onto Snape's fingers, his own cock desperately hard wanting to be inside the man writhing and groaning above him. _My Remus,_ he thought as he watched him, his own desire filling his whole body and densely fogging his mind. "My Remus," he murmured, making Lupin's face drop down to look at him with heavy lidded, dusky eyes.

Snape gently removed his fingers and guided his painfully hard cock under Lupin, never taking his eyes from Lupin's flushed face and beautifully glazed eyes.

"Remus," he murmured, "my love." Lupin blinked so slowly and then, just as slowly pushed himself, groaning, onto Snape's cock, stopping every so often to adjust as a low moan escaped from Snape's throat at Lupin's hot tightness. The sheer burning heat drawing down his cock made him moan even louder, unable now to tear his eyes from Lupin's as he ground down on his cock so beautifully, whispering Snape's name, as Snape took Lupin's erection in his hand.

_I nearly lost him!_ he suddenly thought. _Remus could have died._ He felt his stomach lurch. His unfocused mind rebelled at the thought of ever being without this feeling, physical and emotional, this love. He grasped Lupin's hips harder and pulled himself up, kissed him fiercely, and then pushed Lupin back onto the bed, drawing himself over Lupin's body until they were face to face.

He embedded himself into Lupin once more as Lupin gave a small cry into Snape's mouth and Snape snaked his arms under Lupin's shoulders and held them, holding him as close as he could as he murmured his name, never breaking eye contact as he began to roll his hips into his beloved slowly – oh so slowly - as Lupin locked his legs around Snape's waist.

Snape knew his ribs would hurt later. He felt an insistent nag in his side as he gently curled his pelvis to move into Lupin as deeply as he could. "My Remus," he kept chanting, holding him close. This wasn't just desire, or even love. It was everything – everything to Snape. He was totally enveloped in this mixture of fear, desire and love and he didn't want to ever let go. Their glazed gazes fixed, Lupin seeming to understand.

They paced themselves very slowly and deeply, speaking each other's name like a prayer and kissing, holding themselves back from anything too rough or too fast, but gasping at the pleasure of each deep thrust, becoming louder moans as they built the insistent rhythm between them, beginning to cry out as the heat built hotter and hotter, until Lupin cried loudly as he came fiercely against Snape's stomach, digging his fingers into Snape's clenched backside, as his own muscles clamped hard against Snape's cock pushing Snape over the edge, crying out Lupin's name, still holding him so tightly, orgasm pulsing hard out of him, as he tried to kiss Lupin once more though his lungs burned for breath.

"My Remus," he gasped, once more.

oooOOOooo

It was evening now, and still they lay together in bed, Snape holding Lupin close to his chest.

They heard someone calling Lupin through the Floo.

Snape went to jump up, and hissed in pain. Lupin pressed him down again as he got out of bed instead.

"Whoever it is, they can't get in unless I take down my wards," Snape whispered. "But be careful. It may be someone under Polyjuice or a Glamour. Remember, Pettigrew may have told them things from your school days to trap you. This may be a test."

Lupin nodded and grabbed his wand and silently crept down the stairs and waited for the person to speak again.

"Remus! Hoi Moony! I know you're there. Dumbledore told me. It's me," Black continued to shout. "Padfoot. Oh bugger – any of this Peter could have told Voldemort's lot, couldn't he? Okay, I'll think of something else. Last week, we played Whomping Poker with Kingsley and you beat us with a full house three times. Kingsley said you'd marked the pack with your scent glands, and you threatened to scent-mark him yourself."

"Hello, Pads." Snape heard Lupin say. Snape rolled his eyes at the thought that the conversation was a true account. He'd thought better than that of Kingsley Shacklebolt. That must have been the night Lupin had tried to call him but Snape was drunk. That was going to be an awkward conversation. He decided it didn't need to be brought up just yet, but he did need to speak to Dumbledore about the wards. He wondered when they were going to see him.

"Severus!" Lupin call broke Snape's reverie. "Albus said if you're not up and reporting to him soon, he's going to send Sirius through the Floo to look after us! But I said you're not to get up yet."

Snape's eyes became wide and he threw himself out of bed, landing awkwardly on the floor.

"I'm up!" he yelled down the stairs.

"Well, you shouldn't be!" Lupin yelled back.

"I don't want Black in this house!"

"Thanks a bunch, Snape!" he heard Black's amused voice call from the fireplace.

"Don't bloody mention it," Snape groused, staggering down the stairs in his bathrobe, holding his ribs with one arm, and as soon as he sat down, rubbing the knee he'd knocked as he'd thrown himself out of the bed.

"Snape!" Black said jovially. "You've got legs! I haven't seen those since ..."

Snape's eyes widened and flashed with anger, as Lupin cottoned on to what Black was about to say. "Right then, Sirius," he said, far too loudly. "So, you've seen us. We're both well." Lupin moved so Snape could not see Black's face. "Tell Dumbledore we're fine. Don't tell the others."

"But they'll worry," Black said. Snape could not see his face for his reaction to Lupin's protective manoeuvres.

"They'll just have to worry. Until we've worked out a way for me to escape that won't mean Severus gets his hide flayed, Severus and I are missing in action. Understood? Now where's Albus?" Lupin demanded.

oooOOOooo

Snape and Lupin had just had a very relaxing bath; the first for pure relaxation since Snape had brought Lupin home and Snape was just manoeuvring Lupin back to bed with kisses when they heard a fire call and Malfoy's voice calling for Snape.

"It's like Piccadilly Circus since you've been here," Snape grumbled as he grabbed a black robe and Lupin smoothed it down and buttoned it quickly by magic and Snape pulled on his boots and ran silently downstairs.

"Severus!" Lupin whispered loudly. Snape looked up and Lupin threw down a comb as Snape threw the slave collar up the stairs to Lupin. Snape combed his hair and then breathed deeply and pulled himself into his rigid stance, as he walked through the door that hid the staircase.

"Lucius," he said, his tone cold. "What do you want?"

"Severus, dear boy," Lucius smiled. "May I come through?"

Snape sighed dramatically, as if the very idea of company was too abhorrent to bear. "If you really must." Snape altered his wards and Malfoy stepped through with consummate grace, well tended hands lightly brushing the Floo powder off his handsomely brocaded robe.

"Good day, Severus," Malfoy said, as his silver eyes wandered around the small sitting room, his upper lip curling with barely disguised disgust. "The Dark Lord sent me to enquire after the beast."

"Really?" Snape asked brusquely, doubting this very much. Still, if anything was off here, Malfoy would rush to report it. Snape snorted with impatience.

"Lupin!" he shouted up the stairs.

Lupin, wearing the slave collar, an old pair of trousers and a tatty shirt, came running down the stairs, with an odd, cringing attitude.

"Yes, Master Snape," he said, bowing.

_Master? Really?_ Snape thought to Lupin, somewhat unbalanced by it.

_You've Imperiused me,_ Lupin explained in a flash of thought, _to be Loopy the house wolf._

Snape felt his jaw almost drop and he tightened it in an exercise of iron will not to laugh out loud. Lupin was trying to kill him, he decided.

"Some elf-made wine? Or would you prefer some tea?" Snape asked carelessly.

"Some wine," Malfoy replied, his eyes curiously alight as he watched Lupin bow and move sinuously to the kitchen, returning with a tray with glasses and a bottle of good wine. Lupin served the wine and stood at the kitchen door as Malfoy made conversation that did little more than pass the time of day in what was clearly an excuse to pry into the Snape household.

Snape grunted and nodded in the appropriate places in the one-sided conversation, as he watched Lupin dance attendance on the odious man as Loopy the house-wolf, and Snape thought he might rupture his stomach looking at the ridiculously obsequious expression Lupin was wearing (which Snape was sure he never seen disgrace the face of Tippy when she spoke to him). Worse still, because Malfoy expected to be attended in this manner, he accepted every bit of it as if it were normal and his right.

"And have you - ah - sampled your creature at all?" Malfoy raised his primped eyebrows in enquiry.

_Ah, the real reason for his visit_ , Snape thought catching Lupin's eyes as Malfoy stared unguardedly at Lupin's body.

"You have a one-track mind, Lucius," Snape sneered. _Really, the man was deplorable. 'Sampled' for Merlin's sake_.

Malfoy chuckled. "I don't deny that I am fascinated by this creature. It is a good looking beast, is it not? I see you have it well trained." Malfoy's silver eyes followed the lines of Lupin's body as he served the wine. Snape was completely convinced that Lupin had swayed his hips at one point. As Malfoy lifted his glass and as Lupin turned to leave, Malfoy stretched out at hand to cup Lupin's backside. Snape sent a fast stinging hex to the outstretched hand.

"Tsk, tsk, Lucius," Snape reprimanded. "One mustn't touch what isn't yours. I've told you this before." Malfoy glared then with a small shake of his head, his false smile returned and he sipped his wine.

"I think, if I were you, I would have to sample it. It looks delicious." Malfoy looked at Lupin, who was standing by the kitchen door awaiting orders with a suitably blank, _Imperiused_ expression. Malfoy's look was predatory. Another time and another place, Snape was sure Lupin would repay the insult.

"I didn't request the beast for sex, Malfoy," Snape said, with a practised expression like granite. "I want him to serve me, to humiliate him, to use his blood and bones for potions. He's a beast: what use is he to me for sex?"

"Shame. Such a waste," Malfoy sighed. "I would imagine," Malfoy said confidentially, "you both together would make something of a treat." His smile crimped as his gaze wandered lazily from Lupin's body to Snape's.

"I think," said Snape, standing quickly, knowing this was a conversation Lupin would not find funny. Funny didn't appear to attach itself to other men finding Snape sexually attractive, especially Malfoy, and Snape could not afford their cover to slip. "If there's nothing else, I'll chivvy you along. You've seen the beast. Now, I have a number of potions on the go and I need to tend them," Snape said very definitely.

"Yes, must be off. Regrettably, no time off at the Ministry for the Easter hols." Malfoy stood, walked the few steps to the fireplace and cast another appalled look about himself and with a nod and "Snape," he Flooed away.

Snape re-warded the Floo and exhaled deeply.

"I'm sorry," he said to Lupin's seemingly cross face. Then it broke into a wide smile.

"Good grief, Severus! The man is completely appalling. He really is obsessed with sex, isn't he?" Lupin laughed as he took the glasses into the kitchen.

"And what was that house-elf nonsense, Remus. You nearly caused me an injury trying not to laugh."

"I couldn't resist, Severus. He's such a pompous idiot. I thought I'd play up to it. You know," Lupin called from the kitchen. "I should have Transfigured some clothes into a house-elf tunic, if I'd thought of it."

Snape snorted. "Malfoy's elves don't have anything so decent to wear. They have old tea towels and pillow cases." There was a silence that Snape found suspicious.

"If you come in here wearing a tea towel, Remus, I cannot be responsible for my actions."

"Is that a promise?" Lupin leant against the kitchen door holding a clean tea towel over his otherwise naked body.

"It was not a suggestion," Snape snorted. "However ..." he moved over to Lupin and took the material gently between his long fingers, then whipped the tea towel away as Lupin hummed deeply in his throat as Snape cupped Lupin's balls gently and kissed him deeply. Lupin pushed Snape back on his chair, and straddled his lap.

"Loopy lives to serve his noble master Snape," Lupin growled, in a fair approximation of the toad-like tones of Black's house-elf.

The joke took Snape's breath away and he laughed loudly, but then stopped with a look of distress.

"Severus, what's the matter?" Lupin asked with genuine concern. "Is it your wounds?"

"A vision of Kreacher just popped into my head in place of you. It won't go away! Merlin help me – Obliviate me!" Snape thought he had never laughed as hard as he did then, so hard that his sides hurt, not to mention his newest scars and the more he tried to stop the more helpless he became and nor had he ever seen Lupin so handsome as he laughed along with him until there were tears in his eyes.

oooOOOooo

Snape stood in the kitchen doorway, watching Lupin preparing ingredients for dinner.

"We need to make some memories because the Dark Lord will expect to rifle my memories and find something of you. All the things I said I wanted from you for potions. He will expect it to be done violently."

"I still can't believe you used to want to chop me up for potions, Severus. Bones and blood of the werewolf!" Lupin shook his head, but then smiled when he saw Snape colour rather violently. "I can act," Lupin smiled. "Ow! Eek! Unhand me, you bounder!" he declared in an overly histrionic voice, posing in a dramatic stance with a stubby vegetable knife.

"So I'll cast _Crucio_ with my bonded wand which will mis-fire and you'll say 'eek'." Snape rolled his eyes but smiled warmly at Lupin's daftness. "Just the thing to fool the Dark Lord, Remus!" Then he pursed his lips. "I feel I'll be summoned soon and be expected to account for what I've done with you, not to mention we have to plan how you escape from me."

"The escape can wait for now, Severus," Lupin said, a certain hardness in his voice that reiterated what Lupin had already told Snape - he wanted more time for both of them to heal. Then Snape saw Lupin's spine relax slightly as he starting chopping vegetables at the kitchen countertop for their dinner. "You have the recollections of the Shrieking Shack already – you could modify some of those, and how you hurt my mind," Lupin suggested. "What about the Cruciatus by the statue of the one-eyed witch? That's a good one to use."

"Remus, don't," Snape said, his voice small and his flesh crawling. These were things he didn't want to remember, he was so shamed by them, although Lupin seemed to throw them out for consideration as if they were meaningless. Lupin stopped chopping at the sound of Snape's voice and went to him and placed a loving hand on his hip, as the other hand traced down his face.

"But Severus, it's our history. Use these memories to help yourself. We can make some others – appropriate for a Death Eater and a slave beast." And with that, he picked up the slave collar from the tabletop nearby and he winked at Snape.

"You need to collect semen and sweat, I believe." He leant on the door frame, smiling crookedly, and twirled the collar on one finger. "Might be fun ..."

* * *


	69. Perception and Deception

Remus Lupin was on his knees in the cellar. He shifted uncomfortably. The slave collar shone and pulsed, its innate charms now activated keeping the wearer in place and silent. He wore only his shirt and his arms were bound behind his back. His head was bent forward, his hair hanging in his eyes, a film of sweat covered the visible skin on his thighs from a Glamour. Snape stood before him in his Death Eater robes, unyielding and sneering, as he spoke the incantation. Lupin's face broke into a silent yelp as an ejaculation was torn from him by the spell and his ejaculate directed to the phial in Snape's hand. Lupin collapsed on himself, panting as Snape stoppered the phial and carefully affixed a label, "Lycanthrope Semen" as he placed his booted foot seemingly on Lupin's back and pressed down.

"It's not enough for the Restorative Potion. Kneel and we'll go again," Snape sneered.

Lupin lifted his face to Snape's, mouthing a silent plea for mercy.

"I said, sit up, you foul beast!" Snape hissed malevolently. The collar pulsed and Lupin pulled himself quickly into the kneeling position before Snape whose lip curled unpleasantly once more as he raised his wand and he picked up another phial ...

That would do. Snape undid Lupin bonds carefully and helped him onto his feet.

"That was remarkably unpleasant," Lupin said, trying but not quite managing to smile. "It stings. A lot." Snape apologised as he helped Lupin into his trousers, but Lupin chuckled slightly as he gave Snape a slight nudge. "I've seen the spell now, Severus," Lupin said as he manoeuvred his wrists and arms to get feeling back into them. Snape rolled his eyes as he massaged Lupin's shoulders. Lupin laughed. "I don't think he's doing it as a favour to Bellatrix, you know. There was no fun in that at all."

As they walked up the cellar stairs,  
Lupin leaning on Snape, his knees clearly still weak, he said, "You know, Severus, that would be a hell of a thing to do to an enemy in a duel."

"What ..?" Snape stopped on the stair, and stared at Lupin, appalled.

"Just saying." Lupin gave a small shrug. "Imagine their surprise."

"You astonish me, Remus, you really do. Come on; let's get you in the bath."

Lupin tried to smother his smile, but didn't succeed. Then he sniggered, "Imagine using it on Voldemort himself."

oooOOOooo

They sat in bed, freshly bathed. Whilst Snape knew that he was an accomplished liar and an Occlumens second to none, his husband, he discovered, had a flair for deception all of his own. Snape sat with his eyes closed. Lupin sat next to him, concentrating, his voice measured, low and hypnotic, watching Snape's reactions intently.

"Push all emotions of sorrow and regret from you. No, you must do it." Lupin said softly. "Now: recall the memory of how it looked when the Cruciatus struck me by the statue of the one-eyed witch. Do you have it in your mind's eye?"

"Yes," Snape said quietly. The recollection sickened him.

"Push that emotion away." Snape's eyes snapped open to look at Lupin. How could he read him so easily? "Close your eyes, Severus." Snape closed his eyes again and pushed, thinking of the darkness behind his eyes. "Focus only on me, my body, what it's doing, my pleas, my screams, the convulsions. Do you have it?"

"Yes."

"Change the clothes to the trousers I have here. Can you visualise them?"

"Yes."

"Bring it to the fore. Blur the corridor and the statue and push them away. Do you have it?

"Yes."

"Now visualise my body under the Cruciatus exactly in that way in your cellar. Picture the potions equipment, the phials, flasks, jars, the benches, the cauldrons. Can you do it?"

"Yes."

"Can you hear me screaming? Am I begging?" Lupin's voice was modulated and calm. Snape couldn't understand how that could be. If he could see what Snape was seeing, Lupin wouldn't be calm, Snape was sure.

"Yes. Please stop it," Snape whispered.

"No!" Lupin's voice was insistent, but kind. "Entrench it, Severus. Our lives depend upon it."

Snape blew out a harsh breath and then continued to think on the memory.

"Now: you are in your Death Eater robes just like you were today. Do you have it?"

Snape nodded.

"Imagine the pleasure Voldemort would take applying the torture curse to me."

"No!" Snape whispered, his voice no more than a breath of air.

"Imagine you take the same pleasure. You are eighteen years old. You have not yet asked Albus for guidance. You are a Death Eater. Your allegiance is pure. I am at your mercy. The beast, the werewolf of your nightmares. Imagine how you would have felt to have had me in your power then."

Snape's stared at Lupin now, his eyes bright with tears. He knew Lupin wanted to galvanise him to give him the attitude for the memory but to hear what he had been from his beloved's mouth was torture to him.

Lupin's hand cradled the side of Snape's face. "It is a testament to your character that you are not that man any more. But call up his ghost for this memory, Severus. Put the ghost to work for us."

Snape gave a small nod, and closed his eyes, feeling dampness in his eyelashes. He wouldn't have reacted like the Dark Lord, whose face would either light up with fiendish delight if torturing a Muggle or blood traitor prisoner, or with fierce disgust if correcting his acolytes. No. If he had been eighteen years old and had had Lupin in his power, his reaction would have been one of anger and triumph. He would have reanimated his fear and then applied the curse to hear Lupin beg for his life, and then revelled in his power and triumph over the beast. He knew it as truth and he disgusted himself.

"Do you have it?" Lupin asked gently.

Snape nodded. He could see himself perfectly, casting his curse at the beast who he had thought had tried to kill him. It was written all over his face – because you had to mean it. Intention in casting was everything: the greater the hatred, the more excruciating the torture. Eighteen year old Severus leered and turned his wand savagely, his whole body pushing itself to the curse as his eyes flashed with this triumph over his enemy, twisting, writhing, Levitating and screaming before him.

"Do you have it?" Lupin asked quietly, taking Snape's hands in his.

"I have it now." Snape's head was bowed in shame.

oooOOOooo

Lupin had applied a Glamour to himself so he was dripping with sweat, and then cast a convulsion hex and shakily got onto all fours, sweat dripping from his nose. Lupin stretched out blindly and grabbed the rack of phials as planned as Snape stood brushing down his robe and pointed his wand in the end movement of the Cruciatus.

"Fill the phials, beast!" Snape ordered, his voice strong and poisonous.

Lupin collected his sweat in the phials, and Snape labelled them neatly.

oooOOOooo

"So, what do we have?" Lupin said as he set out their breakfast after the morning's memory-forging in the cellar.

"The memory now is: I have tortured you in the cellar, you fall onto your hands and knees when I release you, sweating with it, and I make you collect your own sweat," Snape advised.

"Nice." Lupin nodded. "Toast?"

oooOOOooo

Dumbledore sat in the armchair, and Lupin and Snape sat at the dining chairs by the table. Lupin served them all tea.

"I say you're wrong, Albus. I don't think Severus could have done it any differently and have saved my life. It was almost moonrise and Greyback was practically salivating to fight me. I'd have been dead within minutes, even if Moody had managed to mount an attack."

"Which he wouldn't have," Snape interrupted. "The Dark Lord has strengthened Malfoy's wards with the Darkest of curses. It would take hours for the Order to break all the wards, especially as there's only one Curse-Breaker amongst them. There would have been an all-out battle and we'd have lost too many in the Order."

Dumbledore held up his hand for silence. Both men obliged.

"It's done now, and I won't insult either of your very strongly-held views by disagreeing with you. The question is: what happens now? Humm?"

"I have been putting together a plan for Remus's escape and I need your help with a memory," Snape said. _And a little plan for revenge on Greyback for good measure._

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows and looked over his glasses at Snape, and his eyes began to twinkle.

Snape sighed.

oooOOOooo

" _You are hardly trying, Severus. Where have you searched? Who have you asked? I expect a full report at the weekend. Do I have to question where your true loyalties lie after protecting you all these years?"_

The Dark Lord's eyes narrowed at Snape, who knelt before him in answer to his summons.

"And where was the beast during this meeting?" the Dark Lord said softly, his wand turning dangerously in his hand.

"Bound and silenced in my cellar, my Lord," Snape replied. "The old man tried to pry surreptitiously to see if I had seen the beast, but I felt him and blocked him. He is angry that I have not been more proactive in finding him, as if I should care what happened to such an animal. It may be appropriate to tell them the beast died at the full moon so I can continue with my researches with the beast without their expectations. But only if it pleases my Lord." Snape bowed his head.

"His own self-defeating decency prevented him from opening your mind too deeply, no doubt. Weak, old fool. I will need to consider what is to be done," the Dark Lord ruminated. He then tilted his head and regarded Snape with interest.

"Lucius tells me you use the beast as a house servant under the _Imperius_?" the Dark Lord said lightly.

"For the time being, yes. It humiliates him to serve me and it amuses me. I have taken certain – ah – elements from him for potions, but the new moon is the most auspicious time for harvesting his blood, bone and organs for potions when the beast is at his healthiest."

"Of course, of course," the Dark Lord nodded in agreement, to Snape's Occuded amusement. It was complete rubbish, of course. If Barty Crouch had still been alive, he would have known that it made no difference when blood, bone and organs were harvested. Luckily, he was not and Snape was free to peddle such hocus pocus, if he wished. "What have you taken from him so far?" the Dark Lord enquired.

"Only sweat, semen and hair so far," Snape recounted, with a bored tone.

The Dark Lord was in his mind instantly. Not brutally, but none too carefully either.

_Remus Lupin was on his knees in the cellar. The slave collar shone and pulsed, its innate charms now activated keeping the wearer in place and silent, no matter what indignities or pain were visited upon its captive. He wore only his shirt and his arms were bound behind his back. His head was bent forward, his hair hanging in his eyes, as Severus Snape snatched a handful of hair from him leaving a small bald patch. A film of sweat covered the visible skin on his thighs. Then Snape stood before him in his Death Eater robes, unyielding and sneering at his prize, as he spoke the incantation. Lupin's face broke into a silent yelp as an ejaculation was torn from him by the spell and his ejaculate directed to the phial in Snape's hand. Lupin collapsed on himself, panting as Snape stoppered the phial and carefully affixed a label, "Lycanthrope Semen" as he placed his booted foot on Lupin's back and pressed down harshly._

" _It's not enough for the Restorative Potion. Kneel and we'll go again," Snape sneered, taking his boot from Lupin's back._

_Lupin lifted his face to Snape's, mouthing a silent plea for mercy._

" _I said, sit up, you foul beast!" Snape hissed malevolently. The collar pulsed and Lupin was yanked into the kneeling position before Snape whose lip curled unpleasantly once more as he raised his wand and he picked up another phial ..._

He heard the Dark Lord chuckle.

_Snape stood, his legs braced astride as he cast, Crucio! at Lupin, whose body twisted and convulsed and Levitated as he screamed. Snape ceased the spell sharply and Lupin fell the the floor, gasping._

" _Get up, beast and collect your own foul sweat!" Snape snarled, pointing at a rack of phials._

_Lupin shakily got onto all fours, sweat dripping from his nose and stretched out blindly and grabbed the rack of phials._

" _Fill the phials, beast!"_

_Lupin collected his sweat in the phials, and Snape labelled them neatly as he held Lupin in place with his boot._

"No collar, Severus?" the Dark Lord asked.

"I wished to hear him scream, my Lord," Snape responded, his face impassive.

The Dark Lord nodded his approbation. "Very good, Severus. Lucius, shallow man that he is, seems to be affronted that you have not had sex with the creature."

"My Lord! It is not even human. You know how I despise desires of the flesh. But with a creature, my Lord: it is not even natural." Snape emanated affront.

"You are quite right, Severus, quite right. But sex is also power, is it not? Lupin is a werewolf. Consider the humiliation and pain he would suffer to be subjugated sexually by a wizard. I am not surprised you haven't considered it. But then, you are not Lucius, after all." The Dark Lord's tone was disdainful. "There are prophylactic enchantments that can protect your flesh from contact with the beast's whilst still achieving your purpose." The Dark Lord looked at Snape, as an enthusiastic school master would a particularly talented prodigy. "I will teach you them."

"You honour me, my Lord."

oooOOOooo

Snape and Lupin sat in silence.

"Say something, Remus. Please," Snape said. His face burned with embarrassment in relating the Dark Lord's edicts.

"Piece of work, this master of yours, isn't he?" Lupin said, with a resigned air. "I confess to you – sado-masochism really is not my bag at all, but I think you know that. We need to find a way to do this. You and I, Severus, are not without resource, after all." A small smile started to play on Lupin's lips.

"You are the master dissembler. But, Professor Snape, I think I can teach you a thing or two. For each of us: things are seldom what they seem. You'll find my history of pranking that you so deplore has its uses."

"Explain," Snape asked, the chill he felt lifting as he watched his husband's smile grow broader.

"We will base it all on how you enchanted your wand with that paint-flinging jinx."

As Snape started to understand, he slowly returned the smile.

oooOOOooo

They were in the cellar once more. It was now Snape's torture chamber. Conjured chains, manacles and hooks adorned the plain cellar that had been his potions laboratory. Snape thought it was perfectly ridiculous but Lupin had been busy utilising all his not inconsiderable transfiguration skills and Snape had to admit, it looked to all the world as if he'd harboured a torture chamber in Spinner's End for decades.

Lupin had had to Conjure and transfigure it all because if Snape's wand did it, the minute he tried to bind Lupin, the spells unworked themselves because Snape's wand was bonded not to hurt Lupin. As Lupin worked, he talked.

"Realism is the key, Severus. Sirius and James were always impatient – wanted to get the prank done. They didn't properly savour the triumph of a prank well executed. I was the lynchpin, as it were." Lupin thought for a while.

"Do you remember when we charmed the Slytherin goblets to sing madrigals every time one of you tried to take a drink?" Lupin asked, with a smile.

"Bloody idiotic, it was too," Snape grumbled.

"Couldn't undo it though, could you, mister smarty-pants?" Lupin crossed his arms, smiling more broadly.

Snape frowned. He remembered that no-one at the table could, not even the seventh years. Dumbledore had undone with a small flick of his wand, but only after renditions of "The Silver Swan" and "Now is the Month of Maying" had nearly driven them mad.

Lupin tapped his nose conspiratorially. "Fine charm work, if I say so myself."

"You?"

"Of course, me. But, that's not the point. Level of detail. That's the point. Did you notice the madrigals had eight part harmonies?"

"Actually, I did. And Flitwick went on about the 'exquisite harmonies' for weeks," Snape said, his voice bored.

"Yes, level of detail, you see. It must convince those who are masters of the art. Would you say Voldemort was a master of the art of torture?"

Snape raised his eyebrow at the idiocy of the question. "Of course he's a master of torture!"

"Do you recall the prank when we charmed the armour of the Uther the Undead to fly at the Slytherin table?"

"That was dangerous and stupid!" Snape said dangerously, remembering how the armour had nearly hit him full on. Of course, Black had been aiming it at him.

"And a complete hoax," Lupin said with a smug look.

"Pardon."

"A complete hoax. It was a Perception charm. The armour was ten feet away from all of you. The Levitation charm of the armour was easy, but working a Perception charm on a whole table of students – not so easy."

"You?" Snape pointed at Lupin with one long finger, and a look of resignation.

"Me," Lupin confirmed, pointing to himself. "Do you recall the charm I worked on your boot so it looked like it had pinned me, but actually, it hadn't. That was the same Perception charm. It's all about layers upon layers of charms so we can build your memories from component parts so we can create things that are monumentally unpleasant, but a complete fabrication, and hopefully, I'll have nothing worse than grazed knees. Are you up for it?"

"Possibly," Snape said uncertainly, a little taken aback by Lupin's less than serious approach to the problem at hand, although he could never underestimate Lupin's knowledge of charms and spellwork.

"Your wand is bonded not to harm me so, luckily for me I think, we won't give him a real show of your torturing me by magic. But we'll charm your wand together using the same spell you used to deceive me with the Killing Curse. What was it?"

" _Abscondo incantores cum quod incantores_ ,*" Snape said, "inserting the spells you wish to hide, then speak the other spell."

"We'll need to practise the look of a whip lash Glamour as clearly Voldemort will expect me to be whipped soundly, I'm sure."

"So am I. So I vocalise the whipping hex, but I cast a Glamour for the wounds, am I correct?"

"Exactly, Severus," Lupin grinned.

"Are you able to take this seriously at all?" Snape said smartly, a little unnerved by Lupin's humour.

"I don't think I can, no," Lupin kissed Snape on the mouth, and then continued.

"Let's see: we need you create Glamours of wounds when you apply a whipping curse. The Glamours must be highly detailed. They cannot be poorly applied or Voldemort will see through it easily. We can transfigure my appearance at various points. I can do a certain amount wandlessly."

"Can you make an aura?" Snape asked.

Lupin tilted his head, interested.

"Do you recall that first time with me, how resistant your body was. Your magic tried to defend you and I saw your aura. Can you try to Conjure it? That will surely convince the Dark Lord?"

"Well done, Severus! That is absolutely the level of detail that's needed," Lupin said. Snape felt absurdly proud of the praise.

"Of course, some things happen naturally. You have sex with me, we'll both sweat and become tousled anyway, so no need to worry on that score." Snape could tell Lupin was mentally ticking things off his own list. "I assume this is the kind of stuff he's going to want to see. Pranks take planning."

"This isn't a prank, Remus. Our lives – your life – depends upon it." Snape said, his stare boring into Lupin's. And still, the man smiled hugely at him.

"Then it will be the greatest prank of all time. Think of it Severus! Pranking Lord Voldemort. Doesn't that have any attraction for you?"

"I feel ill."

oooOOOooo

Four days later, Snape was summoned. He knelt before the Dark Lord, who was quiet for a long time. Snape was nervous.

"How goes it with the beast, Severus?" the Dark Lord asked eventually.

"I have followed your sound advice, my Lord. It has had its own gratification."

"Indeed. Show me these memories in full, Severus."

Snape was shocked. The Dark Lord had never asked, only taken using varying degrees of force. Snape understood that it was because the Dark Lord didn't want snatches of memories; he wanted them all. Cleverly, Lupin had realised this. It was why he had been so painstaking in his detail. Snape's forgeries were ready.

_Legilimens!_

_Lupin's wrists were bound with a thick leather strap, and he was suspended by the strap from a hook from the ceiling. He was naked, his head hung forward, his back and butt criss-crossed with open whip marks and he sobbed, "Please Severus, I beg you not to do this!" "Silence, beast!" Snape yelled, as his wand made the wide motion to whip, and the crack of a whip was heard, and another bleeding stripe opened on Lupin's back and his body spasmed and he cried out in pain._

_Lupin was on his knees, his arms bound behind his back, tear tracks down his face. Snape's left hand held Lupin's hair knotted hard in his fingers and his wand was pointed at Lupin's temple and he thrust his cock hard into Lupin's mouth. "It's all you're good for. Look at me! Don't you dare take your eyes from me, beast!"_

_Lupin was bent forwards across a work bench, face down, his hands chained above his head, his ankles manacled harshly, his legs spread. He was naked, covered in sweat, the stripes from the whip now congealed, the skin inflamed around them. Lupin's magical aura pulsated Snape poured some water over them, Lupin hissed in pain and whimpered, "You bastard!" "What's a little salt water, beast? It keeps the wounds clean." Lupin sobbed._

" _That's right, beast. You cry like a baby. Weak, pathetic beast!" Snape moved between the beast's legs. "Severus! Don't! I beg you! Please!" He undid his robe just enough to bring out his cock, casting the spell the Dark Lord had shown him and pushed against the beast's arse. Lupin whimpered and begged him not to do it, over and over again. "It's all you're good for, Lupin," Snape snarled, lining himself up as Lupin whimpered in fear and tried to wriggle but could not. Snape leaned forward, pushing down with one hand on Lupin's shoulder and rammed himself in as Lupin cried out in pain. "You foul, dirty animal, Lupin." He began to thrust in hard._

The Dark Lord left his mind without hurting him and smirked at him appreciatively.

"Very good, Severus, very good. You didn't enjoy it though. Your revulsion is quite palpable."

"I enjoyed the creature's pain and discomfort, my Lord, but I would rather not have sullied myself with him."

"But you used the spell I taught you."

"I did, my Lord, thank you. But I could still -" Snape shuddered for effect "– feel him."

"I understand, Severus. You have done well. Have you done any permanent damage to the him?"

"Nothing I couldn't heal, if I chose to, my Lord. However, any internal damage I may have caused won't affect taking the bones and tissue I want."

"I regret that I must disappoint you Severus. I have given this a great deal of thought since we last met. I cannot have you distrusted by the old man. You are more strategically important than what the creature manages to achieve with the werewolves. I need my eyes and ears on the old man. If you restore their pet to them, that would place you in a greater position of trust with the old man, do you agree?"

Snape schooled his expression to one of quiet resignation. "As you wish, my Lord," Snape said, allowing a trace of bitterness in his tone. "Strategy is more important. And I will have my memories anyway."

"I realise this is a severe disappointment for you, Severus. You have been so patient. If the creature survives the war, I will ensure you are given the honours for his destruction. In the meantime, tell the old man, you have located the beast, and you have a plan to free him. It would be prudent to look to Obliviating those memories, as deliciously evocative as they are for you. We cannot afford for that prying old man to find them. Then, I suggest you tell him I have given him to you for a specific potion and that you need some time to heal him. Then that is what you must do so you can present him in pristine condition. Can the beast be Obliviated of what you have done to him before you yourself are Obliviated?"

"I believe I have weakened his mind enough to do so now. I have constantly _Legilimised_ him after I violated him to try for your information in the pack in Wales."

"Do not carry on hurting him, Severus. Concentrate on the Memory Charm. We cannot return the beast with a brain of mush," the Dark Lord sighed, with clear disappointment. "However, did you find out any more?"

"The only item so far from bits and pieces of beastly gossip is why Idris is so resistant to you," Snape said calmly, _baiting the hook_.

"Tell me!" the Dark Lord hissed.

"In the last war, Idris and Greyback fought in wolf combat – that is, without magic, my Lord," Snape sneered in derision. "Idris defeated Greyback and sent him and his pack running with their tails between their legs. They have no respect for Greyback – he is, I believe the term is Omega – and accordingly your reputation is tainted with his failure and dishonesty."

The Dark Lord's slitted nostrils flared and his mouth became an ugly frown as he inhaled deeply with offence. "Tainted with a beast's failure?" the Dark Lord whispered dangerously.

"Indeed, my Lord," Snape confirmed, never dropping his gaze so the Dark Lord didn't doubt his sincerity.

"What dishonesty?" the Dark Lord hissed. _Taking the bait ..._

"Greyback had taken Idris's mate hostage, promising to release her if Idris won. Idris won but Greyback violated her, and slaughtered her."

"These animals have no restraint and we have no way of monitoring him. But if Greyback doesn't keep his word, my pledges to the werewolves will be seen as worthless," the Dark Lord seethed. _Bait taken – hook, line and sinker._

"Indeed so, my Lord." He felt the Dark Lord's magic pulse and build.

"Bring him to me, Severus. He must be taught a lesson. One he must not forget..."

oooOOOooo

Yes, Snape would have those false memories Obliviated, he thought as he made his way out of Malfoy Manor. They couldn't be gone fast enough for him. Lupin would do this for him. Only Lupin could be trusted with his open mind. He hadn't confessed to Lupin that even these false memories haunted him. They broke his heart. They'd made the concoctions look so realistic. He wanted them gone.

He wanted gone the picture in his mind of Lupin's head thrown back in pain. It didn't matter that it was false. He didn't want it. He only wanted to see Lupin's head thrown back in ecstasy – exposing his tendons and his Adam's apple so beautifully - or in laughter. That's what he wanted to recall.

He wanted gone how he had told Lupin when he pretended to force him orally, he would force him to look at him. "But I always look at you," Lupin had said, guilelessly. "Yes, you do, because you are willing and it is wonderful. But if you were unwilling, it is complete humiliation." Lupin had caressed him to calm the painful memory. He only wanted to remember Lupin being willing. Never with tear tracks down his face. It didn't matter that it was play-acting and a Glamour. He wanted it gone.

In the fabricated rape, even though he prepared Lupin thoroughly and the both knew he had not been hurt, Snape recalled how he had lost his erection the second Lupin had begged him to stop. When they knew they had enough for the memory, Snape had rushed to release him from the fetters, kissing him and stroking him, even though Lupin had hurried to reassure him he was okay. Snape couldn't bear it, massaging Lupin's stretched back and arm muscles as they sat on the floor and how Lupin had held him so tightly in Snape's horror at the life-like pleas that he never wanted to hear from his beloved's mouth.

These forgeries had served their purpose. He wanted them gone.

oooOOOooo

Snape came out of the Floo, into Lupin's waiting arms. Lupin led Snape to a chair. Snape took it gratefully.

"My head hurts," Snape said, cradling his head in his hands.

"What has he done to you?" Lupin said quickly.

"No, no. I am unhurt." He turned to face Lupin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "The Dark Lord wants me to heal you, Obliviate you of my abuse of you, then pretend to be your friend and return you to the Order to show Albus I am loyal."

Lupin let out whoops of joy and took Snape in a bear-hug. Snape had pranked the Dark Lord as far as Lupin was concerned. Snape certainly hadn't considered what he had done in those terms. He had thought of it as Machiavellian scheming, not Marauder Perception charms: things are seldom what they seem, after all.

"It worked!" Lupin laughed, as he held Snape at arms' length to look at him.

"It worked." Snape smiled with satisfaction.

"You are the master of manipulation, Severus."

"I have been taught by the very best," Snape nodded sagely, then grinned as he grabbed Lupin's hand and led him up the stairs to claim his prize.

oooOOOooo

When they had made love, Snape was sure that neither man had ever been so gentle as if to give the lie to the false memories they had made. After they had come together, Snape had been shocked when Lupin had begun to weep quietly, holding Snape so close. What a fool Snape had been to think Lupin had been dismissive of those false memories or had found them amusing: Lupin whose gentleness and passion had been a life-changing revelation for Snape; Lupin who had begged not to be involved in even passionless sex when they had first had sex together; Lupin who feared the animal within.

He kissed Lupin's tears away, strong for Lupin's sake.

* * *

*** Hide this spell with that spell.**


	70. A Taste of Heaven and Mercy

These would be tender times. For these few days at least, Snape knew neither of his masters would summon him, and this would be their time.

They had slept, cradled in each other's arms. Although the sun shone weakly through the net curtains of their bedroom window at Spinner's End, this morning seemed like such a bright morning to Snape. After a week of plotting torture scenarios and enacting them, now he felt like a man reprieved and all he could do at this time was to drink the sight that always made him feel so light in heart and mind.

There were times (and Snape had to admit they weren't often) when Snape liked to sit upon the bed, legs curled to the side, and just explore Lupin's body. Not for lust, but just because he enjoyed the feel of Lupin's skin under his fingertips and the way Lupin would never take his eyes from Snape's face, even though Snape would watch his own hand's progress. It would usually only happen if they were spent sexually as it seemed it didn't take much for Snape's touch to ignite Lupin's desire. And once Lupin became aroused, then really it was only a matter of time ...

But this was a distraction. This was one of those _other_ times when he would let his hands wander luxuriously slowly over Lupin in a way that he had never even contemplated wanting to before Lupin. Lupin lay stretched out before him, one arm behind his head, the other relaxed at his side as he watched Snape gently and slowly running his fingers along the edge of his rib cage and down the plane of Lupin's side, smoothing them over Lupin's hip bone and around his thigh muscle. He swept across the soft inner thigh, then through the curled brown hair on the pubic bone and traced around and across his stomach in lazy diminishing circles until he was tracing Lupin's navel. He followed the midriff line to the breast bone and smoothed along the pectoral muscle then up to trace the clavicle until his fingers met the hollow at the base of Lupin's throat.

Snape moved his fingers away. Tracing Lupin's neck and ears always aroused Lupin. He wanted to explore his skin more first. His fingers traced back along Lupin's chest, across his shoulder joint and his hand smoothed the bicep muscle and then the muscles in Lupin's forearm, so clearly defined, then they reached his hand. Snape's fingers stroked the back of Lupin's hand and the soft spaces between the fingers and then enfolded the fingers with his own.

He looked up at Lupin, to the soft blue eyes that beheld him. And he smiled.

Lupin smiled back and softly stroked Snape's stomach as he always did. Snape flinched as the gentle fingers touched his new scars.

Lupin sat up, taking one of Snape's shoulders in his hand. "Does it hurt still, my love?"

"No," Snape said softly, "but it's ugly." Snape found that now he had become comfortable with, and even welcomed, Lupin's attentions to his stomach, he would miss them if they were withdrawn because he was now scarred.

Lupin took Snape's hand in his and guided Snape's fingers over the large puckered silver Turning bite that marred his body more than any other of his many scars.

"Ugly," Lupin said simply.

"No!" Snape protested.

"No," Lupin repeated to him quietly as he traced the scars across Snape's ribs and leant in to kiss each one. Snape's eyes closed slowly, and he stroked Lupin's hair softly.

"It's time," Snape said. "I'm ready."

Lupin sat up and nodded, collected his wand from the bedside cabinet and poised his wand as held Snape's face as gently as Snape had held Lupin's before.

Snape collected the foul forgeries to the front of his mind, and met Lupin's eyes.

" _Obliviate."_

oooOOOooo

Minerva had agreed to look after his House whilst he extended his Easter break for work for the Order. Apparently, Umbridge was angered by his absence, Minerva had wryly informed him. Well, he would deal with her when it was necessary. In the scheme of his concerns, Umbridge rated just below keeping his Flobberworm supplies up to date. Like it or not, however, he did have work to do.

"Sooner or later," Snape said to Lupin's enquiry about the documents spread out on the small table in the sitting room, "I have to do some work for the school. I go back next week." He picked up Lupin's hand that rested on his shoulder, and kissed it lightly, as Lupin leant in to see what Snape was working on.

"Careers advice for the fifth formers," Snape announced. He put the papers he was holding down as Lupin pulled up a chair. "It's so pointless, Remus. All the purebloods will be what their parents were before them. No magic of discovery and achievement for any of them. Effectively, they'll all become just breeding stock within their tight community. Look at them: Draco Malfoy, although he may take a sideline at the Ministry, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, Daphne Greengrass, Theodore Nott, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, although I may concoct a sterility potion in their particular cases."

"Severus, you're hardly taking this seriously," Lupin laughed.

"That is all these children are for: to carry on each benighted family's lineage. Sometimes, I can't even be bothered to be creative. As it is, I get Howlers from parents believing I'm trying to persuade their children to counter-jump into trade."

"But you do try ...?"

"Of course, I try ... I'm just saying that it is a pointless exercise that I carry out every single year. Look – look at this." He passed over a card of grades and teachers' comments to Lupin. "Theodore Nott: he's an exemplary potions student. He could easily be an Apothecary, or any related profession – a Healer, a Magivet. He's a clever boy. I think he'd like to be solitary, but he's afraid not to be part of the group his father has chosen for him, so, of course, he hangs around with Draco Malfoy. Half the time, he looks as if he hates it; the other half, he's just happy not to be noticed." Snape sighed heavily.

He picked up another card, as if telling an unpleasant fortune. "Blaise Zabini: his Arithmancy and Runes work is top-notch, and his Charms and Defence work is exceptional – he could be an Auror, a Curse Breaker, any profession requiring a sharp intellect and good skills and reactions. For a boy of his ability, the wizarding world would offer him many opportunities. But, he will marry, sit on his fortune and breed more pure-blood children. There it is; it's not up for question.

"Millicent Bulstrode," Snape picked up her card with his annotations. "A surly, unpleasant child, no doubt brought about by her less than appealing appearance, such is the vacuity of our society. An arranged marriage for her, without question, especially as her blood-line became diluted with her father's unfortunate marriage to her half-blood mother. They will be looking to correct that with their choice of husband. She will not be expected to work. Indeed, it would be most unwelcome." He leant forward to Lupin. "The girl adores animals, Remus. Her father has a hobby farm and breeds Abraxans.* You should see the difference in the child when she talks of them. Her face lights up with a smile so broad and bright. She is knowledgeable about their care, training and breeding and she's a natural at Care of Magical Creatures. I will discuss Magizoology with her, Magiveterinary nursing and even joining her father's own stud farm. She will harbour hopes for a future as long as it takes her to tell her parents and then I will receive a Howler of monumental ferocity from Brutus Bulstrode the very next day, I can assure you."

Snape pinched his nose as he picked up the next card, and frowned deeply. "Some of the most beautiful student prose and poetry I have ever read has been written by one of the most unpleasant students I have ever had the misfortune to teach. Pansy Parkinson is an exemplar of her type: an entitled bully. Every facet of her personality that I despise has been engendered and nurtured in her by her parents to be reproduced at the earliest opportunity. And yet, the child has a turn of phrase, an appreciation of the written word, a feel and love of language that belies her vapid prospects. How much better for her to study literature or journalism and maybe bring out that love of beauty that clearly resides in her mind but which her upbringing has repressed?

"Truly, Remus, I am defeated at every turn." Snape looked at the pile of cards despondently.

"You know so much more about your students than I ever realised, Severus." Lupin said, proudly. "But, tell me, do you really think Draco will end up in the Ministry, like his father?" Lupin picked up the card that Snape had been working on for Draco Malfoy.

"He has learnt the machinations of the Ministry and the power of Galleons at his father's knee," Snape said with derision. "I would be surprised if he did not. He had a cadre of cronies from his first day at school, some just brawn," Snape picked up Goyle and Crabbe's cards, "and some talented, just like a true political sponsor." He leaned back in the chair and looked at Lupin. "The sad thing is the waste of talent. He's a bright boy, but he is privileged, indulged and steeped in his father's hatred and prejudices."

"You don't think he'll join Voldemort, do you?" Lupin asked sadly.

"I think it's just a matter of time."

oooOOOooo

There were times (and Snape had to admit they weren't often) when Lupin liked to explore Snape's body but liked Snape to allow him free reign. He would push Snape's arms up slowly to grip the bedstead so Lupin was free to drive him wild. Lupin liked to stroke Snape's skin and watch his passion ignite. He liked to touch him in all the places that Snape enjoyed and slowly make him insensible with desire. Lupin enjoyed telling Snape softly, in his ear, what he would do next, to see Snape shiver in expectation.

As his fingers would lightly stroke down the tendons of Snape's long neck and abrade the bites on his chest, Lupin would nip Snape's neck, asking him if his hand should go lower or should it be his mouth, his tongue, his teeth, his lips. What would Snape want? What would he want most? Snape wanted it all. He yearned for it all. At first, he would be able to say what he wanted, but as Lupin progressed down his body, the thrills becoming more insistent, the tingling of his skin becoming deeper, the desire in his groin becoming hotter, he would become less able to speak as his throat became dry and obstructed. By this time, Snape could no longer speak. He was now on fire. He would become desperate to hold Lupin, to kiss him, to guide him where he needed him. But this was Lupin's time – how Lupin wanted it to be. All Snape could do was to encourage with his writhing body and guttural noises of luxurious desire.

Finally, when Lupin's hands and mouth had Snape sweating and arching under his touch, he would place his fingers and know Snape would open for him, wet and hot, that his fingers weren't needed, but they were desired, as he lay to one side of Snape's glistening, tense body and snaked his fingers in. A low growl of pent up desire would escape from Snape's throat and unable to resist he would drive his own body down on them, as Lupin whispered encouragement into his ear, licking and nibbling the lobe. "That's it, my love. Harder. Do it harder for me. Beautiful, so beautiful."

Snape would whimper in the back of his throat, almost a growl, feeling so open and now needing to be filled, as his body would arch and twist onto Lupin's fingers. Lupin would push his fingers in harder and until Snape cried out and arched sharply, his prostate found, his vision blossoming out, as he would push himself on again, needing the feeling, wanting the feeling but now too hot in his body to bear postponement any longer.

Snape was panting now and Lupin agonisingly slowly positioned himself over Snape until they were face to face, as Lupin whispered how he loved him as he guided himself in, and Snape groaned low in his throat as the hot friction seared inside him at last and his grip on the bedstead tightened. Lupin rocked gently but deeply into him, each thrust heating him inside and provoking that same low groan. Not be able to touch Lupin, whilst it intensified the glorious sensations Lupin provoked, also heightened the tension in Snape's body until he felt as if he would snap with each thrust until he could bear the tension no longer and growled, "Please, Remus. Let me ... please!"

With that plea, Lupin rested his body onto Snape's, kissing Snape deeply as Snape wrapped his legs around Lupin's waist, one hand holding Lupin's head into the kiss greedily and they both now moved against each other, wantonly and deeply, with Snape crying out each time his prostate was hit as Lupin stroked his cock now to bring him on. He couldn't last long now, his head and body were so thick with deep red hot desire. Just a few more core-piercing thrusts and he came so hard, his release was a ragged noise, ripped from his throat as Lupin cried out Snape's name as he pulsed inside him.

_Never, just never ..._ he thought to himself wildly, panting, stunned by the strength of his orgasm as it slowly ebbed away, and Lupin let himself slip next to Snape, holding his outstretched hand to Snape's chest over his heart, until it calmed once more.

* * *

"Thank you, Severus. I don't know how I can ever repay you ..." Lupin said as they walked noisily down the hallway of number twelve, Grimmauld Place.

"Get in, Lupin, and stop wagging your tail. I know you're grateful. Any more of that and I'll douse your flea collar with slow-acting tincture of arsenic. Enough!" Snape grumbled loudly as they barged into the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, Dumbledore having ensured most of the Order members would be there before an Order meeting and that Black had been suitably primed on the "rescue". The waiting members rushed to greet Lupin with a cacophony of questions, while Tonks and David watched Snape with barely concealed distrust. Dumbledore remained aloof from it all.

"There's no need to speak to him like that, Snivellus!" Black said loudly, grabbing Lupin into a back-slapping hug.

"Would you care to ask me if your friend has any back or rib injuries, Black?" Snape asked snidely.

"Any chance you two could be remotely decent to each other? I've had a bit of a trying time," Lupin asked hopefully, although his smile was huge for all those who smiled so readily at him.

"No chance at all," Black said. "He only saved you because otherwise Albus would shop him to the Aurors, we all know that."

"Stop being such a drama queen, Lupin. I got you out. You're healed and back at home with your loving pooch. Can we just get on with the meeting?" Snape growled, glowering at Black.

With that, the rest of the Order members piled in to welcome Lupin home as Snape stood to one side, his face impassive, and Black, on the other side of the table, equally impassive, nodded his unspoken thanks, and then turned to listen to David and Tonks telling Lupin excitedly about their friends, Amelie and Jasper's new baby girl, born without Lycanthropy. Lupin greeted the news enthusiastically, managing to catch Snape's eyes over the heads of the others.

_Well done, you._

* * *

There had, of course, been substantial news to discuss with Dumbledore, news that wasn't for the ears of the Order, all of which had been lost in the tumultuous events of the past week. How were the wards to be strengthened, especially now he refused to teach Potter? It had only been over a week since he had lost his temper so completely with Potter and he would have to confess all to Dumbledore, even if he hadn't yet had done so to Lupin.

"The authority rests with the head teacher of the school, and the head teacher alone, or Voldemort himself could just take the wards down," Dumbledore explained. "Even if I went at the dead of night, the wards will not recognise me to do any rebuilding."

"That's not so. Do you realise that she can't get into your office? The castle does not recognise Dolores Umbridge as the Headmistress," Snape said urgently.

"You don't say," Dumbledore chuckled, and stroked his beard. "That's quite remarkable."

"Besides," Snape said, bracing himself for the onslaught of ... disappointment, "I am not teaching Potter any more; inaction is not an option."

Dumbledore's eyebrow twitched, and his amusement at castle's refusal to acknowledge Umbridge vanished. The atmosphere in Snape's sitting room deadened.

"Why, may I ask?" Dumbledore eventually asked quietly.

Snape told Dumbledore what happened with the Pensieve. Hard though telling him he refused to teach Potter may have been; harder still was telling Dumbledore, who so clearly disapproved of Snape's incendiary temper at the best of times, how he had shaken the boy, thrown the boy, launched missiles at the boy that only missed because the boy stumbled. When he finished, he waited. Dumbledore stood and paced the floor of Black's library.

"Was I in some way unclear when I told you why I could not teach the boy myself? The danger in which that would place us all?" Dumbledore said, disappointment heavy in his voice.

"No, but ..."

"Did I not give you lucid reasons why Remus could not be taken from his infiltration missions?" Dumbledore persisted.

This time, Snape said nothing. There was little point if he was to be unceremoniously interrupted. His face became a mask and he became very still, awaiting a litany of faults to be laid at his door.

"Could you not put your teenage hurts and wounds aside so we all may be protected against Voldemort? Could you not find it within you to protect Lily's boy from possession." Now, Dumbledore waited for an answer, but Snape said nothing as his stomach knotted at the accusation, unfair and foul as he found it. But had he tried. Had he really tried? Yes, he believed he had. But he was only human. When would Dumbledore acknowledge that Snape was as frail as any other man? Why was more expected of him than of any other?

He looked Dumbledore straight in the eyes, but his expression remained blank. They regarded at each other, not challenging but appraising. Finally, Snape spoke, slowly and deliberately so there should be no misunderstanding between the them.

"I am not proud of my reaction to the boy's prying. Neither will I apologise for it. He had no right to pry. The boy pushes at boundaries without thought constantly. Perhaps he will think twice before he does so again. I will not, however, stake anything I value upon his learning any restaint." Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak, but Snape cut across him, his voice increasing in volume. "Would it not have been worth the risk of your speaking to the boy so he understood the importance of what I was trying to impart? That the visions he received were not the gift he thought them to be?" Snape said, affecting Dumbledore's tone in response. "Did I not warn you that I was the wrong person to teach him? Did I not tell you that the boy would not learn with me? Did I not tell you that he did nothing but hurt himself in those lessons? Since he refused to learn, never once practising, it follows that stopping the lessons cannot harm him. In fact, perhaps now he does not have me as the target for his animosity, he may be able to calm his own mind more. The wards, however, Albus. The wards can make the difference ..."

oooOOOooo

Snape had gone with Lupin to Whitby, just for that evening before Lupin went to find the pack with David the next day. Snape was going to transfigure his clothes from robes to Muggle wear, but Lupin stopped him.

"This is probably the one Muggle town in England where they'll see your robe and hair and take no notice whatsoever. It's Whitby, Severus, Whitby." Lupin said this as if Snape should know why Whitby would be different from anywhere else where robes would be odd, at the very least. Snape looked blank at Lupin's knowing insistence. Lupin rolled his eyes in an impression of Snape.

"Bram Stoker's _'Dracula'_?" Lupin said, expectantly. Snape still looked puzzled, and Lupin laughed. "This town gets many visitors dressed like vampires because Whitby is where Stoker had his eponymous creation disembark from his voyage from Transylvania. It even has a Gothic festival in September. It earns a mint from these visitors so a chap in a flowing black robe? Completely natural – welcome even."

Snape laughed softly. "I bet there's a fair few real vampires that take advantage of that."

"So do I. And not just vampires by the look of it," Lupin said, pointing to a poster pasted to a brick wall.

**_THE WHITBY PALAIS_ **

_presents_

_playing LIVE_

**_CONWAY & THE WHITBY WEREWOLVES_ **

_Featuring their smash hits:_

_LYCAN YOU LOVE ME?_

_LOVE AT FIRST BITE_

_TURN WITH ME!_

"At least, we won't have to look far," Lupin said, with a smile.

"You know it's them?" Snape enquired, his eyes wide at such a public proclamation, flagrantly in breach of the Statute of Secrecy and then grimacing at the poor puns in the song titles.

"Oh yes," Lupin said, jabbing the photo of 'Conway' on the poster: stocky, long blonde hair, over-large trench coat with the collar raised, and clearly playing up to his werewolf nature for his rock singer image in the snarl on his face. "I met him during the last Wizarding War. He had just set up this band." Lupin chuckled. "It could only happen in Whitby. When our intelligence said Whitby werewolves, I wonder if the collators had any idea ..." Lupin shook his head in amusement.

"Does it help that you've met him before? Will he be sympathetic to the Order's cause?" Snape asked.

"I think so. I certainly don't believe he could see a future for himself and his rock band under Voldemort, do you? I think David and I should ask if the band need any roadies."

Snape looked at his husband's profile and its amused expression and couldn't help but admire how Lupin just seemed to adapt to everything that was thrown at him, no matter how unexpected. Perhaps, it was his lifetime of moving on, voluntary or otherwise. Could anyone ever imagine Severus Snape applying to be a roadie?

It was dusk and they walked around the old town, Lupin pointing out places or architecture of interest, as they strolled down atmospheric, old, pokey, winding streets of fishermen's cottages and then they walked along the harbour wall, hand in hand, the sea air bracing as it slowly became chillier as the April night drew in. Lupin had this mad idea that they should eat fish and chips here.

"Surely we can do better than that," Snape said, supremely conscious of his working class upbringing, tainting the image of this food that he so often had as a boy, with the coppers he could find, if he were to eat at all.

"Snob," Lupin mock chided. "You'll get no better or fresher quality fish than here in Whitby. I tell you, Severus, fish and chips in Whitby, eaten here by the sea wall, will be unlike anything you ever tasted in Cokeworth."

So it was, in the old town under the Gothic ruins of Whitby Abbey, tasting the salt in the air as they ate prime fish with chips doused in vinegar, with no need of salt when the air was so laden with it from the brine of the sea. Snape couldn't deny it: this humble supper, wrapped in paper, sitting on the harbour wall next to his beloved, tasted incredible to him – nothing could have been finer. It was a taste of freedom deferred. Once they finished, Snape Banished the wrappers and they leant into one another as the harsh April wind whipped the salted sea air around them. To Snape, it was a small taste of heaven.

oooOOOooo

Of course, Snape knew he would have to pay the price, and was more than willing to pay it. The Dark Lord believed the deception was his own, not Snape's. Lupin was returned to the Order at the Dark Lord's wish so Dumbledore would think that Snape was loyal. But, to the Dark Lord's mind, Dumbledore would expect Snape to be tortured for his ineptitude, or he would guess the escape was a ruse. The other Death Eaters must not know that the beast's escape was a deception in case they were injudicious to whom they repeated it. The Dark Lord had, however, conceded to Snape in private before joining the full meeting that a blood penalty would not be extracted on this occasion. Indeed, on this occasion, the Dark Lord would be - merciful. Snape had, of course, grovelled in gratitude.

So be it.

_Crucio!_

Snape had not told Lupin it would happen and nor would Snape tell him. As he turned in the air, convulsing and screaming, before the assembled inner circle to atone for losing his prisoner, it mattered not that this was real torture, not cobbled together through Glamour and spellwork. It only mattered that the deception (no matter who claimed it) had got Lupin away from this monster.

For Snape knew only too well the consequences of failure. He had failed before. This time, he had sworn: he would do anything to keep Lupin safe. Even this.

* * *

* Abraxan - a winged horse, and like a giant Palomino - _Fantastic Beasts & Where to Find Them_


	71. Rock n Roll

Snape stumbled through the Floo at Spinner's End, allowing himself to sink to his knees, and then he slumped to the floor, the Curse chasing around his body, his breath hitching.

His Cruciatus Potion was upstairs in the bathroom. _How stupid_ , Snape thought. He'd Summon it, when he got his breath. But he seemed to have so much trouble getting his breath. It had not been the most cruel _Cruciatus_ the Dark Lord had visited on him, by any means. But he'd made a show of Snape for his Death Eaters, and held the milder version for a long time. Perhaps too long.

Lupin was under cover and they'd agreed he probably wouldn't be able to call until he returned from his first reconnaissance before the full moon. The Headmaster's office was shut up so he couldn't Floo to Poppy. He certainly wasn't strong enough to send a Patronus to her for help. He simply had to try to get his potion. But every time he tried to move from his supine position, he would cry out as the Curse re-charged and burnt his nerves more brightly and bound his magic. He lay there, trembling, eyes wild and wet with pain and helplessness. He wondered madly if he would just lie here until ... until when? Some-one came for him?

Of course! Dumbledore had made sure he had means of help, hadn't he? Precisely for times like this.

"Tippy," he managed to gasp.

The small elf appeared, no smile on her face this time, but a look of apprehensive expectation. Snape could see she understood her calling now.

"Professor Snape!" she said. "Tell Tippy which Potions to fetch." _Clever girl._

Following Snape's pained instructions, Tippy found and measured out his Cruciatus, Pain Relief and Calming Potions. She then Levitated him to his bedroom and the last he recalled was being delivered into fresh clean sheets and slipping into welcome oblivion, sleeping the rest of Saturday away, waking only on Sunday morning to Tippy's nurturing attentions of broths and cups of tea, to pack to return to Hogwarts on Monday.

Lupin need never know.

* * *

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Pardon?" said Severus, raising an eyebrow at the precipitate question before he'd even removed his cloak. _How had he found out?_ Snape wondered. _Could Tippy have told him?_ Lupin unclasped Snape's cloak for him and hung it up as they walked to the sitting room of the flat.

"I suppose that was a bit out of the blue," Lupin conceded. "Harry's last Occlumency lesson. Why didn't you tell me what happened?" _Ah,_ thought Snape, _this won't be easy either._ He braced himself, wondering if Lupin's disappointment would be as great as Dumbledore's. He knew already that it would be more hurtful. He'd been looking forward to regaling Lupin with stories of Umbridge's failure to deal with the Weasley twins' swamp, but this was quite a different conversation to have whilst Lupin was home for the full moon before setting off to Whitby again. His stomach lurched and he sat heavily on the settee.

"Events rather overtook me," Snape said, worrying what Lupin knew and, more to the point, who had told him. "That night ... that was when I got drunk ... "

"... And didn't answer when I called." Lupin nodded his understanding, but his expression was still quite disbelieving. "That's why you got paralytic? Because Harry saw that memory?" Lupin sat in the armchair opposite him.

"You think I overreacted?" Snape said. _You have no idea how much,_ Snape thought, _unless the brat has told you._ "Do you think I enjoyed having one of my students see that memory?" Snape said.

"Especially that student, I suppose," Lupin said contemplatively.

"That student and that memory," Snape confirmed. "Not the best combination for me."

"You know that Harry didn't mean to pry, don't you?" Lupin said, edging a bit further forward on his seat.

"Did he fall into the Pensieve then? Just happen to trip and detour four feet from the door of my office head first?" Snape drawled scornfully.

"That's not what I meant, Severus," Lupin said calmly. "He thought the Pensieve might have information about the dreams he's been having." Snape was about to interrupt, but Lupin lifted his chin gently to indicate he understood but he was carrying on. "It was wrong of him, undoubtedly wrong, I'm not justifying it. I'm just asking you to understand his motivation. It wasn't malicious."

"Then why did he stay in it for so long, hm?" Snape said, his jaw jutting. "He didn't pop his head in and realise it wasn't anything to do with him and then leave – oh no! He carried on gawking right up until ..."

"I know, Severus," Lupin interrupted softly, leaning forward to rest his hand gently on Snape's knee. "Did he see ...?"

"No, I stopped him before he saw that," Snape said softly, dreading Lupin asking him how he stopped him.

"Thank God," Lupin said, his shoulders drooping.

"For him or for me?" Snape snapped, suddenly feeling his anger reignite at the thought of it.

"For both of you," Lupin said firmly. "Look, Severus, I know how painful that would have been for you. But I just want you to understand that Harry took no pleasure in it..."

"Oh, I'm sure he didn't. I bet that's all over Gryffindor House ... again!" Snape exploded.

"No, Severus, I assure you it isn't. Harry isn't the boy you think he is. He never has been." Lupin smiled a small sad smile. "He's not his father - or his godfather."

Snape made a soft noise of disbelief.

"Oh, I know you don't believe me, Severus. I wonder if I can ever convince you to see Harry in his own right when you still feel so wronged by his father, but ..."

" _Feel_ so wronged?" Snape snapped, stressing the words delicately. "You don't think I _was_ wronged?"

"Severus! I said 'when you _still_ feel so wronged' – that you still feel it so acutely – that it is not something you feel you can put away from you ..."

"You think I should just forget it ...?" Snape whispered dangerously.

"Severus, please! We're talking in circles. I know it hurts you still and I think you have every justification for feeling hurt, but I do not think you are justified in hating Harry just because he is the son of the man who did that to you. That is what I'm saying! Now please listen to me."

Snape and Lupin stared at each other for a long time, Snape glaring but Lupin merely holding his glare. Finally, Snape nodded and Lupin continued.

"You're right that Harry shouldn't have done it. Yes, once he saw it was unconnected with his dreams, he should have left it straightaway. But, Severus, he saw his parents. Young and whole. I suppose it was too much of a draw ..."

"That does not excuse it!" Snape shouted, moving to leap up in anger, but Lupin grasped Snape's wrists and pulled him back down to the settee gently as he himself moved to sit on the floor between Snape's legs.

"No, no. It doesn't it, but it explains it, Severus. He stayed, he watched, and if you think for one minute that Harry enjoyed seeing what he saw, you're very, very wrong," Lupin said, shaking his head sadly.

Snape opened his mouth to disagree again, but Lupin set his chin and shook his head once in that soft gesture that told Snape Lupin would not be put off what he wanted to say.

"He was upset by what he saw, his father tormenting you. That was quite clear."

"I suppose Black was there too, and you both soothed the poor boy, told him that his father was indeed the bloody saint the boy always believed ..." Snape said acidly.

"Yes, Sirius was there speaking to Harry, but that's not relevant. James was a steadfast friend to me, Severus, and he had many good qualities," Lupin said firmly. "How he behaved with you should not colour the whole of Harry's perception of him. He doesn't need me to tell him what James did was wrong, or how Sirius egged him on or how I failed to stop it: he knows all of these things for himself. James was a teenager then, and he grew out of that behaviour. I don't think it would be right for Harry to judge him solely by that. James was a brave man who fought tirelessly for the Order and James died trying to protect Lily and Harry from the Darkest wizard of our times. I think Harry should be justifiably proud of that. Now please, Severus. Let us not argue over it."

Snape recognised the firmness in Lupin's tone that indicated he would not be moved on it but also how he held his hands firmly with affection told Snape it did not change how he felt about Snape. Lupin rested his head against Snape's thigh. After a time, Snape felt himself relax and he drew his fingers through Lupin's hair, wondering when Lupin would bring up Snape's violence as he surely must.

"Have you told Albus?" Lupin asked. Snape murmured his confirmation. "Will he teach Harry now or has he asked you to resume the lessons?"

Snape's stomach sank. Lupin did not know. Snape steeled himself.

"I'm sorry, Remus. I will not be teaching Potter. I did not react well." Snape found he could not hold Lupin's gaze. "I lost my temper with him very badly. Any attempted resumption of those lessons, already useless in my opinion, would just be a worse waste of time than they were before." He looked at Lupin's hands that rested on his thighs.

Lupin got to his knees and tilted Snape's chin up with his finger to meet his eyes. "How badly, Severus?" Lupin asked and Snape thought he heard worry in Lupin's voice. He closed his eyes. How soon would it be followed by reproach? He was almost tempted to lie, but if he lied, Lupin still might find out from another, and that would be worse. He looked straight into Lupin's eyes.

"I grabbed his arm to pull him from the Pensieve. I shook him and threw him away from me. He landed heavily on the floor. I threw a glass jar at him. It missed. My aim was poor. It was bad enough." There. It was said. He felt the sides of his face flush as he saw the disappointment in Lupin's eyes. He could see it plainly and it cut him deeply.

"Thank you for being honest with me, Severus," Lupin said and then sighed and placed his hands either side of Snape's face. "I understand."

"But you wouldn't do that, would you?" Snape said softly. "Behave like that to a child?"

"No, Severus, I wouldn't," Lupin said. "But I'll ask you this. Three years ago, would you have done that in the same circumstances?"

"I would have hexed the child into oblivion!" Snape snapped, then bit his lip for his intemperance.

"Progress, perhaps, then?" Lupin laid his head back down on Snape's thigh and Snape wondered how upset Lupin was with him. He brushed Lupin's hair away from his face and watched him for some time.

"You know," Lupin said, eventually, "Sirius had a fit of nobility and told Harry he wasn't proud of the way he behaved back then. I never thought I'd hear that, but I had to poke him in the ribs to shut him up. I'm really hopeful for the two of you."

"Don't be," Snape said gruffly, thankful for Lupin lifting the tension. "Neither Black nor I want it."

"Oh no, Severus. You can't stop me! Nor can Sirius. Nothing can stop my mission for my husband and best friend to get along. I'll work on it as long as it takes. We're all on the same side now, after all. We all need to realise it."

oooOOOooo

After the full moon, Lupin went back to Whitby to take up his position as lighting gaffer for the werewolf band. Snape had no idea what a lighting gaffer could be and had no idea that Lupin knew that much about Muggle electricity and lighting. He supposed that Lupin had done all sorts of work during that decade after the first war.

They had agreed to meet the following weekend. It meant ten days apart, but it was getting increasingly difficult to get time away with Umbridge at the helm, and Lupin didn't dare leave the group. They'd already had one approach from Greyback, and Lupin wanted to try to convince them to pledge or join Idris before the next visit.

He was to meet Lupin at the venue. This time, Lupin had taken the precaution of showing him how to transfigure himself into Seth Moore. He made the changes to his eyes, nose and hair, then transfigured his clothes: his robe became a long trench coat, like the one Conway wore in the poster, but black, of course. His shirt became a nondescript, long-sleeved, khaki collarless shirt of the Muggle type with buttons down the front, and his trousers became shapeless, washed denim jeans. He kept his boots. The last thing he did was to drink an elixir to change his scent. David would be there and would know his scent and Snape found he had less and less confidence in David. He did not want him suspecting the truth of his relationship with Lupin. He recalled how coal tar had effectively covered the smell of Polyjuice from Snape and disguised Crouch's identity from Lupin. The elixir would overlay his own scent with a stronger scent so hopefully David would not catch on.

Snape Apparated in the alley behind the Whitby Palais that Lupin had shown him and, Disillusioning himself, made his way through the stage door and through the warren of corridors until he was backstage. He hung back as he watched the crew clearing up from the previous night's concert and setting up for tonight's performance.

An oddly malformed couple of men shifted the huge amp boxes about the stage, then he spotted David and a distinctly dubious looking individual altering the angle of lights according to Lupin's magnified directions. He looked at the direction of Lupin's voice and saw Lupin in the wings at a control panel, wincing as the microphone he was talking into fed-back with a high pitched squeal. He was wearing a "Whitby Werewolves" T-shirt like the other backstage staff, jeans and trainers, and his brown hair streaked with grey looked unkempt. Snape smiled, finding Lupin quite desirable in a dishevelled fashion, but then, he hadn't seen Lupin in ten days – a bin bag would look good – or better still, nothing at all.

He watched him as he instructed David and the other man to do various tasks with lighting and rigging and Snape wondered just how, in ten days, Lupin had made himself respected and liked in a group who didn't know him.

 _Social skills_ , was the answer. Stupid phrase, he thought crossly, but he had to admit that Lupin had social skills to spare, whoever he spoke to: students, teachers, feral werewolves, rock group werewolves, aurors, anyone really ... everyone liked Lupin, they always liked Lupin until ... Snape wondered how Lupin managed the rejection he had so often, knowing people really liked him until they found out about his condition and then so many turned away or chased him away. He wondered how Lupin wasn't more like him. Snape could not have borne the amount of rejection Lupin always faced and yet Lupin never shut out the world like Snape did.

Snape watched him, his ready smile, a quick joke with the very tall man, his swift reassurance and kindness to the lumbering man with the vacant expression who kept dropping things, careful instructions to the other men working with the large lamps and trunks. Snape watched Lupin's movements, so economical, sinuous. He smiled to himself that this man was his husband and that he had the opportunity to watch him so openly and greedily in front of others; an opportunity normally denied to him.

"Break for lunch, guys!" Lupin instructed and then flicked various switches, and watched as the four men walked off to the green room. Lupin turned and strolled directly to where Snape stood, his nostrils gently taking in Snape's scent.

"Hello, gorgeous. Be nice to me and I can get you into show business," Lupin said with a chuckle. Snape removed the Disillusionment Charm, as his stomach flipped at Lupin's filthy chuckle.

"In the freak show perhaps?" Snape asked silkily. "How nice do I have to be?"

Lupin placed both his hands on the wall, either side of Snape's face. "Your very nicest," he purred as he caught Snape's lips and kissed him hungrily.

"I thought I'd disguised my scent so David couldn't recognise me," Snape whispered as Lupin nuzzled into Snape's neck.

"But I know your scent more intimately than anyone, Severus," Lupin said as he pulled away and smiled wolfishly at Snape and dropped his hands to Snape's hips. "It's good to see you. I like the coat, by the way. C'mon. I'll take you to meet the team."

The one thing Snape did enjoy about being transfigured was being able to walk with Lupin hand in hand as if he were an ordinary man with an ordinary life who didn't have to hide his feelings.

"Now remember: David knows you, so do not – and I mean it – raise your eyebrows in your Severus fashion. The whole game is up if you do. And you may find it difficult to resist when you meet the road crew. So your best stone face, Severus – sorry, Seth," Lupin smiled as they reached a door labelled _Green Room_ and heard raucous laughter from within.

"Stone face?" Snape repeated, his eyebrow rising automatically. Lupin looked at it pointedly. Snape lowered it.

"I do believe I've coined a new nickname for you."

"My wand may be bonded not to harm you, but the rest of me isn't," Snape whispered in his best dangerous Death Eater voice, but he had to admit, Stone Face was a damn sight better than Snivellus. He wasn't completely convinced that he wasn't feeling a certain pride in it. After all, hiding his emotions is what he did rather well - most of the time.

Lupin turned the handle and went in, followed by Snape. One by one the men in the room turned to Lupin and looked at the newcomer, friendly looks, without aggression or rancour.

"Guys," Lupin said cheerfully. "This is Seth Moore - my mate." David shot a startled look between Lupin and Snape, but he held his tongue although Snape could see that he was only just managing not to babble something as Lupin looped his arm over Snape's shoulders possessively.

"Seth, this is Conway," ("Yo, Seth!") "Thad," ("Hey man.") "Jethro, Freddie, Acastus," (each a fairly normal "Hi.") "Zebedee," (a nod as he practised the fingering on the fret board of his guitar) "and the crew: David," (a look of complete confusion at Lupin's possessive stance over Snape,) Spindle, (a peace sign – Snape hadn't seen one of those for a long time) "Dollop," (a strange, gap-toothed smile from the huge man) "and Pisser."

Stone face. Yes, he could absolutely do a stone face until he was alone with Lupin then he would beat the man black and blue for not warning him about those last two names.

"Will you have something to eat with us?" Conway said, in a very pronounced Irish accent.

"Not to worry," Lupin said. "We'll grab something later. I'll see you guys in a couple of hours."

Still very much stone faced, Snape burned with embarrassment as some of the men started to wolf-whistle and cheer and make comments such as "The quiet ones are always the worst!" and "Bit impatient, isn't he?" and laughter. It didn't seem to bother Lupin, not one bit, as he led Snape out of the theatre and down the alley to a cheap hotel where they had their digs.

Lupin's room was a small single room, not that that the size of the bed ever made a difference to them. As Lupin drew the curtains to give them some privacy, Snape picked up one of the concert programmes and thumbed through it.

" _Lycan you love me?_ Do they get the local kindergarten to compose their lyrics?"

"Not particularly deep, are they? But _Lycan_ has quite a memorable tune, when you hear it." Lupin chuckled again.

"So does _Baa Baa Black Sheep_."

Lupin beamed at Snape as he put the small electric kettle on to make them tea.

"So," Snape said, drawing out the word, "how does one come to be called 'Pisser'?"

"You know, it's not nearly as interesting as it should be, Severus. Apparently, when he was younger he used to, in the colloquialism of his Muggle junior school, 'piss ball' about, and he got stuck with the name."

"That is quite dull but I'm surprised he puts up with it. I can guess at Spindle," Snape said, taking a mug from Lupin and throwing off his trench coat and boots. Spindle looked to be a good six foot six but probably weighed no more than Potter.

"Are you going to ask me about Dollop?" Lupin asked, patting the bed next to where he sat already.

"I'm sorry to say that I realise he would have been saddled with that unfortunate name by school bullies because of his hulking appearance and rather slow wits, probably due to birth damage or an accident. I think it nothing short of vicious that no-one moved to ensure he was called by his given name rather than entrenching such an unpleasant and cruel descriptive name and I'm surprised that you, of all people, would perpetuate it." Snape sermonised. "Do you even know his real name?"

"Stacy."

"Dollop's a girl?" he said incredulously.

"Nope."

Snape lost his stone face.

oooOOOooo

Once Lupin had recovered from his own laughter at Snape's loss of composure, which in turn could only make Snape laugh at the tears that ran down Lupin's face, Lupin took Snape's mug from him and took him into his arms. Ten days had been too long for both of them and both kissed each other passionately as soon as they came in contact, a hot rock of desire pushed hard into Snape's groin.

Snape snaked his hands under the T shirt and stroked Lupin's chest, abrading his nipples with his thumbs, making Lupin gasp, exciting Snape so that he pressed Lupin down onto the bed, grinding his own hips against Lupin's, the zips and metal fasteners on their Muggle jeans creating greater than usual friction. They were both hard and they ground against each other as Snape grasped Lupin's flesh under his T shirt, pulling it higher as he stroked, as Lupin worked Snape's shirt free and then pushed Snape back so that he straddled Lupin's hips, and Lupin sat up also.

Lupin spelled the buttons of Snape's Muggle shirt open and stroked his hands up from Snape's stomach and across his chest until he reached his shoulders, then he drew the shirt open to sit on his shoulder joints as Snape leant forward to kiss him, intensifying the feel of Lupin's hands on his body, as if each touch left a burning trail that penetrated under his skin.

Snape held Lupin's shoulders tightly, continuing the kiss and Lupin undid the button fastenings on Snape's jeans and lowered them just below Snape's backside and massaged his balls and let his fingers play on the tip of Snape's erection sending shards of hot pleasure through his body. Snape's head tipped back with a loud groan as Lupin began to stroke him and bite at his exposed neck, slowly bending him back so he could bite and lick his chest.

Lupin moved them both towards the head of the bed so he could push Snape fully back and kneeled over Snape's legs, dragging his hands down Snape's sides to make him arch and moan, as he leant forward to kiss down his midriff and graze the head of Snape's cock with the edges of his teeth as his tongue swirled around it and under it, and Snape arched once more with the deep thrill of each touch. Lupin traced the underside of Snape's cock with his tongue and then took him in his mouth. Snape uttered as small cry as he was drawn deeper into Lupin's mouth inch by inch, Lupin sucking on him as he moved his head up and down, making Snape's groin burn brightly and pulse hard with accumulating desire as he knotted his fingers in Lupin's hair and thrust his hips up to meet Lupin's mouth, and then uttered a sharp cry as Lupin's fingers began to play at his opening, and then found his sweet spot. It was all too delicious and he mouthed silent encouragements, his fingers entwined tighter in Lupin's hair as his mind fogged red.

Lupin slowly pulled away, making Snape whimper at the sudden loss of Lupin's hot mouth and open his eyes to see Lupin's leaning over him. Lupin and Snape kissed deeply then Lupin pulled Snape's jeans off fully, and stood and dropped his own, his eyes wandering over Snape's excited, prone body all the time.

"I want to see your face, Severus," Lupin murmured and found his wand, ready to cast _Finite Incantatem_ -

THUD! THUD! THUD! A fist thumped on the door

"Remus! I need to talk to you!"

David.

"I'll kill him," Snape growled as he crawled shakily off Lupin's bed, the transfiguration still intact.

"Unless Voldemort has bought a ticket for tonight's concert, David, you are in big trouble!" Lupin called out, as he pulled on his jeans and pushed his erection uncomfortably back into them and, wincing, did them up, as Snape did the same, grateful for his jeans' looser fit.

Lupin undid his charms and swung the door open.

"What is it?" Lupin said curtly, actually trying to keep his frustration out of his voice.

"I ... I..." the young man almost hopped from foot to foot.

"What is it?" Lupin repeated wearily.

"I don't understand, Remus!" David said in a pleading voice, indicating Snape with his hand. "I thought ... what about S-'

"Transfigured, David, not that it's any business of yours. Now – if you don't mind ...!"

"Oh! Oh right, of course," David grinned broadly as he blushed. "I understand. He can't be seen ..."

"That's right. Now, not another word. Do you understand?" Lupin said abruptly, and for once, Snape could tell, Lupin was becoming angry, but not as angry as Snape had already become because now he understood.

David beamed happily and, with an apology, closed the door. Snape slashed his wand in angry locking and silencing charms.

"He thinks I'm Black! He thinks you're mated with Black!" Snape shouted. "Why haven't you disabused him of that notion?"

Lupin sat on bed again, looking sadly at Snape. "And who do I say I'm with without putting you in danger, Severus? I've never told David that I'm with Sirius. I only realised he thought that when we were with Zachary's pack. I didn't confirm or deny it. I just said it was too complicated to discuss."

"No need to worry about his being mentally strong enough to break the Memory Charm, that's for sure," Snape spat viciously.

"You really don't like him, do you, and not just because of this mistake?" Lupin said, regarding Snape questioningly.

"No, I really dislike him," Snape replied flatly.

"But why?" asked Lupin.

"He's weak – incompetent."

"He's not powerful like you or Kingsley, certainly not like Moody, but he's competent enough. He was a quill-pusher at Gringotts, Severus. He's only just learning to deal with werewolf packs, duelling and Dark magic. Everyone has to learn somewhere," Lupin said.

"He didn't even have a second wand, Remus," Snape said bitterly.

"Is that what this is about? My capture?" Snape's aggressive posture seemed to soften and he looked away. Lupin got up and went over to Snape. "Well, I should have told him. I'm supposed to be his mentor," Lupin said, fairly.

"He is obviously unable to do any wandless magic."

"Not everyone can, Severus. You know, you are rather living up to your name at the moment," Lupin said softly, with a small smile.

"That may be," Snape said curtly, "but the fact remains that if he'd have been competent, you would not have been captured by Greyback."

"How so?" Lupin asked gently, now standing facing Snape, his expression soft and his stance relaxed as he held one of Snape's hands.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe a third year spell like," he shrugged dramatically, " _Rennervate!_ " Snape exhaled, unable to maintain his anger now Lupin was standing so close, understanding his fear. "How much better would your chances of escape have been had you not be knocked out for so long and so near the full moon?" There was a plea in his voice. "Or if rather than go running to his girlfriend to kiss it better he'd alerted a _competent_ member of the Order!"

"He'll learn, Severus," Lupin caught Snape's lips and kissed him gently, pressing against him until Snape could deny himself no longer, and released himself into the kiss and the warm embrace. Then Lupin spoke into Snape's hair. "I love you, Severus. Now," Lupin moved away and pointed his wand at Snape's face, " _Finite Incantatem._ Come back to bed."

oooOOOooo

Two hours later, transfiguration back in place, they made their way back to the Palais and the green room. Snape's nose wrinkled at the leaden smoke in the air.

"Remus. Their eyes. That stink. What on earth have they been smoking?" Snape asked.

"Effy," said Conway, happily. "Want some?"

"We're ... a bit old for all that," Lupin said mildly as he served himself and Snape from the vending machine.

 _Not to mention in disguise and under cover. What is David playing at?_ Snape thought to Lupin who covered a small smile with his hand at David enjoying a shared roll-up with Thad.

"What's Effy?" Snape asked once they were in a corner with their plastic cups with contents that bore little resemblance to tea.

"Sprout's Efficacious," Lupin said. "Good stuff. Quite useful after transformations for easing the pain."

"Sprout? Not ...?"

"The very same," Lupin nodded with an amused expression on his face.

"Are you telling me that my colleague grows and distributes narcotics?" Snape was nothing short of astounded.

"Relaxants actually," Lupin corrected, "although regular use is habit-forming." He nodded in the direction of David, Acastus and Thad who looked completely blank. "I used to use it occasionally after transformations, before Wolfsbane. Pomona would sprinkle it in my drinks. It would help."

"I don't know what to say," Snape almost stuttered.

"Never brewed anything you shouldn't have, Severus?" Lupin said, knowingly, as he took a sip of tea to cover a smile. "Or taken something not quite – legal or Light?"

"I'm a D - ..." Snape stopped himself and dropped his voice to a very low whisper, "you know what I am, but Pomona Sprout? I never would have thought ..."

"Really?" Lupin shrugged. "And yet, I would have thought it was obvious!"

BAM!

Most of the men leapt to their feet as they heard the large metal fire doors being flung open and a commotion of shouting coming from the corridors. Wands were in hands immediately as they ran (some more steadily than others) to the stage towards the noise and found Greyback and nine of his pack charging towards them, firing off curses.

Snape saw Greyback growl when he set eyes on Lupin and he started to lumber towards him, snarling. Snape wasn't having that, not after all they'd been through. He elbowed his way in front of Lupin and unleashed a furious volley of Stunning, Whipping and Burning Hexes that drove Greyback stumbling backwards with their power and ferocity, away from Lupin.

"Nero! Help me with this one! Aidan! Take the others and finish the soft boys!" Greyback yelled. A large, shabby werewolf Stunned David and flipped a fast _Petrificus Totalus_ at Conway, both with absurd ease due to their own slow reactions, and then turned his wand on Snape. Snape smiled crookedly. Two was fine. He cast a _Gemino_ variant to his wand so his spells were cast at each of his assailants with the same speed and ferocity. He could see the apprehension on Nero's face, as he summoned all his resources to duel this unknown sandy-haired wizard but soon succumbed, burnt and whipped, to a well-placed Stunner and was bound within an instant, leaving only Snape and Greyback resuming their fierce one-on-one duel.

Lupin was to his side duelling two werewolves of his own, both young and large and both intent on practising the Killing Curse on him. Lupin's reflexes were more than up to the task of slipping out of the line of each curse until he felled them both with Stunners and bound them then turned to help Spindle and Jethro who were duelling another two, clearly faster duellists than they. As the four duelled, Lupin took his opportunity and cast Stunners and body binds at both opponents.

During this, Zebedee and Freddie took on two fearsome looking werewolves. Zebedee was felled quickly by one, who subjected him to the _Cruciatus_ as Freddie became more and more anxious at hearing the screaming and overpowered his opponent with a fierce Repulsion Jinx that sent him flying into the wall, knocking him unconscious. Freddie turned his attention to the werewolf torturing Zebedee and knocked him out with a Stunner.

Meanwhile, Aidan, a short but agile werewolf, and the remaining two werewolves, duelled with Acastus, Thad and Pisser. All were fairly matched, except Aidan who was faster and more practised than the rest of the five put together and landed blow after burn after whiplash on each of the three, until Dollop, unnoticed to the side, thumped one of the three assailants, who fell to the floor, out cold.

Aidan cast the Killing Curse at Dollop and Acastus tried to throw himself to push the slow man out of its way. But Dollop didn't understand and stood firm like a rock, and the curse caught Acastus, who fell lifeless at Dollop's feet. The big man slowly sank to his knees and moaned, "Castus?" as he tried to shake some life into the body. Understanding slowly dawned on the big man and his moan became louder. As Thad and Pisser continued to duel the remaining werewolf, finally succeeding in Stunning him and binding him, Dollop raised his head and looked for his friend's killer. His eyes fell on Aidan now duelling with one of his own against Spindle and Jethro. He lumbered forward and grabbed Aidan round the chest from behind, incapacitating him, one large hand enclosing Aidan's own and crushing it. Aidan screamed as Dollop broke his hand, and then snapped his wand like a twig.

"Move out, Jared! Wake those who aren't bound!" Greyback bellowed, recognising the ever-diminishing odds and unable to get the better of the unknown sandy-haired wizard. Jared, the remaining werewolf standing, who had been duelling Jethro and Spindle, cast _Rennervate_ quickly to the three werewolves who were unconscious but not bound and they started to retreat as quickly as they were able, stumbling over the rubble and destroyed instruments, rostra and lamps that were strewn over the stage. As Greyback moved back, he cast a departing _Avada Kedavra_ at a grinning Thad who had let his wand hand fall to his side too early. He dropped lifeless as the last of their assailants ran out of the building.

"NOOO!" yelled Jethro and ran to kneel next to Thad, cradling his head on his knees as he started to gently rock. "No!" he whispered.

Everyone stood still and quiet as the man keened softly in his shock.

"That what yer get when you ignore a summons from the Dark Lord," Aidan spat, doubled over his broken hand, as Lupin bound him with Conjured rope. "That's what you'll all get."

"Hit him, Dollop! As hard as you can!" Snape instructed the big man standing over Aidan. Dollop grunted as a half smile grew and his fist drove down, hammer-like, onto Aidan's head with a sickly thud that knocked him out and flattened him in one move.

"You have a new name," Snape said, looking up to the huge man. "I think Wallop suits you better. What do you think?"

The man nodded and pointed to his chest. "Wallop, Set Moe!" he boomed as the Spindle and Pisser clapped him on the back, even though everyone but Wallop was still struggling to catch their breath. Lupin wrapped an arm around Snape's neck and kissed him roughly, then released him. Snape spotted Zebedee, and went to him and fished out his shrunken Apothecary bag from his coat and enlarged some Cruciatus Potion. Spindle and Freddie sat either side of Zebedee as he took the potion, trying to calm him as the tremors chased across his body.

He was about to find the Dittany for cuts and whiplashes and the Burn Salve, when a mechanical caterwauling noise was heard approaching the building that Snape recognised to be police sirens, as Lupin picked his way through the spell damage on the stage and cast _Rennervate_ to Conway who awoke to come face to face with the dead body of Acastus. His face drained.

"It's the Muggle law!" Spindle squawked, surveying the dead, unconscious and bound bodies and wreckage around them. "We'd better blow."

Jethro gently pushed the hair from Thad's lifeless face. "Bye, mate," Jethro said, his voice choked and Snape tore his eyes away from the private grief he saw there.

"So, Remus," Conway said, finding his way through the broken lights and instruments on the stage and getting to Lupin. "I assume the gigging opportunities up a mountain in Wales are a bit limited. Who will we play to? The sheep? Would sheep stay still for a gig, man?" Conway asked, still edged on Effy, Snape could see.

"Probably not, now you mention it," Lupin said, as he took a large swig of water from a bottle, as Snape cast to awaken David from the Stunner. "But you'll go?"

"Too bloody right we'll go, won't we, lads? We want pay-back for Acastus and Thad, but we won't be able to do that on our own." The rest of the band members and crew murmured assent and Wallop held up his ham-like fist. "Wallop!" he growled.

"Good," Lupin said breathlessly. Snape cast a charm on all the bound werewolves to ensure none should see or hear what Lupin did next. Lupin cast _Expecto Patronum_ and the silver wolf leapt from his wand and turned to face Lupin, its ears alert. " _Hoc nuntius_ to Idris of Snowdonia. A group of eight werewolves: David, Conway, Jethro, Freddie, Zebedee, Dollop, Spindle and Pisser coming immediately. We've just fought off Greyback and some of his pack. Identification question: what is Dollop's new name and who gave it to him?"

Lupin sat back on one of the amp cases with Snape, steeling themselves to move out as David said his shaky good-byes to accompany the band as they all spilled into the corridor, with what little they had salvaged, leaving the rest behind for the Muggle authorities.

" _Secto tronum,"_ Wallop said, looking admiringly from Lupin to the tip of his own wand and then, when nothing came out, he shook it violently as if that might dislodge a silver wolf from it as he righted the largest of the cases with one hand only.

* * *

Snape supposed there were more surreal situations than the one he was in now, but to him to be sitting in Grimmauld Place after an Order meeting having a Firewhiskey with Lupin and Black was more surreal than he cared for. But they had to celebrate sending the rock group to Idris, even though, after Lupin and Snape had described the members to Black, the three had agreed that, just possibly, Idris might not thank them for these particular recruits unless their sad losses had sobered them up to the dangers they all faced now.

However, now, Lupin had intriguingly changed the subject.

"So, how long then? How long has this been going on?" Lupin challenged Black, a broad smile on his face.

"It's early days," said Black, his own smile broadening, but looking very relaxed and smug.

"That didn't sound like early days to me last night," Lupin said with a chuckle. "Silencing charm, Sirius. I recommend them highly." Snape found himself flushing. He really didn't need or want to know about Black's sex life. He got up to excuse himself. "It's all right, Severus. I'll spare your blushes. Merlin knows, I've never been able to make Sirius blush, no matter how hard I've tried."

Black barked a laugh and topped up their glasses. "To Emmeline," he said, his own facade slipping just slightly with booze as his eyes brightened. "For giving a man the rest of wizarding world thinks guilty a chance."

"Here's to second chances," Lupin raised his glass, and Snape uttered the toast.

"Now, Moony, tell me more about this job you did with the band. Why couldn't the lighting be done by magic?" Black asked, leaning forward with interest.

"Well, it's all to do with health and safety regulations that are enforced by the Muggle local authorities ..." Lupin began.

"Elf and safety?" queried Black, his face a picture of bemusement. "What do the elves do with safety then?"

"No, Sirius!" Lupin laughed deeply at Black's clear confusion. "You can't use magic, because the equipment has to be checked by the Muggle council so it has to be done the Muggle way."

"Electrickery! Brilliant! I never knew you could do that. How's it work?" Sirius asked excitedly, rubbing his hands together. "You know, if you tell Arthur you can do Muggle wiring, he'll probably have to find Molly and make another Weasley on the spot in your honour."

"It's called electricity, Black, and you - are an animal," Snape muttered, although he was struggling to hide his own amusement at Black's pureblood ignorance, and Arthur's love of all things Muggle was legend.

"Possibly I am, but this animal is your brother-in-law." Black wiggled his eyebrows at Snape.

Snape's eyes widened, disturbed at the sobriquet. "I don't think so, Black," Snape shot back.

"You know, I'm not sure if I don't get a better rise from you if I'm nice than if I insult you. This may be a profitable line of enquiry." Black rested back on his chair until it tipped on the two back legs as he looked appraisingly at Snape with a huge grin, while Lupin rolled his eyes.

"It makes no difference, Black. Yours is an acquaintance I do not desire either way." Snape folded his arms and Lupin rolled his eyes at Snape this time and excused himself to go to the toilet.

"Yet Remus does, you see. I promised Remus anything for his forgiveness and this is what he wants." Black chuckled and Snape began to feel uncomfortable without Lupin in the room. "Really, I get the best of both worlds, especially since Dumbledore says I'm to insult you to the best of my ability, which is pretty extensive, as you know, to maintain your cover. Who could ask for more?" Black smiled broadly, checking the door to see that Lupin was firmly out of the way. Then he rocked back onto the four legs of his chair, leant forward and stared at Snape intently and Snape's back stiffened, but there was no hatred in that intensity. Not anymore.

"You walked into Voldemort's lair and walked out with Remus and healed his injuries. How you convinced Voldemort to allow Remus back to us, Remus won't tell me ..." Black's eyes searched Snape's, "but I know this, Snape – I know you will have paid a heavy price. I know it. That's how much you love him."

* * *

_*Hoc nuntius – Take this message._


	72. Paradigm Shift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes in bold from Chapter 32 of OotP and the lyrics for 'Weasley is Our King' are © J.K. Rowling

Snape had done his very best to ignore Gryffindor's victory for the Quidditch Cup at school. However, he had no such luxury at Grimmauld Place for the next Order meeting. Black and Emmeline, usually so discreet when any other Order members were around, were billing and cooing over each other like adolescents as they bedecked the kitchen in Gryffindor coloured bunting before the Order meeting.

"Ho bloody ho," Snape sneered at Black when he was the first to arrive, not knowing whether he was more disturbed by the Gryffindor bunting or the spectacle of Black with his hands all over Emmeline Vance.

"Cheer up, Snape. At least it was against those boring brain boxes and no-one likes them. Except Remus, of course." Black laughed and sang,

" _Weasley can save anything,_  
 _He never leaves a single ring,_  
 _That's why Gryffindors all sing:_  
 _Weasley is our King._

"Sing along, Snape!" Black chortled.

"Where on earth did you pick that up?" Snape said, ruing the day he had ever slipped the idea to Malfoy for a song to antagonise the Gryffindors.

"Well, the kids were teasing Ron with it at Christmas. But Bill's taught me the up-to-the minute version. We could make it the Order's anthem." Black nudged Snape in the ribs and then went to put his arms back around Emmeline's waist who was laughing softly as she placed the Order-sized kettle on the range.

_Of course, Lupin had loved seeing Black with a "special friend", as Lupin called Emmeline in a rather old-fashioned way. Lupin thought it must be making an enormous difference to Black's self-worth to have someone to hug, to be affectionate and comforting with, all those things that Lupin had first convinced Snape were worthwhile three years ago._

" _You mean shag, don't you?" Snape said dismissively. "He just needed a damned good shag."_

" _No, I'm sure there's more to it than just a shag, Severus," Lupin admonished. "Although I don't deny, shagging has been good for his temper," Lupin conceded with a small smile._

It was true, Black's load seemed lighter and his moods brighter; he was clean and didn't smell constantly of old Firewhiskey and his humour was consistently good. In fact, Snape didn't know how much more of Black's good humour he could take. It unnerved him. When Lupin was around, it was worth suffering the indignities of Black's idiotic sense of humour and constant trespasses on his person in nudges and claps to the back, just to see the happiness on Lupin's face (not to mention, how his gratitude rather deliciously transferred to the bedroom). When Lupin wasn't there, like this evening, however, it was, at best, a trial – at worst ...

The kitchen door opened and Snape's expression changed from bad tempered irritation to schooled inscrutability as he took his usual seat.

"Bill, Arthur, Molly – you must be so proud of Ron!" Black crowed. "I've just been telling Snivellus ..."

"Sirius!" Molly scolded, and started flapping about Black with a tea towel.

 _... At worst, it was hell,_ thought Snape.

 

oooOOOooo

The following weeks were spent reviewing materials for OWLs; reporting on his spurious advances and then set-backs on the Muggle-murdering potion to the Dark Lord, working on Lycanthropy remedies and his speculations on a cure; reviewing gains and losses for the Dark Lord, reviewing the same information for the Order. It made for grim reading – for one side at least.

Most of the known and feared vampires had now pledged their support to the Dark Lord. There was nothing that the Order could offer them to entice them to change sides – there was nothing the Order was prepared to concede in the way of fresh human victims. All that could be done was to ensure Order members were trained in repulsing them or killing them and ready and able to pass that information on once the Ministry realised the danger looming over the magical and Muggle worlds alike and took action.

Snape had gathered information from Wilkes on various witches and wizards who were being approached by the Dark Lord. Snape was disturbed by the growing numbers being garnered even as Fudge idiotically denied the rebirth of the Dark Lord. It was clear, many others knew the supposed fable to be true and they were making their allegiances known early for best favour. The tally of minor Ministry officials itself was astonishing, and Malfoy and Yaxley were busy attempting to influence those with greater authority, especially now that they had such vital inside information coming from Rookwood. He knew Dumbledore was using his own contacts to block them as much as possible, but now Dumbledore himself was a fugitive, these interventions had become of necessity more convoluted and less effective. He put those reckonings to one side and picked up the next.

New recruits to the Order: a few more Aurors, quite a number of Ministry officials and employees, a few more Hogwarts professors, a number of Gringotts employees (courtesy of William Weasley), quite a number of Apothecaries and Healers (Snape supposed that would be natural to their calling), quite a few in trade - ah – Florean Fortescue – unusual, but apparently, people didn't guard their speech before the ice cream emporium-owner – interesting. Onto the next -

By Snape's reckoning, Idris's pack should now be augmented to over one hundred and thirty werewolves. Those packs that had pledged had each decided they wanted to be part of an augmented pack. Snape wondered how Idris was handling them all, especially the rock group pack. He wished he'd been there to see Idris's reaction to that odd bunch.

_/_

_Before the Order Meeting convened on Snape and Lupin's return from Whitby, Lupin had received Idris's Alpha wolf Patronus, which said, in the Alpha's rumbling voice:_

" _Are you kiddin' me, boy?"_

_The voice had not sounded that amused, but Lupin had laughed so hard, it had taken him several minutes to recover his equilibrium._

" _A Patronus Howler! Which one do you think finished him off that he had to send me that message?" Lupin had asked, laughing merrily, as they lay in bed at Grimmauld Place that night._

" _I don't think any one of them would have inspired him with confidence," Snape drawled, thinking of all of the many things that displeased him that might displease an Alpha of the longevity of Idris._

_"Perhaps, it was their 'Whitby werewolves' T-shirts ..." Snape said silkily, as Lupin traced Snape's chest playfully. "Or ... perhaps ..." Snape raised an eyebrow and inclined his head in enquiry, "Conway said, 'Yo.'."_

_/_

Lupin had decided to visit the extended pack in the summer, to lend any support he could. But that was a long way off yet. He and David had just returned from a large pack on Scafell Pike. It had been a difficult infiltration. It had already been visited by Greyback who was due to return for their decision. Remus had spent many days locked in conference with the Alpha and his main lieutenants. Just like Zachary's pack, there was a schism; however, this time, Albany, the Alpha was the one that wanted to affiliate with Idris. He was challenged on his decision by Rufus, a previously loyal Beta, and they had fought. Albany had won, but Rufus and those that followed him had left in search of Greyback and the Dark Lord.

Lupin had only had three days back in London, for meetings with the Order and Dumbledore and what felt like stolen days and nights with Snape, before moving on to the next identified pack: the Ancients of Dartmoor.

 

oooOOOooo

Snape had arrived at Grimmauld Place, anxious to see Lupin after his latest assignment, and was walking down its grim hallway when he heard Black and Lupin talking animatedly in the kitchen.

"Go on, Moons. Tell me! We always said we'd be godfather to each other's children. Can I be godfather to your cub? Yours and Snivelly's? "

"Sirius!" Lupin scolded. "Still? I thought you'd grown out of that name-calling!"

"Snape's – your and Snape's cub." Black's voice almost seemed to almost bounce in wheedling excitement.

"You know how I feel about that, Sirius. You know how I could never make another werewolf."

"Bet Snape could whip up a potion to sort that though. He may be a snake but – I mean – y'know – he's clever isn't he ...?"

"Yes, he is. And if he could, then our children – if we ever decide to have any - would hardly be 'cubs', would they?" Lupin teased.

"Children?" Black yelped. "Blimey, you're going for a Snape dynasty? A Lupin dynasty? Which name would it be? I suppose that's not important, but ..." Snape heard a pause and he imagined Black raking his hand through his long hair the way he did when something perplexed him. "Blimey, Moony. You've really got it bad for him, haven't you?"

 _Trying too hard - as good as wagging his tail ...,_ Snape thought with mild annoyance that he would ever consider Black as a godfather to any child of his.

"As bad as it can get," Lupin confirmed softly.

Snape kicked the troll's foot as loudly as he could to signal his arrival in the hall and the two men stopped talking abruptly. Snape smiled into his chest then schooled his expression to one of  
disdain as he swept into the kitchen.

"Yes, the surname would be an interesting conundrum for you, wouldn't it, Black? Imagine not marrying one's own cousin with the same surname ... how extraordinary that notion must seem to you ..." Snape said, his voice dripping with disdain.

"Severus!" Lupin greeted him, happily, only wincing slightly as the wide smile hurt his swollen black eye and his split lip.

 

oooOOOooo

Lupin reported to the meeting that the pack on Dartmoor had proved the strangest by far.

Greyback had been approaching them regularly but they had not pledged to the Dark Lord, but neither would they pledge for the Order. That they truly loathed wizards and witches was not even up for question. For the Ancients of Dartmoor, the oldest pack in Britain, the Dark Lord was also a wizard, even if he was a powerful one, and his dominion was to be resisted at all costs. It seemed so blindingly obvious that Lupin wondered why more werewolves couldn't see it as true. Whatever the Dark Lord promised would always be subject to their complete subservience to him. That was in no werewolf's nature.

For Lupin, just their abstinence from the fight was positive. It was a large pack, well-organised under a monstrously large, aggressive and highly intelligent Alpha called Hereward. It was just the kind of pack the Order did not want forming alliances with Greyback.

Lupin and David had been accepted into the pack relatively quickly, although Hereward had demanded their presence within two days of their arrival once word reached him they were medicated werewolves. Lupin quickly realised there was little to be gained by dissembling with this werewolf: no properly feral werewolves took Wolfsbane, after all, and he did not want to antagonise this leader. He spoke with him in private council over a number of days and it was during these that Lupin gleaned his now extensive knowledge of the pack.

As Hereward became less mistrustful of Lupin, he questioned him about the word that ran with the wolves of the ever-expanding pack in Wales: the pack of Keigwin. Lupin explained that Keigwin was Old English for white dog and it was Hereward's name for Idris. Far from insulting, it appeared the Hereward had a great deal of respect for him. After all, Keigwin had been Alpha of his pack for longer than Hereward had lived – that took cunning and intelligence as well as strength. (And Wandsong, Lupin had thought.)

But the greatest triumph, along with the guaranteed neutral status of the Ancients, was that Hereward had told Lupin that the word with the running wolves was that Keigwin's pack was a safe harbour for those seeking escape from Greyback and the Dark Lord. Lone wolves and small packs were beginning to make their own way to the Welsh mountain without the Order's intervention.

Greyback's aggressive recruitment was backfiring.

 

oooOOOooo

Usually, if Lupin was home, after the meeting, as the others had a drink together, or sat down to eat, Snape would make his way to the library and throw Floo powder on the fire so it would flare, covering the sound of his Disapparition to Lupin's bedroom. There, he would wait. Somehow, Lupin would transport a bowl of stew and some bread, or a portion of shepherd's pie up to Snape so he could eat whatever they were eating downstairs. It may well have been part of their cover, but, misanthrope that Snape was, it suited him right down to the ground: he never minded missing the chit-chat. In fact, he hated chit-chat. He would eat at the little desk in Lupin's bedroom, then Snape would undress and lie in bed, with one hand behind his head, and wait for Lupin. Sometimes, he would read whatever book Lupin had by his bedside, sometimes not. It beat a social evening with the Order any night of the week.

This evening, however, Lupin excused himself to tend his injuries and met Snape in his bedroom as Snape enlarged his Apothecary bag to get his Bruise Balm and Dittany and applied them as Lupin sat at the table.

"Tell me," he said as he began to dab at the facial bruising and the cut lip.

"Ah," Lupin sighed. "Young David got into a bit of brawl because he mentioned his mate was a witch. I rendered some assistance." Snape raised an eyebrow awaiting the rest. "It was nothing really," Lupin said lightly and then gave a slight hiss of pain as Snape removed his robe and shirt and Snape began to treat the bruises to his torso, his mood becoming darker with each bruise he treated on Lupin's body.

"That young man has the brains of a rocking horse, Remus. He really doesn't seem to know when to keep his mouth shut. And how many did he annoy that you have so many bruises ... he really does need some training. Perhaps that mate of his .." He stopped as he saw Lupin smiling at him, affectionately but with that patient air that told him he, Snape, was becoming aggravated, when Lupin had very different things on his mind as he slowly started to undo Snape's own robe.

"Talk of something else. Let's unwind, Severus," Lupin said gently. Snape put his salve down and relaxed against Lupin as he continued to undress him deliberately slowly and then led him to his bed. They slid under the covers together and Lupin laid on his side to look at Snape.

"Tell me something," Snape said, and Lupin pulled away slightly with eyebrows raised. "That conversation I overheard before the meeting ... does Black understand how we would ... ah ... have a child?"

"Yes, he does," Lupin said, laying his head on the pillow. "He did a lot of research on werewolves when he first found out about me."

"I'm surprised then," Snape said.

"About what?"

"I would have thought that would be prime taunting material against me ... to try to shame me."

"Don't you think he's changed now? Don't you believe that?" Lupin asked gently.

"He tolerates me for your sake, just as I tolerate him. Barely. It makes life easier for us but I know what ..."

"No," Lupin said softly, "not anymore. That's not true anymore. Sirius and I have had many discussions when we've been here on our own. And after I was captured ... well - I know how he's changed towards you – I know. Of course, he teases you! He teases me too! If there were no Voldemort, he wouldn't keep calling you that stupid name and being unpleasant just to maintain your cover. It's past ..."

"No, Remus, I can't believe that. He has made plain to me on numerous occasions he thinks I'm tricking you – an unreformed Death Eater who has pulled the wool over Albus Dumbledore's eyes."

"Has he once since you rescued me said these things to you when you two have been out of earshot of other Order members? Hm? Even once?" Lupin said carefully.

"No, but .." Lupin's fingers gently brushed Snape's lips and he shook his head at Snape.

"I don't need you both to be friends, but I'm always optimistic," Lupin smiled. "I don't believe for one minute now that Sirius does not trust you."

Snape looked at Lupin for a long time, trying to assimilate this information – this fundamental tremor in his reality. Did he care? Should it even matter? He didn't like Black. He suffered Black for Lupin's sake, because Lupin meant everything to him. It didn't stop him hating Black, did it? He hated Black. Didn't he? His head hurt. Had his world shifted so greatly yet again? Did Black feel this paradigm shift uproot his own certainties too?

He nuzzled his face into Lupin's neck, a cover to carry on thinking away from Lupin's gaze that seemed to read his inner thoughts and feelings more clearly than any Legilimens ever could.

"Do you ever think about our child, Severus?" Lupin said softly, as he stroked Snape's hair.

"I do. Probably more than I should as we don't know when the Dark Lord will fall."

"He will fall, so we can think on it," Lupin said confidently.

"I worry if I think too much, it will never happen for us," Snape confessed, knowing how much their hopes for a future together meant to both of them.

"How do we get through this if we can't dream for fear of jinxing ourselves? I don't believe in that, Severus. Tell me what you think."

"I wonder if we don't choose, whether it will be a boy or a girl."

"You would prefer to choose?"

"I suppose we need a potion anyway. I could always add another election to it."

"A boy," Lupin said definitely. "A son."

Snape nodded. "Who looks like you."

"What if I want him to look like you?"

"Why would you condemn your son to a life time of jibes about the size of his nose exactly?" Snape snorted.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Severus ..."

"But _easier_ to be conventionally handsome. I want him to look like you," Snape said firmly.

"But without Lycanthropy."

"Clearly. But with your kindness, gentleness, intelligence, magic ..."

"Kindness and gentleness will come from the love we will show him as parents. Intelligence – well, you're hardly lacking in that department." Lupin lay back, with his hands behind his head, as if conjuring the boy in his mind. "I rather hope he will be a potions prodigy like his father. I see him in the cellar with his _My First Potions Set_ , set up next to his dad, who is not at all impatient with him." Lupin said, in a teasing voice, nudging Snape slightly. "And as for magic – well, Severus, you do have rather powerful magic."

"Somewhat Dark for our son, don't you think?" Snape said, now on his side, resting his head on his hand to watch Lupin daydream.

"But your magic wasn't always, I'm sure, and I think mine is only so strong because my Lycanthropy strengthened it."

"Possibly. We don't know, but your intelligence in using it is quite human though."

"We have plenty of time to debate it." Lupin moved closer, and laid his hand softly on Snape's shoulder. Then he looked into Snape's eyes, with a cheeky smile. "Will he be allowed to be athletic if he's so inclined, or is that too Gryffindor?"

"Our son will not be a Gryffindor," Snape said with finality. Lupin started to protest but Snape interrupted, "Or a Slytherin. He will be a Ravenclaw because he will be a clever mixture of the both of us."

"I was nearly a Ravenclaw," Lupin said, looking off to the middle distance. Snape started, quite visibly, and he felt his stomach flutter, not particularly comfortably. "That's right. The Hat wanted to put me there, but it said, as I would always have to have the heart of a lion to get past my curse, my House should be Gryffindor." Lupin turned to look at Snape. "What's wrong, Severus?"

"Nothing, really," Snape said briskly, unaware his confusion showed on his face. "So was I," he said softly, "but I begged to be put in Slytherin, where my mother expected me to go."

"There it is then! It must be Ravenclaw – our own history demands it." Lupin gave Snape a knowing look. "Merlin help him if he's not, I suppose."

"Merlin help him indeed, because the only other choice would then be Hufflepuff ... and that would never do."

"I've met some intelligent Hufflepuffs, courageous ones, even one who hears Wandsong! I hope our son can be whatever he wants to be – even a Quidditch professional, if that's what he wants!"

"Whatever he wants, Remus. I promise we will not ruin his life with all the prejudice that's ruined ours. If that's what he wishes, then as I recall his godfather-elect was no mean show at Quidditch, whilst not as good as his best friend – I'm sure he'll see to his flying lessons ..." Snape said, gruffly with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Lupin gasped and his eyes widened and brightened as he understood the import of Snape's throwaway comment and leant over Snape.

"Thank you, Severus," Lupin said softly, stroking his brow with the gentlest of touches and brushing his lips with a kiss like gossamer and holding Snape's eyes with his own, reading him, understanding him, and yet loving him just the same.

"I don't think I have ever been so happy," Lupin sighed.

So Lupin had made love to him in that gentle way of his that would devastate Snape so completely with its emotion as well as physicality. It was almost as if Lupin could draw Snape's very soul to the surface of his body just so he could caress it and love it. It would always leave Snape in a state of indescribably perfect contentment. How could he ever deny this man anything? Even if it was Black.

He had awoken to the early morning sky, its grey light leaking through the grimy window of Grimmauld Place. Lupin lay next to him, one arm and one leg thrown across Snape's body. He smiled gently to see the way Lupin's head rested on Snape's shoulder, his face towards him, and Snape softly played with a lock of Lupin's hair.

Ravenclaw.

 _Oh the irony of it_ , Snape thought now. Now at four in the morning, when the brain could run wild with no cares of the day to occupy it.

So desperate had he been to be accepted into the pureblood House of his mother, he had begged – no - demanded that the Hat put him in Slytherin.

" _You've certainly got the ambition to be in Slytherin, oh yes, and the cunning," the Sorting Hat said. "But Ravenclaw is the place to hone your considerable mind and sharpen your wits. There are other paths to greatness, you know ... other forms of power ..."_

" _I need to be in Slytherin. Make it Slytherin!" young Severus demanded._

Slytherin: where so much had gone so very wrong for him, and fixed the path his father had put him on. Imagine if he had been sorted into Ravenclaw. He wondered how different his life might have been.

Lily. _Oh Lily._ He never would have become so entrenched in those ideals that hurt Lily so much. They would have stayed friends. Perhaps, in Ravenclaw, he would have made other friends who wouldn't have been constantly demanding he drop his Muggle-born friend, straining at their friendship all the time. Perhaps they'd have become more than friends. The thought stumped him for the first time. No, no, that wasn't who he was, even then. Lily had been everything to him – she was all he had. But they probably wouldn't have been more than friends. Potter would have come along eventually and ...

Potter, Black – no first argument on the Hogwarts Express and from thereon in forever after on sight. The Marauders rarely ever picked on Ravenclaws, he remembered. Potter just would have been a Quidditch idiot going out with Snape's friend. He probably would have sneered at her choice, but lived with it, looking down his Ravenclaw nose with amused condescension.

Lupin. Lupin in Ravenclaw with him. Would they have become friends? Study partners? Studying advanced Transfiguration and Charms together; maybe Runes and Arithmancy. Snape could almost picture them both, studying by the Lake. In his mind's eye, he saw them both in their Ravenclaw colours. In his mind's eye, he was no longer twitchy with the reflexes of fear or cold and unpleasant in self-defence. He stood tall with his friend. His special friend.

Maybe – just maybe he would have been Lupin's first lover, like the Ravenclaw boy Lupin had told him about, and Lupin his, instead of being 'broken in' by bloody Lucius Malfoy. Lupin told him that his first time was a fumbling disaster. It wouldn't have mattered to Snape if it had been; it would have been wonderful compared ... compared with ...

He looked at Lupin's sleeping face again to chase the painful recollection away. He remembered adolescent Lupin, overlaying the unlined features and longer, lighter brown hair, not yet streaked with grey, over the sleeping man – imagining waking to such a sight when he was young: how fine that must have been for that Ravenclaw boy, he thought jealously.

He never would have had his head filled with foul mutterings of Mudbloods, half-bloods and half-breeds. Well, perhaps he wouldn't. Ravenclaws weren't always fair-minded or kind, after all. But he wouldn't have cared about Lupin's werewolfism, he was sure, because they would have talked and he would have found out from Lupin himself. And Snape would have become the greatest Potioneer ever, and found a cure! _Idiot Severus!_ he told himself. At least, he would have ensured Lupin always had Wolfsbane, and not suffered years of neglect.

Perhaps, they would have double-dated with Lily and Potter. The smile on his lips now was twisted between disbelief and amusement. No, the thought was quite appalling, but appealing in equal measure – not to have been excised from her life – still the very best of friends. To have had both of his loves in his life at one time. Well, that would have been the greatest treasure.

He never would have been Dark Marked. Never been in the service of the Dark Lord. He never would have heard the Prophecy. Lily would be alive. Alive today with her husband and family, just as he wanted to be alive with his.

And all because he chose wrongly ...

He held Lupin closer, and closed his eyes, but knew there would be no more sleep tonight.

 

oooOOOooo

Whilst the fifth formers and seventh formers were taking their OWLs and NEWTs, those particular years seemed to forget that the life of the rest of the school carried on regardless. Lessons had to be prepared and taught, homework marked, detentions supervised and, in Snape's case, Potions brewed.

Snape added the barberry thorns to the Restorative Potion and watched and timed it and then gave it one quarter stir on the application of a dram of firethorn berry juice and lacewing flies until it turned bright blue. He extinguished the flame and replaced the lid to let it steep. Poppy had wiped out his store of this potion on Montague. It was certainly taking a great deal of time to restore Montague's wits to him. Snape wondered just what Montague had experienced between the Vanishing cabinet and the toilet to cause such a mental fracture. He had just begun to clear up when Malfoy came speeding into the classroom.

"What's ... your hurry, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape said coolly. "You know better than to run in a classroom full of potions equipment." Malfoy skidded to a halt.

"Sorry, sir. It's Professor Umbridge, sir," Malfoy said excitedly, his eyes alight.

Snape narrowed his eyes. This could not be good news.

 

oooOOOooo

**Malfoy** went into Umbridge's office first, **holding open the door for Snape.**

' **You wanted me, Headmistress?' said Snape, looking around at all the pairs of struggling students**. Miss Bulstrode had Miss Granger pinned against the wall, several of his House were gripping Weasley and his sister and Miss Lovegood and Longbottom was held in a strangehold by Crabbe. He schooled his **expression** to be one of **complete indifference.**

' **Ah, Professor Snape,' said Umbridge,** her ugly smile wide. **'Yes, I would like another bottle of Veritaserum, as quick as you can please.'** ( _Am I a house-elf,_ sneered Snape, _to be told 'as quick as you please'? Well, I do not please.)_

' **You took my last bottle to interrogate Potter,' he said, observing her coolly. 'Surely you did not use it all? I told you that three drops would be sufficient.'**

**Umbridge flushed.**

' **You can make some more, can't you?' she said, her voice becoming more sweetly girlish as it always did when she was furious.**

' **Certainly,' said Snape, his lip curling. 'It takes a full moon-cycle to mature, so I should have it ready for you in around a month.'**

' **A month,' squawked Umbridge, swelling toadishly. 'A _month_? But I need it this evening, Snape! I have just found Potter using my fire to communicate with person or persons unknown!'**

' **Really?' said Snape,** tamping down any **sign of interest as he looked round at** Potter, although his instincts told him he very much wanted to know what the boy might be up to now **. 'Well, it doesn't surprise me. Potter has never shown much inclination to follow school rules.'**

 **His eyes bor** ed **into** Potter **'s, who met his gaze unflinchingly,** Potter clearly **concentrating hard on** letting - no - **willing Snape to** see **...**

' **I wish to interrogate him!' shouted Umbridge angrily,** breaking his concentration **and** making **Snape** break the visual connection **. 'I wish you to provide me with a potion that will force him to tell me the truth!'**

' **I have already told you,' said Snape smoothly, 'that I have no further stocks of Veritaserum. Unless you wish to poison Potter – and I assure you I would have the greatest sympathy with you if you did – I cannot help you. The only trouble is that most venoms act too fast to give the victim much time for truth-telling.'**

 **Snape looked back at** Potter **, who stared at him,** clearly willing him to see. _But see what? The Department of Mysteries again. Another dream?_ He needed his wand to direct this, Potter's message was unclear. _Just … who …?_

' **You are on probation!' shrieked Professor Umbridge, and Snape** snapped his attention **back at her.** _Damn harridan!_ **'You are being deliberately unhelpful! I expected better, Lucius Malfoy always speaks most highly of you! Now get out of my office!'**

 **Snape gave her an ironic bow and turned to leave** wondering what his next move would be – how to extract Potter from … **.**

' **He's got Padfoot!'** Potter **shouted. 'He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden!'**

Ah. _But how is that possible?_

**Snape stopped with his hand on Umbridge's door handle.**

' **Padfoot?' cried Umbridge. 'What is Padfoot? Where is it hidden? What does he mean, Snape?'**

 **Snape looked round at** Potter and saw the desperation in the boy's face. He knew h **is face was inscrutable** but surely the boy understood that he could no more **speak plainly in front of Umbridge** than Potter himself could **.**

' **I have no idea,' said Snape coldly. 'Potter, when I want nonsense shouted at me I shall give you a Babbling Beverage. And Crabbe, loosen your hold a little. If Longbottom suffocates it will mean a lot of tedious paperwork and I am afraid I shall have to mention it on your reference if ever you apply for a job."**

 **He closed the door behind him with a snap** and swiftly made his way back to the dungeons and to his quarters, to the small mirror by his bed.

"Remus! Remus! Are you there?"

"Severus! What's the matter?" Lupin called back, appearing in his mirror.

"Is Black with you?" Snape said urgently

"Yes, of course." Lupin looked bemused.

"Are you sure? Potter thinks the Dark Lord has him."

"What? He's here, I promise you. He's up with Buckbeak."

"Check, will you?"

"Of course."

He heard the door of Lupin's bedroom open and Lupin call for Black up the stairs ... and Black call back.

"He's definitely there. What's going on, Severus?"

"Stay put. Make sure Black stays put, no matter what."

"What's going on?"

"Just make sure Black doesn't leave, and send for Albus – I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

Merlin knew how he was going to let the idiot boy know he was wrong. He was sure he'd come up with something and he made his way back to the Defence classroom. But he was stopped in his tracks by the sight of Potter, Miss Granger and Umbridge marching out of the Entrance Hall. He watched them make their way to the forest.

Well, he couldn't wait by the main entrance without looking suspicious so he cast a charm to alert him to Potter's return. He waited, pacing his drawing room, and he waited. Eventually, he started to become agitated. He should have followed them. It had been over an hour and Umbridge was no protector in the Dark Forest. He stood suddenly stock still. He knew at that point with pinpoint certainty: the boy was still convinced Black was in the Dark Lord's hands and whatever the trip to the Dark Forest had meant, it had been a ruse to escape Umbridge. _What a fool I've been,_ he cursed himself. He swept back to the bedroom and called Lupin again.

"Severus. Yes. I've been waiting for you to call back. What's going on?" Then Lupin turned over his shoulder. "It's Severus. I think something's wrong." Lupin was joined by Black and Lupin enlarged the mirror so all could speak.

"Potter received a vision of you, Black, as a captive of the Dark Lord. That's why I called Remus earlier to check where you were."

"But that was ages ago!" Black burst out. "What's happened now?"

"Potter went with the Headmistress to the Forbidden Forest. I've been waiting for him to come back to tell him you're where you should be." Black inhaled sharply with offence. "Safe, is what I meant Black," Snape corrected in a cold tone. "Now they've been away too long and I wonder if Potter had tricked Umbridge." Snape turned to look at Lupin. "I'm going to search the Forest but you need to go to the Department of Mysteries to check. Is anyone else available to help?

"Moody, Kingsley and Tonks are in the kitchen. Albus arranged to meet us here. We'll go," Black said hurriedly.

"Black! You cannot go. Wait there for Albus," Snape commanded.

"You can't expect me to wait behind while everyone else looks for my godson, Snape! Don't you dare tell me to wait behind like a mummy's boy!" In that instant, all the old animosity was back as Black's grey eyes blazed in sudden anger and, Snape also saw, in fear.

"No-one's accusing you of that," Lupin said quickly.

"You cannot go to the Ministry of Magic! You'll be seen! Then what good will you be to your godson?" Snape said forcefully at the same time.

Black glared at Snape as Lupin watched the two of them.

"I could no more not go to Harry than you not go to Remus," Black said quietly, locking eyes with Snape. Snape saw the resolve. He understood it.

"But who will wait for Albus? He must be told," Snape blurted as a last resort to try to keep Black there.

Black's steely resolve did not waver. "There'll be someone here for him."

 

* * *

**A/N:** **For those who follow "Old Friend" - chapters 2 and 3 of that story take place before our next chapter when some of our friends in this story visit the Department of Mysteries.**


	73. The Dark Lord Denied

No sign. There was no sign.

Snape had searched for ages, casting revealing and direction spells. Nothing, nothing at all.

Of course, he hadn't gone to the centre of the forest. No-one went there but Hagrid and Dumbledore – where the Agromantulas were. And the centaurs.

But he was deep in already. As deep as ever he came when he used to escape from his House mates. But he had never been further than this. His tracking spells had led him here. There were traces of a scuffle on the forest floor. Centaurs' arrows. His lips pursed – that didn't bode well. Giant footprints. Not just hyperbole for large, but larger even than Hagrid's. He held his wand high looking for other signs. Broken branches, high in the trees. He didn't know what the meaning of it all could be. He saw the centaurs' hoof prints leading deeper into the forest. He cast again, but this time, he saw two sets of foot prints away from this scene. He followed them, and found them joined by other foot prints – leading to - what were these? Not centaur hoof prints, hoof prints coming to a point at the centre of the curve – Thestrals.

No! He looked around again and followed the Thestral hoof prints, squatting to trace the prints in the dirt of the forest floor as he felt his stomach sinking – these were running tracks – running prior to taking flight – six of them. He closed his eyes slowly – six children held in Umbridge's office. They'd taken the Thestrals to fly to the Ministry.

How long had they been gone? He swore loudly, cursing the boy's idiocy, kicking the dirt up and started to stride back towards the castle.

The Dark Mark burned. It blazed furiously.

Snape fell to his hands and knees with the sudden viciousness of the burn, his eyes went wide and watered as he gasped, "No!"

The blaze of the burn told him: it was either triumph or fury. He turned his head, screwing his eyes shut to summon the strength to stand, but the burning blaze pulsed on and on, flaming his arm. Snape knew then.

Fury.

oooOOOooo

He Apparated once more to the dining room at Malfoy Manor, and to the sights and sounds of Bellatrix under the _Cruciatus_ curse, turning in the air. At the outskirts of the room, Travers, Wilkes Pettigrew, Narcissa, Miles, Courtney and Markham cowered, each trembling from post- _Cruciatus_ tremens. Snape Occluded deeply to try to still the rushing of blood in his veins as his heart hammered uncomfortably hard.

"You have failed me!" the Dark Lord spat. "All have failed me!" His voice began to rise, his temper unrestrained as he began to shriek at the woman writhing in the air. "I bring the boy to you, and twelve of my most trusted lieutenants are unable to subdue six children! Now the Prophecy is destroyed! How do I find out how to defeat the boy now?"

The Dark Lord had failed. Snape felt a small thrill of triumph but squashed it. He knew he'd been summoned as another scapegoat for the Dark Lord's fury. He felt it in the summons that was still pulsing through his arm. Wherever the others currently were, their forearms would now feel as if they were being roasted on an open spit. There would be no relief for them: whilst the Dark Lord remained incandescent, their Dark Marks would incandesce, attuned to his will.

The Dark Lord ceased his spell and Bellatrix fell heavily to the floor, panting and burbling as she begged for mercy.

"But my Lord," she gasped, "the Order of the Phoenix ..."

"... Arrived later, Bellatrix! And only four of them! You still should have managed to despatch more than just one! Do not try to deceive me! CRUCIO!" The Dark Lord twisted his body to give more force to the curse.

Snape's blood froze. _Who?_ Who had Bellatrix killed? The nauseating freezing sensation crawled under his skin. He had no way to ask that wouldn't look unnatural. He would have to wait – bide his time. That too was torture.

Snape stood, still like a rock, watching Bellatrix twist in re-applied bursts of torture, her face a strained mask of agony until the Dark Lord tired of it and, as he had done with Snape before, flung her twitching, convulsing body away from him.

The Dark Lord stood panting, his fury not yet spent. Snape readied himself as much as he was able as the Dark Lord spun sinuously towards him.

"My Lord! What has happened? I … I had no summons my Lord!" Snape exclaimed, as if sorry to have missed whatever mission had happened.

"Severus! I did not call you. I wanted you blameless. Fool that I was to trust these," he scowled at Bellatrix's barely conscious body, "these – idiots – no better than Squibs! Take her out of my sight!" the Dark Lord barked at Narcissa. She inched towards her sister, too terrified to draw attention to herself and Snape saw her face was drawn, her hair and clothes dishevelled as he'd never seen her. He saw the pulse of the _Cruciatus_ chase across her hands revealing that she, too, had been tortured, albeit briefly as she Levitated her sister as quickly as she was able from the room to the door held open by Pettigrew, his skin also jumping and twitching – except for the silver of his magical hand.

"All of you, OUT!" the Dark Lord yelled, "except ... Severus."

When they were alone, the Dark Lord breathed as if meditating, then he turned to Snape and placed one hand on his shoulder, a confidential action as if they were - friends. Tonight - Snape was favoured. The Dark Lord spoke slowly.

"I planted a vision of the blood-traitor and animagus Black being tortured in the Prophecy Room for Harry Potter. He took the bait precisely according to my plan. A plan of meticulous detail, Severus, right down to ensuring that Black's house-elf was there to ensure the boy could not find out that Black was safe in his mother's house after all …"

_Kreacher!_ Snape thought. _That's why Potter was distraught. He's been told Black had already gone._

"… Harry Potter took the bait. Of course he did! Weak, pathetically heroic child," the Dark Lord spat with clear disgust. "He and five of his little school friends mounted a _rescue mission_." The Dark Lord was sneering now. "He went, exactly as I directed, and retrieved the Prophecy. Twelve of my Death Eaters were there to retrieve it from him …"

The Dark Lord paced, his magic reverberating menacingly, staring at the floor as if the answer could be found there. The monstrous snake hissed loudly from its coil near the grand stone fireplace.

"… Twelve, Severus! Count them: Lucius, Bellatrix, Rodolphus, Rabastan, Dolohov, Avery, Macnair, Crabbe, Nott, Rookwood, Jugson and Mulciber!" the Dark Lord enumerated, counting each off on his long fingers. "Six children _duelled_ my Death Eaters," the Dark Lord emphasised the word as if the very idea were unthinkable. "Oh, there were some minor injuries to them, but the Prophecy was smashed. It is gone!" He swiped his hand in a gesture of fury.

Snape had to speak, had to try to calm the Dark Lord, deflect him from the explosion of temper that was building – that could kill Snape if it were unleashed full force.

"Had I known, my Lord, I could have assisted in the endeavour. Broken my cover to follow him … I would not have failed you, my Lord," Snape said, bowing low.

"You are a good and faithful servant, Severus. I understand I ask much of you to remain in such a place, pandering to such a weak old man and his so-called Order of half-bloods and blood traitors and half-breeds. It must be … sickening when you would rather be at my side."

Snape acknowledged and kept his bow low, feeling the reverberation begin to recede and be restrained as the Dark Lord's pacing began to slow, measure by measure. When Snape judged the Dark Lord had calmed enough, he asked, "My Lord? Which Order member has been disposed of?" He felt his heart flutter weakly and his stomach roil. _Dear Merlin, don't let it be Remus, don't let it be Remus, don't let it be Remus ..._

"The animagus. Knocked through the Veil by Bellatrix. Death – without dying," the Dark Lord smiled unpleasantly, stretching the scaly white skin over the bones of his flat visage. "Poetic, is it not? You must be pleased, Severus. You loathed him so, did you not?"

He did not hide his body's release of tension from the Dark Lord, but he Occluded his deep, deep relief - no, joy - that it was not Lupin that was killed. He did not know if Lupin was hurt but would need to bide his time to ask the question. But he did know that Lupin would be heartbroken, but at least, he was with friends. Snape found it was not within him to mourn for Black, no matter what tentative steps towards accommodation they had made – his relief that Lupin had not been taken from him was too enormous. He struggled to maintain his cold, efficient demeanour, but schooled himself. Let the madman think Snape rejoiced. It mattered not.

"My Lord, you could not have told me more welcome news. Had your own loss not been so egregious, it would have been a triumph for our cause."

"You are correct, Severus. As always," the Dark Lord sighed. "In more ways than you know. I .. _I …_ had to rescue Bellatrix," the Dark Lord stabbed at his chest. "I had to go to the Department of Mysteries when I realised they had been too long and it must be going wrong. And now, my rebirth has been confirmed by the sightings of me. I had wished for more time to prepare … perfect my weapons. I have not perfected enough." The Dark Lord inhaled deeply, fuelling his anger. "Fudge cannot now continue to deny the evidence of his own eyes or those officials who were with him. The others are …" the Dark Lord sneered hideously, "incarcerated. I will call away the Dementors from Azkaban, but not until my Death Eaters have learnt their lesson. I will have to make a stand, Severus. I will need to establish my authority as quickly as possible. Key people must be removed. A spectacle of power must be arranged. We need to achieve as much as possible in a short space of time between us. Perhaps, a hospital. An orphanage." The Dark Lord's crimson eyes darkened with malice.

"If I may make the suggestion, my Lord. There are some…" Snape did his best to sound as if he could not possibly understand that point of view, "who may find such targets … untenable. Might I suggest a structure – to be symbolic – an exhibition of destructive power rather than mass deaths of Muggles – at least until your recruitment proceeds apace." He bowed again.

"Wise advice, Severus. After all, we have a better plan for the demise of Muggles, do we not?" The Dark Lord turned to him and his head inclined in enquiry. "My potion, Severus. I trust it progresses well and that I will not find you ... wanting."

Snape felt his throat dry out. Mass deaths were what the Dark Lord desired. He would not be deflected as Snape had hoped. Snape felt the Dark Lord's magic charge.

oooOOOooo

Snape staggered through the Floo at Grimmauld Place. He should have gone to Poppy straight away, but he wanted to find Lupin. He knew he must be devastated. He should be with him.

The house was eerily silent. Snape didn't think he had ever heard it so ... still. He felt sure that nothing was alive in this place, but he had to check.

Snape stood at the foot of the stairs, a shaking hand on the newell post, one foot on the first tread. He looked up the staircase, fearful of what he would find. He cast _Remus Lupin Revelio._ He was not there.

He stood for a while. Where could he be? Injured? St. Mungo's?

" _Accio_ enchanted mirror!"

Nothing came. Lupin must have it with him.

Snape had no time to waste looking there, if he wasn't there. He needed to get back to the dungeons to find the mirror, find Lupin, find Dumbledore. He left by the front door and Disapparated to the edge of the wards of Hogwarts.

He rushed back to the dungeons and unlocked the wards to push open the heavy door, straight into Lupin's waiting arms.

_Thank Merlin._

oooOOOooo

Lupin held Snape at arm's length, staring at him, his eyes glassy and unfocused. Snape's eyes darted to the table and an open bottle of Firewhiskey and understood. He had no idea how long Lupin had been here in his room, but Snape knew he'd been with the Dark Lord for hours and Lupin had drunk an obscene amount of alcohol and his swaying body and bloodshot eyes showed it.

"You've been with him? And her, the murdering bitch?" Lupin spat as he swayed.

"I was called, yes," Snape said, watching Lupin carefully. He'd never seen Lupin as anything other than a happy drunk. This was different. Understandable, but worryingly different.

"Are the others here? Kingsley? Moody? Tonks?" Snape asked.

"St. Mungo's. Got injured," Lupin said, his eyes narrowing. Snape nodded.

"Remus," said Snape softly, "I'm sorry about ..."

"Are you?" Lupin swayed, still holding Snape's arms. "Or is it quite convenient? Won't have to put up with me badgering you to accept him anymore now ..."

"No, Remus, that's not true," Snape said quickly, but keeping his voice quiet.

Lupin stumbled away from Snape, waving at him dismissively, and then fell heavily onto the settee.

Snape sat on the settee carefully, trying not to crowd Lupin.

"Remus. I know ..."

"You have no idea!" Lupin suddenly burst out. "When did you ever allow yourself to care for anyone before to know?"

"You mean apart from you?" Snape asked, his heart suddenly full of pain at the hateful look on Lupin's face.

Lupin stared and then blinked. "Friends, I mean friends! You don't know what _this_ feels like – again. To feel it for him twice."

What could Snape say? He wanted to yell at Lupin that he knew damn well. His heart had broken the same night as Lupin's had. His one and true friend had died with Lupin's, protecting that boy. That boy whom he was under a geas to protect but who refused to be protected; refused to trust anyone, even though it had now cost the life of his godfather.

"This time," Lupin said, his voice starting to tremble, "there's no mistake – no "not really dead" as it was with little Peter – it's all a dreadful mistake and there he is, back again. Now it's all really true. I saw it with my own eyes." Lupin voice broke. "All my friends are dead except the one who's a traitor responsible for it all. It's like having that wound ripped open again, Sev'rus." Lupin's head fell back as a huge sob lurched from him. "I don't know how to make you understand."

Lupin hadn't said it to be cruel, Snape knew, but it cut deeply that Lupin thought he didn't understand his grief; it cut deeply that Snape could never confess how much he understood. It cut that he could not take this pain from his beloved: this pain that tore at Lupin's emotions. But Snape did know, and he wasn't going to allow Lupin to drive him away in his irrational grief, made so much worse by drink.

"Remus," Snape said gently, "tell me, if you want."

Lupin looked at Snape, his eyes glassy and unfocused and waved his hand in an unco-ordinated dismissive wave again.

"No point," he muttered. "No point to anything. Just get hurt anyway," he slurred.

Snape moved so that he was next to Lupin and he placed a gentle hand on his knee.

Lupin grabbed Snape's head and kissed him hard and messily, the stench of alcohol strong and sickly, then grasped at his body.

"Come to bed. Let's fuck," Lupin drawled, his eyes barely focusing properly.

"No!" Snape said, horrified, then he calmed himself. "No, Remus, talk to me instead."

Lupin grabbed his wrist and pulled him roughly into the bedroom.

"Come on, Sev'rus. Why don't you just fuck me? Make me feel better."

He started to grapple with Snape's robe, too incompetent through drink to use magic as he usually would and he fumbled with the buttons, becoming increasing agitated. Finally, Lupin managed to summon the spell to undo the buttons and pulled the robe off Snape and he started yanking at Snape's shirt.

"Stop that, Remus," Snape said quietly as he pushed Lupin's hands away repeatedly, feeling slightly sick that Lupin thought that this would be what Snape would want, that he would want to hear that coarse language from Lupin's mouth, his dear, sweet mouth.

"C'mon Sev'rus! You know you like to fuck me. You don't have to take your clothes off if you don't want to but I do." Swaying still, he managed to undress himself, nearly falling over when he pulled his boots off.

"Remus, stop this please," Snape kept repeating as he tried to still Lupin's hands with his own.

"I don't want to stop, Sev'rus. I want you to fuck me! COME - ON!" Lupin fell against the bed, pulling Snape with him so he was on top of Lupin's naked body. Lupin writhed underneath him as if it would in some way turn Snape on. But it didn't. Snape found himself repulsed, even though he knew it was the combustible combination of grief and booze. He grappled with Lupin's fumbling searching hands, until his temper broke.

"STOP THAT!" Snape shouted and held Lupin's wrists fast above his head and pinned Lupin's body with his own.

He did know how this felt. He knew **_exactly_** how this felt. It was how he felt when he ended up on all fours before some brute of a Muggle he'd picked up in a rough East End bar a week after Lily had died. He'd done it partly to punish himself in the most intimate way possible, humiliating and disgusting himself, but also – to prove that he could still feel something - anything - through the bruising grief that had consumed him.

He knew exactly what this was. And he would not bruise his husband in his grief, no matter how much Lupin thought he wanted it or needed it – that it was in some way exculpatory. He didn't – it wasn't - and Snape would not give it to him.

Holding Lupin's wrists, Lupin's body still bucking under him as tears of frustration and caustic grief rolled down the sides of Lupin's face, Snape pressed against him to try to still him, their faces no more than an inch apart.

"No, no, no, no," Snape whispered into Lupin's mouth. "Beloved, no." Still, Lupin bucked underneath him, in a sad and hopeless, frustrated attempt at harshness that Snape refused to allow. Snape would not reinforce the bleak, savage desolation that Lupin was experiencing.

"No, no, no ..." Snape whispered repeatedly as Lupin gradually stopped moving underneath him. "Stop now and hush." Snape's voice was a mesmeric murmur, soothing Lupin's soul. "Shush," he crooned quietly, loosening his hold on Lupin's wrists gradually, as Lupin's sobbing became more evenly spaced – slowly, slowly his breath easing as Snape continued to soothe him with his voice, still holding him, gradually moving his hands from Lupin's wrists, bringing Lupin's arms down to his sides, so Snape could bring his own arms over them and hold Lupin's shoulders.

"Remus, beloved," Snape said softly, listening to the soft keening in Lupin's throat that became heart-rending raw sobs torn from his throat, understanding what they meant.

Irreplaceable loss.

Loss that would never be filled.

Hollowness that ached with remembrance.

All this.

And worse.

Snape knew. He remembered.

Snape held Lupin close, fingers spread over the face of the head that now leaned into his chest as Lupin curled himself around Snape, grasping him to himself for comfort as he howled in pain.

Hope destroyed.

The howling of a broken heart.

An old grief, now fresh and glinting sharp.

Snape held him still, as Lupin wept a seemingly endless stream of the bitterest of tears, the rawest of sobs, rocking him slowly as he summoned a sleeping draught.

"Take this, my love, you need to sleep," Snape said gently, lifting Lupin's head to drink the potion. Lupin drank it through his hitching breath, holding Snape's hands as he did so. Snape watched as the Potion began to draw Lupin's eyes closed and fog his brain.

"I played the best prank, Sev'rus, and I wanted to tell ... P-Padfoot." Lupin's tormented eyes searched Snape's own as he whispered, his voice broken with crying and slurred and only just coherent with the drink but now mainly with the Potion. "I pranked Malfoy. I wanted to tell Sirius. I used that spell on Malfoy. You should have seen his face. I wanted to tell him ... God, he would have ... would have ... laughed." Lupin drifted off into drug-induced sleep, as Snape smoothed his hair, wishing he could have saved the mutt's life just to remove that pain from Lupin's eyes.

Finally, he heard the soft regular sounds of sleep as Lupin's body became heavy against him. He gently disentangled himself from Lupin's arms and legs, and left the bedroom.

He threw the Floo powder into the fire and asked Poppy to come through.

"I have five injured students, Severus," Poppy said, not unkindly. "Are you able to wait or come through?"

Snape allowed himself a small, bitter smile. Now Lupin was safely asleep, he was freshly aware of his pain. Surely, Poppy knew by now that he always healed himself if he was able.

"No, Poppy, I don't believe I am," Snape said as stoically as he could.

"Of course, Severus." With that, Poppy spun through and stepped out smartly, her frown deepened as she took in his pale face and shirt soaked red and sticking to his back.

"Severus!" she gasped harshly. "Why didn't you come to me earlier? Did he keep you there like this?" she said, as she patted gently to see how badly the material was stuck to his flesh.

"I had something to attend to first," Snape replied obliquely. Snape saw Poppy's eyes dart to the bedroom where Lupin was sleeping, visible to the drawing room.

Poppy sighed. "I know what happened tonight." She sat him on a chair turned backwards so he could rest against the chair back, and she talked as she cast a charm that steamed his shirt, softening the dried blood so she could remove the shirt and then she dropped it on the floor. "I have five students in the hospital wing because his followers duelled them. Duelled children, Severus!" She huffed crossly then her face softened. "Remus and another Ministry official brought them here. I heard about Sirius." He heard her sharp intake of breath as she looked at his back.

"Oh Severus," she said quietly, a small squeeze to his upper arm. He felt the warmth of her healing spells as she cleansed and closed each long, deep slash left by the Dark Lord's Whipping Hex for his failure to perfect the Muggle-murdering poison. He let his head fall onto his arms as the relief of healing settled into his skin, Poppy working quietly and efficiently, hands deftly following the work of her dextrous wand until every wound had been sealed and healed.

"I suppose I don't need to ask you if you need a Pain-Relieving Potion?" she said, a small sad smile on her face.

"I won't take any, thank you, Poppy," Snape said, standing and stretching out his back. "I need to be awake in case ... well ... in case Remus wakes. I'll take the blood replenisher though."

Poppy nodded. "I'll apply a balm tomorrow." Then she looked again at the room. "Is he taking it very badly, poor lamb?"

_Poor lamb? A werewolf and the only Order member uninjured when hopelessly outnumbered by Death Eaters?_ Snape couldn't help it – sometimes, he found Poppy – well, women in general really – quite odd. But he said, "Yes, Poppy, very badly."

Poppy smiled sadly, her own eyes clearly stinging as she blinked quickly to dispel the tears.

"Please don't tell him of my injuries. It would only make him feel worse." Lupin could never know. Snape would never add to the pain Lupin felt this night.

"As you wish, dear," Poppy said quietly, reflexively smoothing down her apron once more.

"What injuries did the children have?" Snape asked.

"Ginevra Weasley had a broken ankle. Ronald Weasley has burns from magically disembodied brains and a rather long lasting _Confundus._ " Snape suspected he would be able to tell no difference between Ronald Weasley, with or without a _Confundus_ cast upon his person. _"_ Poor Neville Longbottom was tortured and his nose was broken - and his wand to boot." She shook her head reprovingly. "Luna Lovegood was Stunned, but there are no other injuries for her. Hermione Granger was cursed with a bone-crushing curse."

_Dolohov!_ Snape thought. His speciality curse – somehow deadened. It should have killed Granger outright. Snape wondered if she knew how lucky she was.

"I'll have my hands full brewing for that one then, won't I?" Snape said, nonchalantly, with one eyebrow raised.

"Indeed. Don't think it isn't appreciated, Severus," Poppy said, her tone now more business-like.

"And Potter?" Snape asked, feigning indifference.

"Just cuts and scratches. But, how he'll be in himself, caught in the middle of duel between Albus and You-Know-Who, and losing his godfather ... well, that's another matter, isn't it?"

Snape's face remained impassive, but his mind was in turmoil. Dumbledore and the Dark Lord duelling? He needed to see Dumbledore but he couldn't leave Lupin.

"Poppy, may I ask you to tell Albus I wish to see him, but I don't like to leave ...?" he gestured the bedroom.

"Of course, Severus." Poppy nodded. "Make sure you eat, won't you? You look completely drained."

Snape nodded. He didn't want to eat, or even see Dumbledore, but he needed to do both things. What he wanted was to crawl into bed with Lupin to be there when he awoke to the realisation that his friend was dead. He wanted to be with him every morning until Lupin could awaken without that realisation shattering his world anew every time he opened his eyes.

Snape recollected that feeling – all too well.

* * *


	74. Caring & Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes in bold from Chapter 37 of OotP are © J.K. Rowling

Snape and Dumbledore sat at Snape's small table with a tray of late breakfast that Dumbledore had sent for. Snape picked at some toast, occasionally speading it with sharp marmalade with a knife, although he was far more interested in his large mug of tea, knowing that Dumbledore watched every mouthful.

Snape watched Dumbledore too. Dumbledore tucked in quite happily to some devilled kidneys, making Snape's nostrils twitch with disgust, but Snape also saw how tired he looked, how very – beset. Neither had yet to sleep.

Snape had recounted his summoning in full and Dumbledore knew that Lupin slept a deeply medicated sleep in the room next door.

"What type of structure do you think Voldemort will go for, Severus?"

"I don't know," Snape sighed. "I was trying to think on my feet to prevent him targeting a high casualty building. He seemed far too keen on the prospect of a Muggle hospital or orphanage. I will try to find out before he takes any action. I dare say, I will be summoned more often now his rebirth is known and term finishes in a fortnight. I expect all action will now escalate sharply. He has no need for secrecy any longer. The only thing we have in our favour is that so many of his inner circle are incarcerated in Azkaban pending trial. And to be honest Albus, their loss isn't really _that_ much of an impediment to the Dark Lord."

The men ate in silence for a short while.

"I want Remus to stay here with me at least until term finishes, now you're Headmaster again," Snape said, his tone brooking no refusal.

Dumbledore regarded him over his half moon glasses, his expression grave, as he sipped his tea from a fragile china cup with violently colourful floral decoration.

"None of us can have too much time to rest, Severus. There is much work for everyone to do, including Remus's work with the packs. You know it is essential. And don't forget, members of the Order will wonder where Remus is. They'll be worried for him. Your cover is even more important to us now."

Snape let his knife clatter loudly on his plate feeling his hold on his tired and frayed temper slipping. "Give him time to grieve, Albus, for pity's sake! It's not even been a half a day. It's only two weeks until the end of term. Now you're back, this will be a safe place for him to stay. He can see the others from the Order when there are meetings, but I won't have you sending him to live on his own at Grimmauld Place!" Snape took a deep breath, and modulated his voice. "He won't cope with it, Albus."

"No, you're right. He can't return to Sirius's house. I'll be going to look for Sirius's will of course and I'd best take Hagrid with me so he can collect Buckbeak. If the house is bequeathed to one of his family, then Kreacher goes with it, and that would never do."

"It would be my pleasure to silence the duplicitous little beast permanently," Snape sneered.

"As appealing as revenge on an ill-used wretch such as that house-elf may seem, it would give you no pleasure in the long run, Severus."

"I'll be the judge of that, Albus. In any event, it would solve our potential problem, would it not?"

Dumbledore gave him a small sad smile. "Or perhaps just entrench the ideals behind it?"

Snape rolled his eyes.

"Just remember, Severus. Voldemort won't wait for Remus to have compassionate leave. You know that better than anyone," Dumbledore said, in that reasonable tone of voice that seemed to provoke Snape unduly.

"Let him rest, Albus, or he'll be no good for your missions, if you prefer to see it that way then," Snape huffed.

"Very well, Severus."

Snape glared at Dumbledore for the amused tone. He really had no time for these games. He was tired, his back was sore, he had a headache starting. He just wanted to have a shower and go to bed with Lupin. He dropped the half-eaten slice of toast he'd been playing with and pinched the bridge of his nose. But there was still so much to do, and he was so very tired.

He would need to set a potions brewing timetable for the ten potions Miss Granger would require. Dolohov, Snape mused. Never to be underestimated in battle – apparently his ruthlessness even extended to children. Then, he recalled another duty would need to be performed; one that would be quite unpleasant.

"Have Malfoy, Crabbe and Nott been told of the fate of their dearly beloved fathers?" Snape asked, wearily.

"No-one has come from the Auror Office as yet. I have suspended all owl deliveries to students at the request of Rufus until later this afternoon pending informing all involved. I suspect the information coming from you rather than the authorities would be appreciated, Severus, unless you prefer me to do it."

"No. I think in all the circumstances I would prefer to tell them. It will be expected of me to - ah - sympathise. Now tell me about your duel with the Dark Lord," Snape said, finally pushing his plate away.

"It is a thrilling tale," Dumbledore said lightly. "I'm sure I cannot do it justice as tired as we both are feeling."

"Nevertheless," Snape challenged, "you must tell me your account, for the Dark Lord must suppose, rightly or wrongly, that I am in your confidence," Snape rebuked. "If he suspects I am not, you understand that my life becomes worthless to him at that point."

"I stand corrected, Severus," Dumbledore said mildly. He recounted it all, from his arrival and rounding up the prisoners, the death of Sirius and Lupin pulling Potter away from throwing himself beyond the Veil, the duel with the Dark Lord, spell by spell, to the Dark Lord's possession of Potter to provoke Dumbledore to strike him down, to the Dark Lord's flight with Bellatrix once Fudge and the Aurors arrived. Snape listened in silence to every detail.

"Has the boy any after-effects of his possession?"

"No, he has been remarkably resilient." Dumbledore sighed heavily. "But I fear the loss of his godfather will hit him hard."

"Especially as he is to blame for it ..." Snape shot at Dumbledore.

"I hardly think that's called for, Severus," Dumbledore reproved.

"You are right. I apologise. _You_ are to blame for it." Snape folded his arms and stretched his legs out. "I warned you his Occlumency lessons would fail and they did fail, rather spectacularly. You would not speak to the boy or find him a teacher other than me. Had he been able to Occlude, his godfather would be alive and scratching his fleas as we speak." _That wiped that infernal twinkle from your eyes,_ Snape thought with a thrill of satisfaction, that wiped itself out on the instant he recalled Lupin in the room next door. He waved a hand in annoyance.

"There is little point going over this ground, Severus. I had hoped you could see past your school-boy grudge."

"Don't you _dare_ lay this at my door, Albus!" Snape said dangerously, leaning forward, his forefinger pointing at Dumbledore. He put his own hand down sharply, but his anger remained. "The child never, never wanted to close his mind, or learn those lessons. Just don't you dare!"

Dumbledore raised his chin and looked at Snape coolly. "I think it is unkind to accuse a child so bitterly, Severus, especially one who has **struggl** ed **under more burdens than any student who has ever passed through this school.'**

Snape stared at Dumbledore, scarcely giving credence to what he just heard, his fists hidden under the table and whitened with anger and recollection of old abuses. "Did I hear rightly? 'More burdens than any student who has ever passed through this school ...' Really? You overstate your defence in your favouritism of the child, Albus."

Dumbledore pressed his hand against his mouth as he regarded Snape. "You may think so, Severus. Perhaps you do not understand as I do."

"Perhaps, you would care to enlighten me – why Potter's burden is _so_ much greater than others?" Snape bit out.

"You know, Severus, that I cannot divulge all to you, especially as you continue to consolidate your position so well with Voldemort. If I did and Voldemort pries it from you, the battle last night, and the loss of Sirius, will have been for nothing."

Before Snape could respond, Dumbledore stood. "Thank you for breakfast, Severus. Or, perhaps, I should say: for brunch. We both have much to do. I've been reinstated to Chief Warlock on the Wizengamot, and I dare say the other positions will follow. At least, I can be at the forefront of opposition to Voldemort now. I have urgent correspondence to attend to. Letters I'd rather not write. More has been lost than just a godfather, Severus. Others had familial ties to Sirius too," Dumbledore said sadly.*

Snape was momentarily confused, but then he remembered Emmeline. She hadn't been at Grimmauld Place that night. Surely, she knew by now from other Order members although he didn't know that she could be classed as family. Dumbledore left by Floo.

Snape sat at his table, thinking, his mouth resting against the steeple of his hands. Dumbledore never failed to amaze Snape with his casual cruelty – Potter 'struggling with more burdens than any student who ever passed through this school'? Dumbledore had no right to denigrate other students' suffering in that manner. The man incensed him sometimes.

He stood quickly. He had no time for this. He had far too much to be getting on with.

He went to the bathroom and took a shower. He showered for as long as his back would bear, although it smarted uncomfortably. It only partially woke him up. He was desperately tired, but he would need a Pepper-Up Potion instead. He stood under the shower, his face upwards into the shower of water, letting it drum down on his face and body to try to invigorate himself. He scrubbed at his eyes and rinsed the shampoo from his hair, and then turned to leave the shower.

Lupin was standing at the bathroom door. He looked dreadful: his face almost translucent, his eyes reddened and puffy. His look at Snape was so sorrowful. Snape cursed inwardly. He had wanted to be with Lupin when he awoke. He must have spent longer with Dumbledore than he realised.

He got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around himself, going to Lupin carefully.

"Remus. You shouldn't be out of ..."

As Snape approached, Lupin slowly held out Snape's bloody shirt that he must have found on the floor, his face seeming to crumple as he looked from the garment to Snape and he stepped forward reaching one arm around Snape's neck to pull Snape to himself.

"I can't lose you too, Severus..." he said in a small voice, hoarse from that early morning's desperate crying. "I just can't." He started to weep softly again, holding Snape close as he slid onto his knees on the bathroom floor taking Snape with him and Snape held him close in turn, murmuring to reassure him – of what, he couldn't say.

How could he reassure him?

He knew this grief would carve open all old losses anew, sharpening them in Lupin's mind and in his heart.

He knew what Lupin felt now was fathomless desolation.

Snape remembered it.

Grief having no measure – how it felt there could be no end to the pain.

Indeed, there was no end; there was only learning to live with the loss.

Yes. Snape knew.

Snape held Lupin close there on the bathroom floor, unable to bring himself to tell Lupin just how much he understood. But he could be there for him. Hold him and keep him close. Murmur his gentle love to him.

When Lupin's tears began to wane, Snape tried to prise the bloody shirt gently from Lupin's white-knuckled grasp. Lupin's grip tightened.

"How badly did he hurt you?" Lupin whispered, his eyes searching Snape's once more.

"He was angry the Prophecy was lost," Snape said quietly. "But, with all the others you helped to capture depleting his ranks, I got off lightly." Snape smiled tightly, but his attempt at levity failed.

Lupin became more intense. "How badly?" he repeated.

"A Whipping Hex," Snape said eventually, uncomfortable about where this would lead. "Bad enough," he said quietly.

"So," Lupin said, his voice quivering, "I forced myself on you like some foul drunk while you were ... were ..." he broke off and looked down at the bloody shirt in his hand and fingered it with his other hand, his face etched with misery. "I hurt you," he finished feebly.

Snape pulled the shirt away and Vanished it.

"The Dark Lord hurt me, and no!" he said sharply as Lupin opened his mouth to speak, "you were in no fit state to understand what had happened and, no, I do not blame you." He exhaled as he looked at Lupin's wretched expression. "You were my first priority. Finding you safe. The rest could wait."

He kissed Lupin's forehead and helped him to a stool and ran him a bath, helping him in carefully and, kneeling at the side of the bath, washing him gently. Lupin never took his eyes from Snape.

"Will you let me apply the Healing Balm, Severus?" Lupin said softly.

"Of course," Snape said, his voice suddenly rough.

Snape washed Lupin's tear-stained face, remembering how he never wanted to see Lupin's face stained with the traces of tears. He found his own throat obstructed to see his own loved one grieve so.

"I'm so sorry, Severus," Lupin whispered, his voice still hoarse, "for the terrible things I said to you."

"It's no matter," said Snape, taken aback by the sudden sting of tears of his own. He concentrated on washing Lupin's neck and shoulders as if it were a complex task. Lupin grasped Snape's wrists and Snape looked into Lupin's shining, troubled eyes.

"I had no right to say them. No right to push at you like that. Please, Severus. Forgive me. Promise me you will not leave me."

Snape couldn't bear the hurt and fear he saw in those eyes, and heard in the tremor of that voice. If his husband had been anyone but Lupin, he might be able to tell him of his own loss of his most special and beloved friend and then his husband would know that Snape understood him perfectly. But he could not. Snape could never tell Lupin about Lily, because to tell him that would invite questions; questions meant explanations; explanations would cost him this love. Lupin would never forgive Snape for being the catalyst for it all – all of Lupin's grief. How could he? Lupin would cast Snape away from him. And Snape was sure that he couldn't live if he did.

Snape struggled against his own tears at the fear these thoughts provoked. Better to suffer those slights, spoken at the height of grief, than lose this love that Snape found so deep and redemptive. What were a few misguided insults to a man such as he, whose own father had loathed the very sight of him? How could Lupin even think Snape would leave him because of it? He swallowed hard. It hurt his throat.

"My own dear Remus," Snape said, trying to keep his voice strong – to sound strong for Lupin's sake. "There is nothing to forgive. And I will never leave you. I would die rather than leave you!"

Lupin pulled him into his arms and feathered kisses on his face and Snape could not stop his heart soaring or his stomach churning that he loved this man so, but could not just pluck the pain from him.

"Let's finish washing you, then I'll get you something to eat," he said, feeling it was the nadir of banality, but all there was to be said.

oooOOOooo

Snape had called the three boys to his office and told them to pull up chairs. This was enough to alert them that something was very wrong and they stole panicked glances at each other. The children of Death Eaters, Snape thought with sour amusement. Each pampered materially; loved without reservation or discipline; washed and mired in bigotry; craven and cowardly.

Their fathers' incarceration, dressed up by Snape as a devoted offering to the Dark Lord for which they should be justly proud, should be a harsh lesson for which their fathers' privileged and entitled tutelage had never prepared their pampered offspring, and one, Snape had no doubt, that would be rejected as not worth learning.

oooOOOooo

Snape folded over his copy of _The Sunday Prophet_ viciously and continued reading to Lupin, **_"It is with almost equal regret that we report the mass revolt of the Dementors of Azkaban, who have shown themselves averse to continuing in the Ministry's employ. The Dementors are currently taking direction from Lord – Thingy."_** Have you ever heard such nonsense, Remus? 'Shown themselves averse'! The language is ludicrous. 'Lord – Thingy'! Is he five? Fudge is a bloody moron," Snape sneered. He turned to look at Lupin, but he had curled himself under the covers again. Snape sighed. It had only been two days, he supposed, and Lupin, although he was becoming more talkative with each day, Snape was sure he was reliving it all – not just Black, but Potter and Lily too – probably even Pettigrew's betrayal. He would become very withdrawn for hours on end.

Well, Snape would make sure Lupin got the time he needed. He would not let Dumbledore throw Lupin out before he had mastered his grief _– throw him to the wolves_ , Snape thought sourly. Various members of the Order had asked after Lupin: Kingsley, David, Tonks, Moody, Diggle, but, in fairness, Dumbledore had deflected them and told them Lupin was resting at a safe house.

He kissed Lupin lightly on the forehead and left for his rounds. On a sunny day like today, there was bound to be trouble somewhere – if he looked.

He didn't need to look far. As he rounded the staircase up from his quarters into the Entrance Hall, he came across Potter with his wand levelled at Malfoy, who clearly had been too slow to draw, even though he was flanked by those two lummoxes, Goyle and Crabbe.

' **Potter!'** Snape shouted, before the boy did anything even more idiotic than he had already. Even this far from the child, he saw the **hatred** of himself in the child's eyes.

' **What are you doing, Potter?' said Snape, as he strode over to the four of them.**

' **I'm trying to decide what curse to use on Malfoy, sir,' said** Potter **fiercely.**

 **Snape stared at him** in disbelief.

' **Put that wand away at once,' he said curtly.** _Why had Potter no self control at all – had he really learnt nothing?_ **'Ten points from Gryff-'**

**Snape looked towards the giant hour-glasses on the walls and gave a sneering smile.**

' **Ah. I see there are no longer any points left in the Gryffindor hour-glass to take away. In that case, Potter, we will simply have to -'**

' **Add some more?'**

 **Professor McGonagall had just stumped up the stone steps into the castle; she was carrying a tartan carpetbag in one hand and leaning heavily on a walking stick with her other, but otherwise looked quite well** , Snape was pleased to see **.**

' **Professor McGonagall!' said Snape, striding forwards. 'Out of St. Mungo's, I see!'**

' **Yes, Professor Snape,' said Professor** **McGonagall** in her usual deadpan fashion, **shrugging off her travelling cloak, 'I'm quite as good as new. You two – Crabbe – Goyle - '**

**She beckoned them forwards imperiously and they came, shuffling their large feet and looking awkward.**

' **Here,' said Professor McGonagall, thrusting her carpetbag into Crabbe's chest and her cloak into Goyle's, 'take these up to my office for me.'**

**They turned and stumped away up the marble staircase.**

' **Right then,' said Professor McGonagall, looking up at the hour-glasses on the wall. 'Well, I think Potter and his friends ought to have fifty points apiece for alerting the world to the return of You-Know-Who! What do you say, Professor Snape?'**

' **What?' snapped Snape,** knowing what the dratted woman proposed to do: what Gryffindor professors always did. Still, he had to admit – but to himself only – Umbridge's point-taking had been beyond even his standards of unreasonableness **. 'Oh – well – I suppose ...'**

' **So that's fifty each for Potter, the two Weasleys, Longbottom and Miss Granger' said Professor McGonagall, and a hower of rubies fell down into the bottom bulb of Gryffindor's hour-glass as she spoke. 'Oh – and fifty for Miss Lovegood, I suppose,' she added, and a number of sapphires fell into Ravenclaw's glass. 'Now, you wanted to ten from Mr Potter, I think, Professor Snape – so there we are ...'**

**A few rubies retreated into the upper bulb, leaving a respectable below nevertheless.**

' **Well, Potter, Malfoy, I think you ought to be outside on a glorious day like this,' Professor McGonagall continued briskly.**

Potter clearly **did not need telling twice; he thrust his wand back inside his robes and headed straight for the front doors** and Malfoy stalked away in the opposite direction, glowering at both Snape and Minerva **.**

Snape watched Potter heading towards Hagrid's cabin as children waved at him, knowing that the self-same children had previously believed that he was as deranged as _The Daily Prophet_ had made out. The boy ignored them. Snape frowned. For the second time since Snape had known Harry Potter, he looked at that retreating figure, and saw how very small he was. It made him uncomfortable.

"You need eye contact to hex him, Severus."

Snape snapped out of his odd thought and looked to Minerva's sly smile.

"Come, Minerva," he said, to cover his discomfort, "let's get you settled back in."

"I want a full account, Severus, not the babbling rubbish I read in today's _Prophet_!" Minerva chided. _Why did women have to know everything?_

Snape scowled, and Minerva raised her eyebrow at him, Snape rolled his eyes but gave her a small smile. He'd put a fair few Galleons on it that Dolores Umbridge would not survive four Stunners to the chest. The trouble was: he doubted anyone would be foolish enough to take the bet – even though he'd be happy to volunteer to be the caster.

"Come, Severus. Let's follow your two students before they get lost without Mr Malfoy to shepherd them."

oooOOOooo

Slowly, very slowly, Lupin seemed to surface from his own mire of despair. He slept a great deal, as if finding refuge in oblivion. Snape hadn't pushed him – they talked when Lupin wanted to talk, he held Lupin when he wanted to be held, often during the night when an indefinable something would wake Snape and he would find Lupin awake with silent tears tracing down his face as he stared at the ceiling. Lupin hadn't attended the first meeting of the Order a few days after the battle that was held in the Hog's Head. He just hadn't felt able. Snape understood. Lupin's world had been turned upside down again. He needed to adjust once more.

Whilst Snape taught, Lupin stayed in his quarters reading or just thinking, having his meals with Snape whenever Snape could manage to get out of eating in the Great Hall, sitting with Snape whilst he brewed. Slowly, but surely, he was returning to Snape, although still subdued and contemplative. No broad smiles, but at least now the odd occasional small smile would lift Lupin's sad expression.

But today was a turning point. Today was the first day that Lupin reached out beyond himself and Snape. Lupin had been up for the whole day. He had written letters to well-wishers from the Order and spent a long time composing a letter of sympathy to Emmeline arranging to meet with her at the weekend after the end of term, just for some mutual support. He had a conference with Dumbledore about the next werewolf pack target in Somerset and asked to be able to meet Potter with some of the members of the Order at King's Cross to speak to his Potter's family. Lupin had been sure Potter would be hard hit by Black's death and wanted to offer some reassurance, even though he felt there was little he could do or that Dumbledore encouraged him to do. Lupin was engaged at last.

And now, tonight was the first night that Lupin had pulled Snape gently to him and kissed him on the mouth, his hands pressing Snape gently to himself, his intention and want clear, but the question was in his eyes, the fear of rejection apparent.

To Snape, even though it had only been a week since they had last made love at Grimmauld Place, the night before the battle, it may as well have been months for the trepidation he felt, and could sense that Lupin felt also. Lupin had been very tentative with Snape physically since the night of the battle, as if his drunken advance, so full of self-loathing, had permanently damaged them. Of course, it hadn't and, although Snape wanted to reassure Lupin that he loved him as much as he ever had, he very much didn't want that advance repeated. It wasn't who Lupin was.

But this passion and gentleness – this was who Lupin was, and Snape welcomed him like his lost love, melting into the kiss and the embrace, hearing a small noise of pleasure at the back of Lupin's throat as Snape reciprocated, the kiss and embrace making his head swim as his skin ignited under Lupin's fingers and they pressed against each other as soon as they knew their touches were wanted, mouthing and kissing each other's neck to gentle moans as their hands explored the back of the other man until they both writhed against each other, hot with excitement and longing.

Snape worked his fingers into Lupin's opening, his stomach flipping to hear Lupin gasp and breathily say, "Please." They returned to kissing although it had become urgent and noisy as Lupin wrapped his fingers around Snape's cock and paced it, squeezing as his did so, his breathing rapid as Snape's questing fingers found his prostate. Lupin cried out and Snape groaned at the sound that drove into his own groin intensifying the feel of Lupin's hand. Snape's other hand moved Lupin's away and pressed Lupin down to the bed as his fingers rhythmically worked inside Lupin, delighting Snape to see him writhe, then cry out and arch when Snape thrilled him.

Kneeling now between Lupin's legs, Snape parted Lupin's legs wide, taking in the way Lupin looked at him with so much need that the very smokiness of it made his groin clench with heat. "My darling Severus," Lupin murmured and wrapped his legs high around Snape's waist as Snape pulled him towards himself and guided his own cock, and feeling the moist readiness of Lupin, thrust his cock into him full length. Lupin arched and cried out "Yes!" and Snape stopped, gasping for breath to hold himself in that glorious moment, fully sheathed, waiting for Lupin's blue eyes to meet his once more before he began to roll into Lupin deeply, his own want burning inside, his cock searing with every thrust, his orgasm building irresistibly with each movement and noise that Lupin made as Lupin grasped at Snape's back with his hands.

Both men were breathing sharply now, and Lupin made deep, delicious noises at the base of his throat until Snape angled sharply and made Lupin cry out. He could barely keep his mind with those noises and sensations. Snape manoeuvred them both so that he was sitting and Lupin was straddling him, impaled upon him as Snape clasped him to himself, mouthing and biting on his chest, both so very near as he just managed to speak Lupin's name as Lupin ground onto him, the hot friction almost undoing his mind completely as Lupin murmured, "I love you. I love you." Snape could do no more than thrust in time with Lupin, until he felt the scaling heat and pulse of his orgasm mounting and clutched Lupin's shoulders hard as he cried out his name as his vision blackened, and his orgasm flared brightly and began to fall.

And as Lupin cried out Snape's name as he came, his neck stretched back in the way that haunted Snape's dreams with its sensuousness, as Snape's own deep groan of intense release died away and he held Lupin close, he blessed all that was magical that he had waited – waited so their union would not be bruising, but beautiful and life-affirming.

* * *

**Next chapter: are there really Giants in Somerset?**

*** currently being covered in the companion story "Old Friend".**


	75. What a Week, Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes in bold from Chapter 1 of HBP are © J.K. Rowling

"My Lord," said Snape, hoping his voice did not betray his shock. This would have to be approached carefully. "He is a mere boy. He does not reach his majority for another year ..."

"I am aware of it, Severus," the Dark Lord said sleekly. "It is not as if I have never taken acolytes so young previously, is it?"

"I was of age, my Lord," Snape said, with a humble bow of his head.

"Your young friend – who is no longer with us -" the Dark Lord stroked his own left forearm contemplatively, "Regulus ... yes ... the brother of the blood traitor Animagus – my, how we forget ..." the Dark Lord pulled down his sleeve once more and regarded Snape, "... was young Malfoy's age."

"My Lord, yes."

"The task I have in mind for him will test his mettle; a test his peacock of a father could never pass and his vapid mother would not even have the wherewithal to attempt."

"Perhaps, my Lord, if it is an important task, it would be better assigned to a safer pair of hands than those of a mere boy?" Snape ventured, not wanting the task, but wanting the knowledge of it.

The Dark Lord inclined his head towards Snape and he glided around his kneeling form. "Your enthusiasm for our cause is a joy to me, Severus. You are a dedicated servant." Snape nodded his head, with a tight smile.

"I believe, Severus, that ultimately you will need to ensure the task is fulfilled. It will be ... I have no doubt ... a fitting denouement to the subservience you have found repulsive for all these years. It will be your liberation."

It was so unexpected, Snape knew his physical jolt was noticeable. The Dark Lord expected Draco to attempt to kill Dumbledore! When Draco failed, as he so assuredly would, then Snape should accomplish the task.

"Ah! Your heart leaps at the thought – your liberation from the old fool and his imbecilic belief in the power of _love_!" the Dark Lord sneered. "How you must suffer to pretend to be so much less than you truly are or can ever be at the feet of that weak old man. We shall watch as Draco fails – we shall watch his mother and – when I deem it fitting to release him – his preening fool of a father – suffer as their son suffers. Failure is not a trait befitting a Death Eater. His father failed. His failure has seen the loss of the Prophecy and that I ... _I ..._ have had to re-site my own headquarters because of Ministry snoopers. Draco's failure and his – _correction_ – will be a warning to my loyal followers." The Dark Lord ceased pacing around Snape and stood before him.

"Do not speak of your knowledge of the task to the boy, Severus. Let him show me whether he possesses any resource or spark of his own. Do I make myself understood?"

"My Lord, yes." Snape bowed low. "My Lord?" Snape kept his eyes to the floor.

"Yes – Severus?" The Dark Lord stroked Snape's head, his head inclined to the bowed body, granting his acolyte the indulgence of being heard.

"Forgive my impudence in asking. I only do so to have information to carry through your desires ..."

"But, of course, Severus, of course." _Pat._

" ... are you closer to Ministry control than I understood to – ah – extinguish the Headmaster?"

There was silence. Snape wondered if he had overstepped the mark – the mark he always had to guess at as it had no fixed spot that he had ever determined. He calmed his breathing as if he faced a predator that could smell fear.

"Stand, Severus, and unmask."

Snape did so, gently exhaling to keep calm, meeting the Dark Lord's red-eyed gaze.

"You may as well know that today I demanded Fudge stand aside for me. The blustering idiot will not. He will soon see the consequences of that stupidity. I will make a personal demonstration of my power for him. I have told him the date and time it will occur." Snape considered how to pursue the discussion to obtain details, but the Dark Lord was interested in other things.

"Now, walk with me and tell me of your progress with our great work. I have a plan that may assist you ..."

oooOOOooo

Snape was furious!

He had hoped for at least some time at Spinner's End with Lupin in the summer; Lupin seemed to love it so, although Snape still couldn't fathom why. Now, he would be cursed with Pettigrew's presence in his home to _"assist him"_ with his Muggle-murdering poison. He would have to live with it. It was important that the Dark Lord believed the 'great project' could be accomplished. It meant he expected less from Snape in the way of murder and torture. Now he was bonded with Lupin, he did not want to besmirch Lupin's soul that was enjoined with his, even for Dumbledore's great plan.

Still, there it was. At least, they still had the flat and at least he wasn't obliged to take the rat travelling with him. He was to stay at Spinner's End to assist him – nothing more. Snape was sure his cover was intact. For surely, if the Dark Lord suspected him, Pettigrew would hardly be a spy to challenge a double agent of Snape's capability.

He would have to ask Lupin what Pettigrew's brewing skills were like at school. As far as he could recall (and really he had not taken a great deal of notice of the short, pudgy hanger-on), Pettigrew was not proficient, but not disastrous either. Ah – but there it was – the solution - a few brewing disasters, carefully engineered by Snape, endangering the Dark Lord's beloved project, would remove Pettigrew from him. But he'd let him stay for a while – all the better to have him to blame and be the object for correction – when the poison was consistently ruined by a second-rate potioneer. Snape smirked.

A small measure of retribution then. _Excellent._ It was, perhaps, not so bad.

He arrived at the dungeons. He had walked through the grounds and school and not met a soul. Hogwarts was oddly disturbing during the summer months with only Dumbledore, Filch, Hagrid and the house-elves in attendance.

House-elves. Tippy. Yes, she needed to be warned to stay at the flat unless she was called. It would not do to have his and Lupin's house-elf known to the Dark Lord. He would speak to her once he had apprised Dumbledore of Draco Malfoy's imminent branding and his assigned test of loyalty and worth. Of course, Dumbledore would take it in his stride. There was nothing a school boy could do to a sorcerer of the power and stature of Albus Dumbledore.

oooOOOooo

He had not wanted Lupin to go to Somerset. It had only been a fortnight since the battle, but Lupin was recovering. Occasionally, there were even a few small jokes. They lifted Snape's heart. And as for the last time they made love! It was Lupin at his lusty best and had nearly undone Snape, it had been so unexpected.

It was the last day of term after breakfast. The children had all left on the Hogwarts Express and they themselves would be Disapparating from the Hogwarts perimeter for London after lunch, then Lupin would be heading out to Somerset with David.

Snape had been bottling up the last of his brewing and Lupin had been helping with the labelling. Over these past two weeks, Lupin had taken to watching and talking to Snape as he brewed, seemingly understanding instinctively – or perhaps Snape's features became set in a certain expression – when not to speak when Snape needed complete concentration or he needed to begin an incantation for any enchanted Potion. He didn't know what the trigger was, but Lupin understood it and it worked well for them. Snape had never envisaged having someone sit with him for hours upon end in this, his sanctuary. It felt so natural. He quickly stole a look at Lupin labelling as neatly as he could. _Such a perfect partnership,_ Snape thought.

They had finished and Snape was racking the cleaned phials when, softly and silently, Lupin had wrapped his hands around Snape's waist from behind and started to nuzzle his neck. _Ah, the waxing of the moon!_ Snape thought as Lupin fingers pressed into his stomach, sending a deep and delicious thrill to his groin.

Lupin chuckled deeply, his deep, dirty chuckle that Snape found so very sexy. He let his head fall back to savour it and the effect it had on his skin, and his happiness as he realised this was the first time he had heard it since the battle, and knowing that if Lupin chuckled like that, he would be thinking lascivious thoughts about _him_. It made his insides boil with hot desire.

"It's been quite a while since I made the Potions Master mine on the Potions bench," Lupin murmured into Snape's ear as he nibbled at the lobe and licked behind it.

 _Remus's fantasies,_ Snape would have smiled if Lupin hadn't hungrily claimed Snape's mouth as Snape turned his head to say something. Whatever it was, it was forgotten instantly as Lupin's hand grasped him possessively and he felt the spell remove his shirt, but not his robe. Lupin had explained his fascination with Snape's robe once, back in the library at Grimmauld Place – now _there_ was a memory to conjure with! – but Snape found it extraordinary how Lupin loved Snape to be dishevelled precisely because – well, because he was known for always being so formal and "buttoned up".

Only once the shirt was gone did Lupin cast the spell to undo his robe buttons tantalisingly slowly, slowly enough to excite them both as Lupin pressed Snape to the bench, kissing him to set his skin alight until the robe was undone. Then, just as slowly, he peeled the robe away from one shoulder so he could nurse the skin – kissing, biting and licking his neck, shoulder and revealing the shoulder joint to bite it gently as Snape was held helpless and sighing with each small pleasure against the bench, his neck stretching for more as Lupin pressed and gently ground against him, Snape's robe now hanging off one shoulder completely. Snape gripped the bench as Lupin's hands found the waistband of his trousers and began to smooth them down his hips as he sank to his own knees behind Snape pulling them all the way down and off.

Lupin kissed his way up Snape's leg as one hand held the heavy robe away from him, pushing it to the side and then he ran his hands up Snape's thigh and over his butt cheeks, slowly parting them, so his tongue continued kissing and licking until it gently circled Snape's opening. Snape moaned loudly at the exquisite feel of it as Lupin pushed his tongue in, and Snape unfocused completely, his grip on the bench unable to be any tighter, as Lupin repeated the motion slowly, over and over, he held Snape's hips tightly and Snape moaned incessantly, flexing and grasping with his fingers at the bench as he did so.

Lupin straightened himself up slowly, and spelled away his own clothes, then pressed his own hips against Snape's backside, flesh thrilling flesh at the touch and he slowly worked his way in, smoothing his hands up Snape's back to hold his shoulders, and kiss his neck fervently as he thrust into him, each thrust making Snape groan until Lupin thrust against his prostate and Snape cried out, closing his eyes as colours blossomed in his vision, and he raised himself onto his hands away from the bench so Lupin's hand could find and pace his cock in time. The pace wasn't hurried. It was luxurious and deep, each rolling thrust searching for maximum pleasure for both men as Lupin gasped out Snape's name to the background of Snape's delirious cries, made louder as Lupin's other hand left Snape's hip and moved to massage his balls instead. Snape gripped the bench hard to anchor himself and pushed back hard, crying out, "Please!"

Lupin thrust in earnest now, Snape's own body alight and re-flamed with every deep thrust matching every pull on his cock as his orgasm became undeniable, building hard to the point of pain so he could hold no longer and cried out Lupin's name as he came hard on the bench and heard Lupin gasping out his name as he emptied into him shortly after.

Snape dropped his head onto the bench as his arms gave out and he felt Lupin's legs trembling against his own as he held onto him and gently turned him over onto his back and gazed at him as they recovered their breath.

A wolfish smile broke lazily over Lupin's face, his eyes still heavy-lidded. Snape thought Lupin looked just beautiful, as he straightened and looked at Snape's glistening form, with his robe hanging still from one shoulder and spread under his body. "Just beautiful," Lupin said quietly, and covered him to kiss him once more.

oooOOOooo

"Why was she even there?" Snape said, feeling queasy that he had given up her home address after Moody and Tonks assured him Emmeline had cleared out. What had happened to their well-laid plans of disinformation?

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "Emmeline had been assigned as our liaison between the Muggle Minister cabinet and our Ministry. It appears she went home to pick up some papers as it was so near to Downing Street. Death Eaters must have been waiting for her. Severus, you could not have known she would do that."

"Perhaps ... perhaps she was distracted ... not thinking clearly," Snape said quietly, not really knowing how she had taken the death of Black.

"Perhaps. But you could not have known ..." Dumbledore reiterated.

"No. I could not. But perhaps I should have thought ..."

"I don't believe that, Severus. We are at war again. There will be losses, and accustoming oneself to it is hard. Look at Tonks: she is determined to blame herself for Sirius's death because she was duelling Bellatrix before Sirius took over after she was injured."

Snape snorted softly with impatience. "Nymphadora Tonks is no match for Bellatrix, and I doubt she ever could be. It would take a witch or wizard of uncommon and substantial talent to take Bellatrix on, and an iron resolve to beat her. That will never be Miss Tonks. She is weak."

"That's rather unkind of you, Severus."

"It is not unkind to acknowledge a truth. She is not strong. Look how long she waited to alert the Order when Remus was missing so she could tend to her boyfriend, and yet she does not even acknowledge her own werewolf mate to the other Order members. She is so weak."

"It must be difficult for a young couple such as they ..." Dumbledore said mildly,

"... I would _kill_ to be free to acknowledge mine, Albus!" Snape flared. "Weak!" he spat as if for emphasis.

oooOOOooo

In just a matter of days, it seemed to Snape that stakes had been raised exponentially.

The Dark Lord himself had destroyed Brockdale Bridge at the time he had promised Fudge. The Dark Lord revelled in the destruction of this construction that the filthy Muggles had thought so very ingenious, so inspired and ground-breaking. Ha! The Dark Lord used that phrase as his very inspiration when he broke the ground around the bridge's foundations and twisted them out of the magically corrupted concrete. The power required to explode the bridge's suspensions was phenomenal. But to hold it and twist it as the Dark Lord had so that the bridge tilted to and fro and the Muggles screamed for their lives rather than plummeting instantly to their deaths gave the Dark Lord immense satisfaction. Twenty Muggles had died in their cars, the Dark Lord ensuring that even those cars that had not been locked or had windows open, on contact with the water became sealed like the tombs they would become.

At least, Snape had not told the Dark Lord about Muggle 'rush hour' but had withheld that particular essential. Snape had been appalled that he had suggested a structure be used for the Dark Lord's demonstration of strength. It was only Lupin's persistence that it had saved thousands of lives had it been a hospital that made Snape feel some relief from the burden of guilt that settled on his shoulders.

He Occluded deeply most of the time. The death of Amelia Bones after a formidable duel with the Dark Lord seemed to presage even more disaster. With the full-scale revolt of the Dementors, the detrimental effects were felt country-wide. The weather remained constantly like a misty November day – bleak and speaking to impending, never-ending winter. The Dark Lord, of course, had ordered them to attack no-one bearing the Dark Mark and, so far, they had complied. Of course, they had sustenance aplenty – magical and non-magical alike were falling prey to them. Now their appetites knew no restraint, they were breeding and so enlarging this most potent threat to the ability of magical folk to focus on the Light.

oooOOOooo

Lupin had been with the pack on Exmoor for one week. He had managed to speak by the mirror with Snape just twice so far. He got David to keep watch out of earshot, telling him he was reporting in. Lupin said that David was very solicitous of Lupin and sympathetic about the loss of his mate. Lupin realised now he had been rather foolish to allow the mistake to go uncorrected. Certainly, "Seth Moore" could not appear with Lupin any longer.

"Meet me at the local pub on Saturday, please Severus."

"I can hardly come as Seth, can I?" Snape smiled at Lupin. Under other circumstances, Snape would say no as he could not think of a justification to meet Lupin whilst he was on assignment, but, knowing Lupin was still vulnerable, he could deny him nothing, so he agreed.

"Be someone else then. Surprise me! I'll find you by your scent. Please Severus."

"Are you intending to pick me up in the local pub then? What would young David think of you?" Snape smiled.

"Good point. Be someone we know then from the Order, meeting me to give me information. Then I'll get rid of him somehow ..."

oooOOOooo

He Apparated to the coordinates Lupin had given him behind a remote public house, "The Devil's Punchbowl". He raised an eyebrow at the name. _Muggles and their feverish imagination!_ Snape mused. He went to the bar and ordered a pint of ale and found a small table by himself and opened a Muggle newspaper he found discarded nearby. The majority of reporting was on destruction of the bridge and how the government was being blamed for skimping on its construction costs. _Extraordinary._ He drank his ale. He had forgotten just how much he enjoyed real ale.

"Come here often ... Bill?" Lupin smiled crookedly at the change Snape had adopted for this meeting. Snape returned the smile, as Lupin sat down with his own pint. "Polyjuice?"

"No," Snape shook his head. "Just a Glamour. Lasts longer than Polyjuice, but – well – your transfigurations are better than mine."

Lupin took it all in appraisingly then ran his hands through the mane of red hair, then rubbed a lock of it between his fingers and closed his eyes.

"Do you like this hair?" Snape said, finding he wasn't as perplexed about this as he had been by those dreams when Lupin was in Egypt or when Lupin had first transfigured his features.

"It's ... quite sensuous, but," Lupin said softly, for Snape's ears only, as he opened his eyes, and looked deeply into Snape's, "it's not you. And those eyes are crystal blue, but not the dark, intense eyes I fall into every time we make love."

"Right answer," Snape said, savouring the light touch Lupin placed on his leg. "Remus?" Snape said lightly, waiting until Lupin had taken a mouthful of ale. "What would you have thought if I'd cast a Glamour to look like Alastor Moody?"

Lupin choked on his drink in exactly the manner Snape had hoped, and they laughed together. Lupin told him of the pack they were currently with: it was only about thirty strong and a relatively young pack with an Alpha called Ben. Lupin had high hopes they could be persuaded to pledge to the Order. They spent the evening companionably, just talking until last orders.

"So, should I walk you back ... ?" Snape asked, not really wanting to go home alone now he was with Lupin.

Lupin looked about him.

"You didn't bring David with you, did you?" Snape said, looking around them both.

"Nope. Told him to wait behind. Said I had a private meeting with an Order member. Just an update, you know."

"Have I been updated then?" Snape said, catching the twinkle in Lupin's eyes.

"Not yet – not fully."

Lupin downed the last of his pint and he and Snape left the pub. Lupin took Snape's hand, and led to an outbuilding and they fell into an embrace and kissed languidly. Snape wasn't really sure what Lupin intended, but he let himself get lost in the embrace until, suddenly, he felt Lupin's body stiffen and the kiss stopped abruptly. Snape listened for what Lupin could hear.

Lupin pulled himself away and pointed a forefinger, inclining his head, listening. Then Snape heard it too. The swoosh of several pairs of large wings high in the air. Both men retrieved their wands and went to the door of the outbuilding and looked above them to try to spot the vampires. Snape saw them outlined in the moonlight. Six of them, winging their way toward Exmoor – towards the pack.

Lupin Conjured his Patronus and sent it to Ben with a warning and both he and Snape cast _Fugere_. They both took flight and chased the vampires with Fire and Cutting Curses. The vampires veered away from Exmoor boundaries and flew fast into a Muggle housing estate. The female vampire (who Snape recognised as Infamia) sent a _Bombarda_ hex at Lupin, which Snape deflected down onto the trees below, uprooting them. She and Bodmin sent another two, both Lupin and Snape now deflecting onto the buildings. Snape heard screaming from the occupants below but now the six vampires shot down to the roads below and darted with preternatural speed out of the street lights, casting _Reducto_ at them to break them and hide them from sight, little understanding that the werewolf chasing them had their scent and heard them nonetheless, as they broke off into different directions.

Snape felled Sanguini with a body bind and tied him to one of the twisted lampposts, as Lupin Stunned de la Page and bound him also. They heard two vampires take off as they chased down the remaining two. Snape recognised them as Eldred and Hortensia, new recruits to the Dark Lord's cause. Lupin and Snape sent hex after hex after them, eventually felling one with a body bind and the other with a fierce Stunner. They bound the two to the others and Snape Conjured garlic and rose bush twig ties that the vampires would be unable to break and then they chased after the remaining two, leaving t **rees uprooted, roofs ripped off, lampposts bent** in their wake.

As Snape and Lupin flew towards the encampment gaining on the last two vampires, they saw them: Greyback and a gang of twenty werewolves trying to creep up on the pack. Since when did vampires and werewolves ever work together? But from this vantage point, Snape could see the werewolves in the camp mustering as Lupin's Patronus began to dissipate. Greyback had at least lost the element of surprise. A look-out below yelled to the pack and the pack ran towards Greyback, spells flying lighting up the night sky with the colours of hexes and curses. Several of those with Greyback immediately baulked at the ferocity of the unexpected challenge and Disapparated.

Bodmin dived into the trees and landed on the ground, and Lupin chased him, firing hexes after him as David joined him as the werewolves duelled around them and Snape quickly saw Lupin turn his attention to Greyback who was violently duelling his way towards Ben.

Snape heard a high pitched squeal and wheeled around, spotting Infamia once more as she hovered above the scene also focusing on her prey: Ben, who was shouting directions below. Snape sent a Repulsion Hex at her, sending her reeling through the air. She recovered her equilibrium, shaking herself briefly, then focused her vampiric vision upon Snape.

"You wear a Glamour," she purred seductively and softly in her Italian accent, yet he heard her voice reverberating painfully in his head. "Who dares attack Infamia? _Finite Incantatum_!" she cast quickly and Snape knew he was revealed.

"So, it is Severus Snape … and you fly like your master!" she hissed, a wicked smile revealing her long fangs. Of course, he could not now let her be captured.

" _Sectumsempra_!" he roared as he cast viciously at her wings, and he Conjured a wicked-looking stake and lit it with Fiendfyre and threw it with unerring accuracy to her heart and she combusted on the instant.

"Snape – what? Severus!"

Snape spun to see David staring up at him, wide-eyed, from the ground, mid-spell against Bodmin, but spluttering. Snape swore, realising the Memory Charm had snapped, leaving David stunned and disorientated. "But I ... not Sirius! It was you! It was always ..."

"DAVID! NO!" Snape called, starting to dive at the same time to get a clear aim.

David's sudden realisation was halted as he was taken down in a savage lunge by Bodmin. David flailed his arms and tried to scream but could only gurgle as the vampire tore into his throat as Snape cried out, "No!" As Snape went to cast, Bodmin fell to the ground, thrashing and shrieking in agony, pushing David away as the werewolf's blood reacted immediately, the two curses warring inside the vampire's body, breaking it down from within as Lycanthropy brutalised and overwhelmed the vampiric curse, until the vampire was consumed in its own flames. **

David rasped for breath clutching at his torn throat, blood gushing from the artery through David's fingers.

"No!" exclaimed Snape again, as he set down, running, and dropped to his knees at David's side, taking in his imploring eyes as sounds of the raging battle of werewolves around them faded from Snape's consciousness as he charged his magic and chanted to close the cursed wounds – but the bite wounds closed only to re-open repeatedly as the curses warred within David too.

Soon there would be too much damage - just too much for Snape to heal.

* * *


	76. What a Week, Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes in bold from Chapter 33 of DH are © J.K. Rowling

Amidst the tumult and growing carnage of Unforgiveable and maiming curses and hexes being hurled between the two werewolf packs just through the trees, and the horrific gurgling sounds coming from David's throat, it seemed as if Snape had chanted this incantation for hours rather than minutes, his concentration was so intense. It was broken suddenly by a firm hand on his shoulder. He quickly took in Lupin's shocked look, and carried on chanting over the wound that knitted and then slithered open. Lupin didn't speak, understanding the concentration required, but Snape felt a Disillusionment Charm trickle over his body. Lupin kneeled next to Snape, and mirrored Snape's wand movements with his own wand.

"You need to go, Severus!" Lupin rasped at him. "I don't think anyone else has seen you yet, but you – must – go!"

"The boy ..." Snape muttered.

"I know the counter-curse. I'll keep trying ..." Lupin said, urgently, nudging him away.

"I don't think ... I ... I tried ..."

"I know. Go!"

oooOOOooo

Snape Apparated to the street where they had bound the vampires. Smoke was rising from the devastated houses and he heard moans from the injured inside. He did not stay to help. He knew he had limited time before the Aurors arrived. He strode to the bound vampires, and unbound them, one by one.

"Snape!" Sanguini said, dusting off his velvet cape and casting a charm so that it appeared immaculate once more. "It's good to see you. Do you know what happened here?"

"No," Snape sneered. "I only heard briefly from members of the Order that vampires had been taken and a werewolf pack was being assaulted. What is going on? Tell me quickly before we appear before the Dark Lord to explain the mission's failure."

"We have failed?" Sanguini sounded stricken. "What of Infamia and Bodmin? What of Greyback's pack."

"Your kin in Darkness are destroyed. Greyback is defeated," Snape said, his face like granite. "You have failed the Dark Lord. I hope you have good reason and are prepared for the consequences."

Snape left the four standing there, and Disapparated to the Dark Lord with his news.

oooOOOooo

"It was foolish and misguided, Severus. You have started thinking with your heart rather than your head," Dumbledore said, his voice clipped with irritation and disappointment.

"Had Remus and I not been there, there is no doubt that the pack would have been overrun by Greyback and his pack, and I dare say the vampires too! Remus and David would probably have been killed as well as any Light werewolves in it," Snape barked impatiently.

"You could have been seen!" Dumbledore challenged, his worry suddenly recognisable to Snape.

"I _was_ seen! I took care of it! And earned points for myself with the Dark Lord in the process by releasing the vampires we had bound."

Dumbledore breathed deeply and regarded Snape then nodded.

"Yes, that was quick-thinking of you," he conceded. "What did you tell him?"

"That the fracas had been reported to the Order and I went to see which of my master's assets I could salvage. I arrived before the Aurors to free the four bound vampires. Two had been killed, as far as I could determine, by trying to bite werewolves. I could do nothing about the battling werewolves. That was still ongoing. The Dark Lord was pleased that most of the vampires were saved." Snape sat heavily in the chair before Dumbledore.

"What on earth made Bodmin bite David? He must have known it would kill him?" Dumbledore asked wearily.

"Blood lust?" Snape shrugged. "Anger that I had just incinerated an ancient vampire? Truly, Albus, I don't know. I don't even know why they were on the mission. Against Muggles or wizards, I would understand the fear value, but not against werewolves. It was foolish. I will endeavour to find out, but I think it's as simple as the Dark Lord not understanding his enemy." Snape now had also relaxed in the chair and pinched the bridge of his nose very hard.

"Fudge fire-called me to …"

"Fudge?" Snape interrupted with a frown. "But Scrimgeour …?"

"… has deputised Fudge to do certain jobs for him," Dumbledore said, raising his hand against further interruptions. "As I was saying, Fudge told me that Giants had been reported in Somerset. I assume the damage must have been extensive."

"Infamia is … was … very keen on the _Bombarda_ spell. It was deflected down onto Muggle housing, and a number of destructive hexes after. Have the Magic Reversal Squad been deployed?"

"Yes, with Healers and Obliviators. Apparently, there were a number of appalling injuries, but most have been healed. Did you go by broomstick to Somerset then?" Dumbledore said lightly.

Snape spotted the trap. _What did the old coot know_? "It was a warm summer's night. We wanted to fly." _What would he make of that?_ Snape wondered.

Dumbledore smiled and his eyes twinkled. Snape pursed his lips crossly, determined to say no more.

"So, the pack is making its way to Wales?" Dumbledore asked, sitting back in his chair.

"The assault rather hastened their decision that way. When they've buried their dead, yes, they'll be on their way."

They fell into their own thoughts as a house-elf served them hot chocolate as a glorious summer's dawn broke over the castle and Snape steepled his long fingers over his nose as he thought.

"There was nothing that could be done to save him, Severus. You know that," Dumbledore said gently, watching Snape over his glasses.

"It was hearing me cast _Sectumsempra_ that broke the Memory Charm. He remembered we'd fought a vampyr in Romania. His shock at the sudden recall let Bodmin in. If you'd seen his face." Snape waved his hand dismissively in that gesture that Dumbledore had come to recognise as waving away a distressing memory or thought. "It was as if someone had robbed him of the ability to think straight as his reality changed. It was so … pointless," Snape sighed.

"Yes. So very pointless, and yet … so much is at stake," Dumbledore said, resolutely.

"Who will tell Miss Tonks?" asked Snape.

"Remus wanted to be the one to tell her, but I need him to consolidate with the pack. I will go to see her before breakfast."

oooOOOooo

Snape's currency with the Dark Lord was high. His rescue of the four vampires, and the news he delivered that one of the Order's werewolf spies had died in the carnage of the Battle of Exmoor had been greeted with gratitude. Snape had, of course, exhibited utmost satisfaction at the death of "no better than a jumped-up half-breed". In his heart, he felt terrible guilt that he should have handled David better himself; but no matter how he looked at it, he could not see how he could have handled the boy without disrupting his cover. Sometimes, he just had to live with the guilt.

He had allocated his hated old bedroom to Pettigrew. His mind was really a riot of confused feelings about having Peter Pettigrew, Marauder and traitor responsible for Lily's death sleeping in his hated childhood bed. Snape found his wand hand was very twitchy having Pettigrew in such close proximity to him in his home. He put him to work in the cellar. He found plenty for the hated man to do that kept him out of his way. When Snape needed to brew, he set Pettigrew other tasks around the house. The rat always complained, but Snape just reminded him how the rat was there to assist him and if he had issues with that, he should take them up with the Dark Lord. It kept the rat quiet.

oooOOOooo

It used to be that reading _The Daily Prophet_ was something a puzzle to be riddled through to find the truth behind all the Ministry-approved posturing and Potter-bashing. Now, it was a clarion call against the Dark Lord. Snape wondered how long the Dark Lord would allow that to continue as he picked up the day's edition after a full day of brewing.

The renowned and foremost Wizarding Rights advocate, Eideger Sneed, had filed papers with the Wizengamot demanding a full judicial and magical Enquiry into the miscarriage of justice against Sirius Black. It was clear to all now that Black had been innocent, and yet imprisoned without trial for twelve years before his escape. At a time like this, when it had become public knowledge that the Dark Lord had returned, and disappearances had started again, the Ministry had to be seen to be atoning for its past mis-judgements. Great play was being made of the Sirius Black Enquiry. They were calling Black, _the Azkaban One_. Snape raised an eyebrow with an imperceptible shake of the head. Lupin had wondered who was paying Sneed to take up the cause. Perhaps, Snape had conjectured, it was just very good publicity for the advocate. He turned to the article on various disappearances.

Disappearances, yes. He knew more than he wished about those disappearances. Many of those taken had been killed by Death Eaters - if they were lucky without torture. Already the toll within the Order was more than he could credit within a few days: Black, Emmeline, and David. Witches and wizards in positions of power known to be Light were being targeted, like Amelia Bones. The Dark Lord had left the remains of their duel as a mark of his superiority to the late Head of Magical Law Enforcement, his pride still smarting from his defeat by Dumbledore. Others – other less worthy opponents had been despatched and their remains Vanished or transfigured by the Dark Lord. Snape 'obtained' the ongoing information from Wilkes to give the list to Dumbledore for filing with the Wizengamot, when the time came.

And now, the Dark Lord was attacking the Muggle government too. A Muggle junior minister, Chorley or something, had been _Imperiused_ to believe he was a duck, but with homicidal tendencies. It was the Dark Lord's idea of a joke. Apparently.

He put the paper down, and pinched his nose. It was all happening so fast now. He heard a faint pop, and, wand drawn, he crept to the kitchen. Tippy waited there, her eyes wide and more fearful than he had ever seen as she worried her tunic furiously. She whispered quickly,

"Headmaster Dumbledore sent Tippy to bring Professor Snape. He is dying."

oooOOOooo

As soon as Snape righted himself from the Floo, he saw **Dumbledore sagged sideways in the throne-like chair behind the desk** , Tippy appeared next to Snape, ready for her instructions as Snape rushed to Dumbledore's side and ran his wand over him, halting as he saw h **is right hand dangl** ing **over the side, blackened and burned** , the charring slowly continuing to approach his wrist. _A curse then. Had the Malfoy boy already succeeded? Had Snape so dramatically underestimated him?_

Quickly, Snape began to incant to arrest the curse in the hand. Oh, but it was as Dark as pitch, and powerfully malign. Snape felt it as he cast.

"Tippy," he said quickly as he finished the first set of incantations that stopped the charring in its tracks, "in my robe pocket, take the key to my secure cabinet. You know the passwords and incantations. Bring the ceremonial goblet and the _Spiritus Vitae_. It is gold in colour. Hurry now!"

The little elf nodded and Disapparated. Snape began new counter-curse incantations, taking in what lay on the surface of the desk as he heard Dumbledore revive slowly as the little elf reappeared and measured out the Breath of Life into the goblet.

Dumbledore was now **semi-conscious. Snape** continued the counter-curse **incantations, pointing his wand at the wrist of the hand, while with his left hand he tipped** the **goblet full of** _Spiritus Vitae_ **down Dumbledore's throat. After a moment or two, Dumbledore's eyelids fluttered and opened.**

' **Why,' said Snape, without preamble, 'why did you put on that ring? It carries a curse, surely you realised that. Why even touch it?'**

A poorly-made gold signet **ring** inlaid with some black stone with a mark Snape couldn't quite make out **lay on the desk before Dumbledore. It was cracked; the sword of Gryffindor lay beside it.**

**Dumbledore grimaced.**

' **I ... was a fool. Sorely tempted ...'**

' **Tempted by what?'** Snape asked, sharply. He could not imagine what would tempt Dumbledore with all his deep knowledge of magic to have trifled with such a patently Dark object.

 **Dumbledore did not answer.** Snape felt his temper rising that Dumbledore, the Order's leader, had taken such a risk with himself, and Snape did not even know why.

' **It is a miracle you managed to return here!' Snape** spat **furious** ly **. 'That ring carried a curse of extraordinary power, to contain it is all we can hope for; I have trapped the curse in one hand for the time being -'**

**Dumbledore raised his blackened, useless hand, and examined it with the expression of one being shown an interesting curio.**

' **You have done very well, Severus. How long do you think I have?'**

 **Dumbledore's tone was** maddeningly **conversational; he might have been asking for a weather forecast. Snape hesitated,** as he realised how short the time was and how there could be no curing it. **'I cannot tell. Maybe a year. There is no halting such a spell forever. It will spread, eventually, it is the sort of curse that strengthens over time.'** _That was always the Dark Lord's intention when casting them, after all._ Yes, Snape recognised the Dark Lord's curse-work, all too well.

**Dumbledore smiled. The news that he had less than a year to live seemed a matter of little or no concern to him.**

' **I am fortunate, extremely fortunate, that I have you, Severus.'**

' **If you had only summoned me a little earlier, I might have been able to do more, buy you more time!' said Snape furiously** , feeling impotent when ten, fifteen minutes earlier might have made all the difference **. He looked down at the broken ring and the sword. 'Did you think that breaking the ring would break the curse?'**

' **Something like that ... I was delirious, no doubt ...' said Dumbledore. With an effort, he straightened himself in his chair. 'Well, really, this makes matters much more straightforward.'**

 **Snape** was **utterly perplexed** as a worm of worry worked its way into his gut **. Dumbledore smiled.**

' **I refer to the plan Lord Voldemort is revolving around me. His plan to have the poor Malfoy boy murder me.'**

 **Snape said down in the chair across the desk from Dumbledore . He** really didn't want to talk about Malfoy's spoilt offspring who Dumbledore had seen fit to save; he **wanted to** know **more** of **the subject of Dumbledore's cursed hand** and how it had happened and why Dumbledore had endangered himself so grievously. He was sure these things were pivotal to their cause **, but the other held it up in polite refusal to discuss the matter further.**

**Scowling, Snape said, 'The Dark Lord does not expect Draco to succeed. This is merely punishment for Lucius's recent failures. Slow torture for Draco's parents, while they watch him fail and pay the price.'**

' **In short the boy has had a death sentence pronounced upon him as surely as I have,' said Dumbledore. 'Now, I should have thought the natural successor to the job, once Draco fails, is yourself?'**

**There was a short pause.**

' **That, I think, is the Dark Lord's plan** , **'** Snape said sourly.

' **Lord Voldemort foresees a moment in the near future when he will not need a spy at Hogwarts?'** The air hung heavily between the two men as the understanding passed that the Dark Lord expected to gain control of the Ministry and, with it, the school. Dumbledore was expected to be killed, and his killer appointed Headmaster in his stead. Snape felt his body wash with cold fear that Dumbledore could talk so ... that it could possibly be so ... imminent.

' **He believes the school will soon be in his grasp, yes.'**

' **And if it does fall into his grasp,' said Dumbledore, almost, it seemed, as an aside, 'I have your word that you will do all in your power to protect the students of Hogwarts?'**

 **Snape gave a stiff nod** , finding himself unable to utter the affirmative as this new reality seeped into every pore, chilling him to the bone **.**

' **Good. Now then. Your first priority will be to discover what Draco is up to. A frightened teenage boy is a danger to others as well as to himself. Offer him help and guidance, he ought to accept, he likes you -'**

' **\- much less since his father has lost favour. Draco blames me, he thinks I have usurped Lucius's position,'** Snape rambled, but seeing the flaw in Dumbledore's plan to watch young Malfoy.

' **All the same, try. I am concerned less for myself than for accidental victims of whatever schemes might occur to the boy. Ultimately, of course, there is only one thing to be done if we are to save him from Lord Voldemort's wrath.'**

**Snape raised his eyebrows and his tone was sardonic as he asked, 'Are you intending to let him kill you?'**

' **Certainly not. _You_ must kill me.'**

 **There was a long silence, broken only by an odd clicking noise. Fawkes the phoenix was gnawing a bit of cuttlebone** as Snape's gut spasmed and his jaw clenched. _Was he out of his mind? Had the curse destroyed his wits?_ Snape wanted to shout. But that worm of worry now worked in combination with the chill of fear. Of course, Dumbledore meant it **.**

' **Would you like me to do it now?' asked Snape, his voice heavy with irony. 'Or would you like a few moments to compose an epitaph?'**

' **Oh, not quite yet,' said Dumbledore, smiling. 'I daresay the moment will present itself in due course. Given what has happened tonight,' he indicated his withered hand, 'we can be sure that it will happen within a year.'**

' **If you don't mind dying,' said Snape roughly,** suddenly regretting every time he had hidden behind his facade of granite that now Dumbledore would think Snape capable of this action anymore, **'why not let Draco do it?'**

' **That boy's soul is not yet so damaged,' said Dumbledore. 'I would not have it ripped apart on my account.'** Snape was horrified.

' **And my soul, Dumbledore? Mine?'** The sickness in the pit of Snape's stomach threatened to overwhelm him. Always – still - so casually disregarded.

' **You alone know whether it will harm your soul to help an old man avoid pain and humiliation,' said Dumbledore. 'I ask this one, great favour of you, Severus, because death is coming for me as surely as the Chudley Cannons will finish bottom of this year's league. I confess I should prefer a quick, painless exit to the protracted and messy affair it will be if, for instance, Greyback is involved. Or dear Bellatrix, who likes to play with her food before she eats it.'**

 **His tone was light but his blue eyes pierced Snape as ... if the soul they discussed was visible to him.** If anyone had told him all those years ago on that hilltop that when Dumbledore asked what Snape would give him, it would include _this_ – he simply could not credit it.

His heart hammered violently. He had killed before. Of course, he had. The Dark Lord's service required murder as a minimum; what the Dark Lord had doted on was the ingenuity that Snape had brought to his killings. His own curses; his exquisite poisons.

But this … this … servitude he had entered into with Dumbledore was not supposed to encompass killing on his behalf, rather than the Dark Lord's.

Lily had not survived. The overwhelming desolation of his grief and his complicity gave him, for the first time in his life – empathy – for what he had done to others with so much relish. He had needed … craved … absolution for his crimes, first and foremost for Lily, but ultimately, for all the ravages he'd perpetrated on his own soul.

But now this …

Before this night, no wizard or witch would have been a match for Dumbledore, in Snape's estimation. Now, he was mortally wounded. If Dumbledore fell into her clutches, Bellatrix would torture him to insanity and beyond; her brutality was beyond even Snape's vivid imagination. It wasn't moot. It would happen. If Draco didn't do it, Auntie Bella would be there to assist.

No. Snape could not allow that.

For all Snape's many justified complaints against the man before him now, he had helped Snape learn to Occlude to control his fear of the wolf; he had offered him a way to seek his absolution, although the path was hard; he had taken the role of confessor in those early days and listened to the worst of Snape's life and the very worst of Snape's excesses. He rarely judged him; when he did, it devastated him. If Snape were honest, Dumbledore had become for him, more of a father figure than his own father had ever been.

This man had told all who criticised Snape, from the aftermath of the first war to this second war, in the teeth of stringent opposition, that he _trusted_ Severus Snape. And now, he trusted him with the final act of ending his life painlessly. Snape wished it would pass to someone else, but there was no-one. For impassive, cold-blooded killing – it could only be Severus Snape.

His stomach roiled. Bile rose into his mouth. He could not speak. **At last, Snape gave another curt nod.**

**Dumbledore seemed satisfied.**

' **Thank you, Severus.** We will need to work together to ensure we have a failsafe system to alert you if that time comes. For now, you must speak to no-one of it – not even Remus.'

oooOOOooo

Snape did not sleep that night. He stared at the ceiling, barely blinking. So many things he had forgotten to ask in his shock at the request.

How would they tell Lupin?

How would he escape being thrown into Azkaban?

How would Dumbledore leave evidence to exonerate Snape of his killing when the time was right for the world to know?

The questions jumbled in his brain and contrived to rob him of his sleep. He wished Lupin were here now to hold him. Snape felt as if he were falling ... spiralling downwards ... every time he closed his eyes. He kept them open. And stared.

oooOOOooo

Snape shut his front door, rubbing his stinging hand and wrist as the Unbreakable Vow continued to wend into his skin and his blood stream where it would work its insidious way into his magical core. There it would squat like a spider until he fulfilled his Vow. If he failed, like the time bomb it was meant to be, it would fuse and then extinguish his magical core and he would die. Nothing could stop it.

Lupin would no doubt tell him he was foolish to have made an Unbreakable Vow. Well, he had already promised Dumbledore to do the deed under the ancient geas he owed the older wizard. This just overlaid that obligation; entrenched it deeper – enslaved him further.

If he were honest with himself, when Narcissa had broken down in his arms, it had almost unmanned him to see the previously glacial woman so distraught, and her foul sister, so condemnatory of her for not wishing to sacrifice her son. As she had collapsed against him, he had remembered with painfully sharp clarity the events of Christmas night, not yet seven months ago: how she had managed to get him, badly tortured and broken, back to Spinner's End even though the Dark Lord expressly forbade Death Eaters to assist each other after correction. She had defied the Dark Lord for him; it behoved him to defy the Dark Lord for her. Another layer of obligation. A life debt. He was happy to pay it.

As he made his weary way to bed, he checked Pettigrew was safe in his room and then warded his own bedroom against the rat. The weekend would see Lupin home in London. How it angered him that he could not spend all of his summer with him. He needed to get rid of Pettigrew, but he must not rush. To rush would lead to greater expectations for success of the poison. He had to restrain himself but, oh, Snape was so desperate to see Lupin. To hold him, and be held. To tell him all he needed to told. To make sure he understood. He missed him so.

It had been such a week: such a terrible week of death, and of death to come.

* * *


	77. Blood Moon

It had felt like months rather than weeks since Snape had last seen Lupin. They had arranged to meet at the flat but Lupin had still not arrived two hours after Snape had expected him. There was no reason to be worried, or even concerned: Lupin was with Dumbledore, but since the promise and Vow extracted from him, Snape needed Lupin as much as any drug. He needed the reassurance of his love as if it were a validation of his very existence.

He paced their small living room impatiently. Of course, this yielded no results; he didn't even know why he was doing it. He must have picked it up from Dumbledore. He took the small mirror from robes, and toyed with it over and over, fighting the urge to call to speak to him, feeling he would sound as if he were hounding him. He could bear it no longer and spoke his name into the mirror.

Lupin's face appeared. Ah, he looked so tired, and still there was a sadness in his eyes, but it still lifted Snape's heart to see him.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Severus," Lupin said softly. "I'll be along soon."

Snape thought Lupin sounded so defeated. It was only then he realised that he had seen the shining black tiles of the Ministry of Magic. He was still there. Why? Lupin had accompanied Dumbledore to file Black's Will with the Probate Registry in the Ministry, but it was past filing hours now.

The Death Chamber. He felt as sure as anything that Lupin had gone there. He shook his head against his own thoughts. Perhaps, Snape just couldn't think straight. He'd had very little sleep over the past couple of weeks but there was a flutter of panic in his gut. He could wait no longer.

He left the flat and Disapparated to Ministry of Magic's workers' entrance and strode to the Department of Mysteries, eerily silent in its emptiness at this time of day. Snape knew in his heart where he would find Lupin and he sped on to the Death Chamber, his heart in his mouth.

There it was: the arch – the Veil. And Lupin sitting by it on the floor, one leg outstretched, the other bent, on which his arm draped and his head resting back against the arch, his eyes closed. Snape's mouth dried out. Why, oh why, was he here? He approached him softly and, as he reached out a hand to his shoulder, Lupin turned his face to him. Snape could see there had been tears. Not many, but Lupin's eyelashes were wet and his beautiful eyes, glassy.

"Hello, Severus," he said softly and held out a hand for Snape to help him up. "Whatever is the matter?" Lupin said as he stood and looked at Snape's face.

"Were you going to leave me?" Snape said quietly, indicating the Veil, knowing even as he said it that the notion was illogical. Lupin's face softened with understanding.

"Never, Severus." Lupin's voice was a whisper. "Nothing could make me leave you. I just," he sighed heavily, " ... I just needed to say good-bye."

oooOOOooo

They got back to the flat and, as they sat on the settee, Lupin wearily updated him on the successful transition of the Somerset pack and then on his afternoon with Dumbledore and his various suggestions.

"What suggestions?" Snape said suspiciously, as Tippy served them tea.

"I've covered the large packs now, at least those I had the vaguest hope of securing. We've done well, but not really well enough. There are so many left that Voldemort could end up commanding. Albus and I have been discussing who we should approach next ..." Lupin rubbed the back of his neck.

"We? He means you, surely," sneered Snape.

"Yes, yes, he does," Lupin said. But he looked so drawn. "We had a discussion about withdrawing me from Wolfsbane ..."

"NO!" Snape shouted, starting from the settee. "No, you need that! It has analgesic properties, antipyretic qualities as well as ..."

"Calm down, Severus," Lupin said calmly, pulling him back to sit. "I've told him it's out of the question. Apart from anything else, I can never endanger you. Look – ah – look what I did to you the last time I was without Wolfsbane." Lupin closed his eyes against the memory.

"In fairness, you had been tortured ..." Snape started, holding Lupin's hands.

"Nevertheless. It must not happen again," Lupin said firmly. "I've told Albus I would be prepared to go to the other packs even though I think it will be pointless. I've also suggested that I try to trace the lone wolves or the small town groups, not really packs. I think that may be more productive. Maybe."

"You don't think so at all, do you?"

Lupin looked at Snape. His look told Snape he had guessed correctly, but he also knew Lupin couldn't bear to refuse Dumbledore, the man who had allowed Lupin his beloved education when no other would have done. As much as Snape blessed Dumbledore for it, he hated him for taking advantage of Lupin's loyalty.

Lupin continued, "I think ... in all honesty ... we should consolidate what we have. Those left over?" Lupin shrugged sadly. "They're twisted by maltreatment in the Wizarding world. They're Greyback's – through and through." Lupin held on to Snape's arms as they held him.

"You don't want to go, do you?" Snape said softly.

"No, Severus, I don't. But I mustn't be such a coward. At least, I will have you waiting for me." They held each other silently for a while, and Snape kissed the crown of Lupin's head.

"Except when I have to do rat duty," Snape said, as lightly as he could, hoping to lift some of Lupin's melancholy, and some of the weight of his own, if the truth were told.

"Yes, rat duty. But, it might work out well enough, Severus. Albus also wants me to spend as much time as possible at the Burrow this summer to keep an eye on Harry, now Voldemort's out in the open."

"He doesn't want much, does he?" Snape said, sourly.

"He's encouraging all the Order members to meet there informally as often as possible."

"Not all ..." Snape said curtly.

In honesty, Snape couldn't say that he minded. He didn't. He couldn't imagine the hell that a small houseful of Weasleys would be like. Anyway, he didn't want yet another place where he had to hide his feelings all the time. His whole life now seemed to revolve around denying everything he held dear to either the Dark Lord or the other members of the Order. The only time he could be himself was here in this flat with this man. The only people who knew of their bonding: Albus, Moody, Bill Weasley and their house-elf. He found it hurt his heart the longer it went on and the more restricted they had to be.

"No, no, I suppose not all," Lupin agreed, wrapping one arm around Snape. "He's been trying to encourage Tonks there too. She's become very withdrawn. Barely morphs at all anymore. Hardly surprising, I suppose. It must be very difficult to cope with, especially as she'd hidden her mating from so many."

"Question has to be, surely, why she hid it in the first place, don't you think?" Snape said, acidly.

"I'm sure she suffers terribly for it every day, Severus," Lupin said mildly. Snape felt a small flush in his cheeks at the reproof. "Think of how much she has probably had to put up with: her mother a notorious Black, but denounced as a blood traitor; her father, a Muggle-born _and_ she's a Metamorphagus. And you know how our society treats shape-shifters. I don't doubt for one minute that she loved David very dearly, but just perhaps, that public acknowledgement on top of everything else was just one step too far. Believe me, Severus. There's only so much opprobrium a person can cope with." Lupin shifted and pulled Snape closer to himself. "I dare say she thought she had all the time in the world. Plenty of time to take, perhaps to get her parents used to David, to the idea of no grandchildren ..."

"Why no grandchildren?" Snape interrupted, moving slightly away to look at Lupin. "There's the _Electio_ potion, after all. It worked for Jasper and Amelie."

"But they no longer know ..." Lupin broke off, and squeezed his eyes shut, "... Tonks," he corrected, "no longer knows of the potion or that you, my mate, made that potion."

"How do you suppose David felt about ... about her reticence to acknowledge him?" Snape ventured after a while.

"I expect he tried to be understanding. Shall we say that people ... like me ... well, we all understand what it's like to be rejected somewhere along the line. It won't have been something that hadn't happened to him before. I'm sure just to have had a witch like Tonks as his mate would have made him very proud and happy. Just to have a mate for us is more than we ever hope for," Lupin said sadly and stroked Snape's hair back. Snape closed his eyes, concentrating on the feel of Lupin's hands in his hair.

"And now, Severus," Lupin said. "Tell me why you are so troubled."

"I have not said so," Snape said evasively.

"And I don't know you better than that by now?" Lupin smiled. "Does your master ask too much of you again?"

Snape stared ahead. This, he could answer quite honestly. "Yes, Remus. My master asks too much of me. It becomes difficult to bear."

"My poor Severus," Lupin said softly, and rubbed his head against Snape's hair. "Are you able to share the burden with me?"

Such a simple question, and yet the flood of emotion Snape felt threatened to overwhelm him. If Remus could know - if he could just know - perhaps Snape could sleep. How long would Dumbledore make him wait to tell him? Yes, his master really did ask too much of him.

"I cannot," he said, his voice barely audible. "But I hope to be able to. Soon."

Lupin increased his hold on Snape and nuzzled into the back of his neck and began to kiss it, softly at first, then urgently, squeezing Snape's upper arms. That was all it took for the mood to shift as the waxing of the moon and their absence from each other for weeks fuelled both men's passions instantly and Snape gasped "Yes," to the insistent kisses that ignited his desire painfully.

Lupin quickly removed his own clothes, as Snape watched him hungrily. Then Lupin sat back down and pushed Snape forward slightly and undid the buttons on his robe and drew it slowly down Snape's bare shoulders until it pooled at his elbows.

"Merlin, Severus," Lupin whispered as he feathered the back of Snape's neck with kisses and stroked the palms of his hands over Snape's shoulders and caressed the bonding circlet on his upper arm, as Snape let his head fall back. "I love the summer holidays!"

Snape just managed to smile: Lupin was so very visual in his passions. But all Snape cared about now was what Lupin was making his body feel as he covered Snape's back in kisses and bites, making him arch, as his hands clutched Snape's chest and stomach. He was immersed in desire so thick so quickly, he could scarcely believe it. Every touch of Lupin's seemed to scorch him. He arched back further, his arms reaching behind him for Lupin, groaning loudly as Lupin's hands peeled off his robe entirely and then roved lower on Snape's body, grasping him, stroking him, one hand clasping his inner thigh so tightly as the other massaged his balls.

Snape's groan was almost strangled by his own desire as Lupin lifted him so both were on their knees on the floor. Lupin pressed himself against Snape's back, his hand now grasping Snape's too-hard erection as he began to stroke it quite hard and bite at Snape's neck. Snape groaned louder still. It was passionate. It was ardent. It was rough. It was exactly what he wanted right at this moment as his head rolled back onto Lupin's shoulder behind him, and Lupin's other hand grasped him around the waist.

Lupin's hand left Snape's cock to prepare him, and Snape stretched backwards onto Lupin's fingers. He could hear Lupin breathing his name, telling him he was his, his very own. Snape's desire was overwhelming him, pulling at him, drawing on his groin and gut. He wanted this. He _needed_ this. He didn't want to wait – they'd waited too long.

"Remus. Please," he gasped as he grasped Lupin's hair. His breath hitched as he felt Lupin move his hand away and guide himself to Snape, pushing himself in as Snape cried out, his breath catching once more as he felt Lupin sheath himself fully, sharp and hot. Snape braced himself against the settee. "Remus, please!" he repeated, his whole body in need.

Lupin's breath was hot in his ear. "My love," he said hoarsely. "My Severus." He held Snape tightly and, just as well, for Snape was lost to all, lost in the searing heat that pulsed through him with every long, deep thrust into him and every delicious grunt breathed into his ear that matched his own deep noises, gradually increasing as Lupin thrust faster, and Snape began to plead silently as his sweet spot was struck and his colours blossomed behind his eyelids. Snape cried out and pushed back hard for more.

Lupin took him harder, his hand keeping pace just as hard. Snape could barely breathe, as the burning cresting sensation burst through his body and he cried out Lupin's name, coming hard over his hand, followed quickly by Lupin's own hoarse cry of his name as he pumped his own orgasm out and leant across Snape's back, holding his chest. They stayed like this as their breathing steadied and then Lupin gently released his hold on Snape and pulled away, taking them both to lie on the floor, their breathing ragged, but kissing passionately as their ecstasy gradually ebbed away.

Lupin and Snape lay next to each other, their breathing now calm, and their hands loosely entwined. Lupin moved so that he could rest his head on Snape's chest. Snape closed his eyes, feeling more relaxed than he had for weeks as he wrapped Lupin in his arms.

"When we're free, Severus, we shall spend our Sundays in bed, with _The Sunday Prophet_ and a slap-up breakfast. We shall ward the Floo against all callers and just," Lupin sighed heavily, "just be like this together. It will be wonderful."

"How long shall I have the luxury of you to myself before you insist on our idyll being shattered by Lupin junior, may I ask?" Snape said softly, curling a lock of Lupin's hair around his finger, noticing with a sharp pang more grey hair than before.

"Lupin junior. Hmm. I'm not sure I care for that." Lupin tilted his face up to look at Snape. "Have you thought of any names?"

"Zygote? Parasite? Spawn?" drawled Snape.

"Severus," Lupin laughed softly. "You just say those things to annoy me. It won't work. If you don't take me seriously, I shall name Snape minor myself. Let me see ..." Lupin ruminated dramatically.

"Before you deluge me in nonsense, must it be Latin?" Snape deplored.

"Why not? There are fine Latin names for our son," Lupin said, a small contented smile on his face. "We both have Roman names."

"But it's such pureblood nonsense," Snape complained.

"Augustus – exalted. Benedict – blessed. So many wonderful names ..." suggested Lupin, quite engaged in the subject.

"I know, I know. I could even think of a few beautiful ones myself, but ..."

"Such as ... tell me, Severus." Lupin lifted his head from Snape's chest and turned to face him. His face was so animated now. It always was when they talked of their hypothetical child. Snape considered for a while whether to tell Lupin of the name that had come to him so often.

"Lerato."

"I've never heard of it."

"Song of my soul," said Snape, suddenly feeling - exposed.

"But that's beautiful," Lupin whispered. Snape snorted in embarrassment; Lupin laughed.

"It is, yes," Snape relented on seeing Lupin smiling and laughing. It was such a joy that he didn't have the heart to be gruff.

"But it's not my favourite. My favourite name is a simple one, it recognises family and describes my son and his father ..." Snape said quietly.

"What name, Severus?" Lupin whispered, his eyes now fixed with Snape's.

"John."

"My father's name! But it's so plain," Lupin said, his eyes searching Snape's.

"It means 'beloved'," said Snape, as he rubbed his hand softly down Lupin's cheek.

Lupin kissed Snape's mouth gently and he lay back down next to Snape and enveloped himself in Snape's arms once more. "It's perfect."

oooOOOooo

Yet again, Lupin had gone to the Burrow so Snape took the opportunity to spend time at Spinner's End. It appalled him that his time was wasted in this way. It was as well that all the Death Eaters knew Dumbledore called private meetings with Snape as well as Order meetings. It gave Snape plenty of opportunity to leave Pettigrew, but he knew he had to be careful. As much as he wanted to spend all his time with Lupin, his absences had to be believable.

As well as his usual summer brewing for the hospital wing, Snape made a great show when he was there of working on the Muggle-murdering poison. Pettigrew was competent enough at potions, but he had nothing like the expertise required to identify the myriad tiny flaws Snape had set for himself to prevent himself perfecting the potion.

Snape set Pettigrew to working on infirmary potions to keep him out of his hair. Oddly, the rat worked assiduously and the salves and potions he produced were all acceptable. Snape could only assume Pettigrew wanted to keep in Snape's good graces so the Dark Lord's attention would not be drawn to him. Snape understood, but had no pity for him. When the time was right, he would happily see the Dark Lord torture him, although he would never confess it to Lupin, who tried to find Lightness in the Darkest of places.

/

" _Don't you understand, Severus?" Lupin said, carding his fingers through Snape's hair as they lay together that morning._

" _No," Snape said simply. "I don't."_

" _Peter was our friend. For all those years: we four, together."_

" _As if I didn't remember that," Snape interrupted sourly. Lupin squeezed him affectionately._

" _Even after we left school, we all saw each other, all the time. James and Lily got married, but we would still all go over to each others' digs for dinner, meet up at weekends, work in the Order. I mean, all the time ... I don't understand how it happened that Peter betrayed James and Lily. Why he felt the need. We must have done something that drove him to Voldemort. Turned him against us somehow ..."_

_Snape raised himself up onto one elbow and stared at Lupin incredulously._

" _Are you actually trying to blame yourself for his treachery?" he asked. "Is it not possible the little shit is purely just that? He turned because he wanted to be on the winning side at any cost?"_

" _I find it hard to believe, Severus, that's all. Just so hard," Lupin said sadly._

" _Sometimes, Remus," Snape sighed. "Sometimes, you just have to believe it."_

oooOOOooo

Snape sat in Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore paced as he told Snape of Lupin's report to him of his trip to Diagon Alley with the Weasleys and Potter.

"The taking of Ollivander worries me, Severus. I do not think he has been murdered. I have an idea he may be seeking an answer to one question in particular. See what you can find out." Snape pondered what Ollivander might know that the Dark Lord sought. Potter and the Dark Lord's wands' connection perhaps? But he knew if Dumbledore had not offered the information, he would not give it if Snape asked.

"If he has one wandmaker – he may try for another. Gregorovitch, perhaps. There are others but not as fine." As Dumbledore turned away, he turned back quickly, as if another thought had struck him. He raised his forefinger. "If he's doing what I think, there is one wandmaker he absolutely must not get his hands on, Severus. It would be well to visit Idris to see how things are faring. We'll speak to Remus about it after the full moon."

oooOOOooo

Snape was being called more and more often. Now the Dark Lord was revealed, his plans were speeding on apace. Dementors were free to attack anyone without the Dark Mark and the weather reflected the atmosphere they infected and it chilled the soul. If Snape had not known this was July, he would have denied it was possible.

In the five days preceding the full moon that he had wanted to be with Lupin, he had so far only managed two days, the others returning to Spinner's End or to the Dark Lord, with Lupin visiting the Burrow or seeking out lone wolves in London.

But each night, they returned to be together, their love-making becoming ever more urgent as the full moon approached; ever more desperate as their missions seemed to hollow them out. Their minds and bodies craved each other, the closeness and the brightness of touch.

Finally, today was the full moon. Snape had grown to worship what the full moon promised him: it was his day to care for Lupin, to be taken in the manner of the wolf that he found so cathartic and yearned for. After that, it would be his time to guard and protect and to love the man he loved more than his own life. It was their most passionate time; a time he knew they shared in common with no-one.

But, as the sun rose on that bleak day, misty and cold, the Dark Mark had burned, bright and sharp. With earnest promises to Lupin to return before moonset, Snape had answered.

The Dark Lord summoned them all and regaled them in exquisite detail how he had tracked down Karkaroff, tortured him physically with Cutting and Whipping Curses, with fire and water, then followed with the Cruciatus and Legilimency until Karkaroff had begged for death. The Dark Lord had not given it to him. Not for a very long time at least.

He told his Death Eaters, to great acclaim, that he had toyed with the idea of bringing Karkaroff's shell back for them to see how he wrought his displeasure on the fallen acolyte. But he did not wish to sully his robe.

The Dark Lord was pleased. He had closed the gap in his inner circle. For good.

All day, he had taken reports of death and torture, including Florean Fortescue (Snape heard with some distress), and issued orders, made demands and tortured those who did not comply. Offerings of blood traitors and Muggle-borns were brought before him, and Snape realised with horror that the Dark Lord intended this Death Eaters to remain whilst he took his pleasure in torturing these prisoners.

Time was ticking on and Snape was powerless to do anything other than worry. He could only console himself that it was summer so moonrise would be late. He had to find a way of procuring his release. Snape had not intended his anxiety to show, but he noticed Pettigrew watching him, as he cowered nearby, trying to make his small frame smaller still, so clearly wishing to be anywhere but where he was. _Perhaps,_ Snape thought. He settled on a plan, and shuffled himself nervously in the sight of Yaxley.

"What is the matter with you?" Yaxley hissed.

"I have the Dark Lord's poison at a critical stage. It must be tended at the full moon. I must find a way to tell him," Snape said, his calm exterior covering his real and ever-growing horror, as he felt the first familiar small pull in his gut.

"You must tell him! He wants that poison!" Yaxley spat. Snape had no intention of provoking the Dark Lord, but he knew someone else had no such good sense ...

"My Lord, my Lord!" Pettigrew bowed and scraped towards the Dark Lord, who spun around towards the interruption, his face twisted in fury and hatred.

"What is it, Wormtail?" the Dark Lord hissed, his red eyes alight with malice.

"The poison – needs to be overseen - full moon …" Pettigrew grovelled, his silver hand held protectively, but so pointlessly, over his face.

 _Weak little wretch,_ Snape thought with some satisfaction, balling his now slightly trembling fists in his robe.

"My Lord," Snape intervened sharply, bowing low. "I beg your indulgence. I realise the importance of this meeting. It is correct that I need to tend my latest experiments but I do not need to leave, unless you permit it. I can easily start again …"

"NO! No, Severus." _(Pat.)_ "I do not wish your experiments to spoil. They are vital to our mission. And Wormtail?"

"He's is _not_ required, my Lord," Snape said smoothly. "I need no shredding of shrivelfigs this night, and certainly not the scratching of rats to distract me."

Had it been any other person seeking escape from the Dark Lord's 'festivities', Snape might have assisted, but not Wormtail. He may have unwittingly assisted Snape's exit, but it was only for his own relief after all.

"Get back in place, Wormtail!" the Dark Lord hissed, twisting his wand sharply, making Pettigrew yelp with pain and cower as he took his place with a hateful look at Snape.

"Go now, Severus."

Snape nodded and he strode steadily with his head held high, although his stomach was starting to turn over. Only once he knew he was out of sight did he rush to get away from the wards of the run-down manor hall. As he did so, he felt his skin turn clammy and, suddenly, his stomach crampt mercilessly and he fell onto his hands and knees in the dirt in agony.

Too late! _Remus!_ Snape's mind flooded with anguish that Lupin would be transforming with the same pain that Snape now had on top of all the rest of his pain. He tried to stand to Apparate but he began to vomit violently instead as his skin broke into heavy sweating.

Drawing harsh and costly breaths, he managed to call, "Tippy."

The small elf Apparated to his side as soon as her name left his lips, took his hand wordlessly and Apparated him to the flat, straight to Remus's side.

The tawny wolf lay on its side, long soulful whines escaping his throat, his coat matted with blood and broken bones protruding as convulsions wracked his body. Snape reached out his shaking hands, and as they contacted the wolf's body, their convulsions began to ease, degree by degree, until the whines became pitiful whimpers.

Snape got to his knees shakily, his tremors ceasing slowly. He tried to take in the damage to Lupin, his hands hovering over the bloodied lupine form. He made calming noises to Lupin as he squashed his own fears down. Lupin was in his wolf form. He was dumbfounded by the damage. He didn't know the right way to heal it. As he cleaned away the blood with his wand, he recalled ...

"Tippy," he said to the house-elf, who he was startled to see was still standing right next to him, worrying at her tunic. "Go to my quarters at Hogwarts. There is a book on my table. _Grey's Complete Lycanthrope._ Bring it to me."

Snape looked into Lupin's beseeching golden eyes, trying to ignore the pitiful whimpers but he could not – each whimper seem to drill painfully into his consciousness, hurting him physically.

"I am here now, beloved. Soon, I will be able to help you soon," Snape said softly, gently stroking the crown of the wolf's head.

Within seconds, Tippy had returned with the compendious volume almost as big as she was, and set it out at his side, opening it at its contents page. Snape quickly scanned the contents page and found the section on anatomy. His agile mind quickly took in all the plates showing the skeleton and musculature and network of blood vessels, tracing over the plates with one long finger as he matched up bones from the plates with those that protruded from Lupin's coat. Then he set to work stemming the bleeding first from all the wounds he found through wand diagnosis.

Tippy dropped to her knobbly knees beside him and held the book open, resting it on her lap so Snape didn't have to bend too far, and Snape carefully fused the broken bones, and any torn muscles around them, listening all the time for any change in Lupin's whimpering. With each injury that was healed, he looked into Lupin's eyes for reassurance, but Lupin could no more give it in his this form than in his human form, for how was he to know if Snape had healed all the damage correctly? He worked tirelessly until every tear, rip and break had been healed. The wolf had ceased to whimper and Snape cradled Lupin's snout in his hand, locking his eyes with the wolf's.

"Do you have pain anywhere at all?"

_No Severus. But I ache, and I'm so very tired._

Snape stroked the wolf's coat and moved himself so Lupin could rest his head and forepaws on Snape's lap.

Ever anticipating them, Tippy brought the settee forward so that Snape could rest his back against it and, as he stroked the crest and back of the wolf, Tippy cleaned the blood from the carpet and then brought water for the wolf and a chamomile tea for Snape.

As Snape felt his muscles start to un-tense in his stomach, shoulders and legs, even in his wand hand, he traced small circles on the top of the wolf's head, both of them too worn out to speak. He watched the house-elf work cleaning quietly around them, even picking up Snape's discarded Death Eater mask as if it were no more than a teacup or a napkin and cleaning it, seeming not to want to leave them.

"Did you know?" Snape asked her. "Did you know Master Lupin is a werewolf?"

"Oh yes, Professor Snape sir. House-elves know what other beings are. Tippy has always known," Tippy replied. Snape was astounded. He did not know why, but he had always assumed that Tippy had not known. It was foolish of him to have assumed anything.

"Do house-elves fear werewolves?" he asked.

"No, Professor Snape. The werewolf in Master Lupin does not hunt the house-elf. The werewolf hunts the human only."

Snape stared at the little elf for a long time as he considered how accepting these exceptionally magical beings were of each other. It seemed to him that it was only the human that completely refused to accept _otherness_ in any other being. He gave Tippy a small smile.

"Will you help me move Master Lupin please?" asked Snape, and Tippy eagerly nodded, delighted to assist, and she Levitated the sleeping wolf smoothly to the bedroom as Snape stretched out his legs for his crampt muscles and aching bones and then Summoned a blanket for Lupin to rest upon.

"Professor Snape should let Tippy clean his ceremonial robe," Tippy said, quite matter-of-factly, holding out her hands for it. It jarred with Snape that Tippy clearly understood more about where he went than he had ever realised. He wondered just how much and found himself feeling raw once more. Once he had passed over his Death Eater robes, Tippy left and Snape crawled onto the bed, checking once more that there was no other injury to Lupin's wolf form.

Tippy only came back into their bedroom once more that night to give Snape a Calming Draught. He hadn't thought of it until the little elf presented him with the phial and he saw how violently his hands were still shaking.

Of course they were. He drew his shaking hands over his face, rasping his stubble. The night's events had terrified him. The Dark Lord could call on Snape at any time. It shouldn't be an issue. Except for the full moon. Lupin had Claimed him. The Claim commanded them to be together at the full moon. How could this damage to Lupin be avoided if the Dark Lord caught him again? He wracked his brains, but he didn't know and it shaken him very badly.

Snape thanked Tippy and drank only so much of the Draught as needed for a couple of hours' rest. He curled himself around the sleeping wolf, and let the Draught take away his senses for a short time.

Tomorrow, they would think on it. It would look better tomorrow.

.

* * *

**A/N:** **John – In some circles, it means "beloved" for St. John the Beloved, although technically, the name itself means "God is gracious" but I'm sacrificing accuracy for poetry!**


	78. Cruel Summer

As soon as Lupin's transformation had finished, Snape checked him for injuries and then administered a sleeping draught to ensure Lupin slept. Exhausted himself, but unable to calm his mind, Snape paced the drawing room.

Despite the pristine condition of the room after Tippy's exemplary cleaning, in Snape's mind's eye he saw the wolf lying in a puddle of blood, the protuberance of bones from the wolf's coat, and heard the pitiful whimpers. The memories made him flinch.

What had happened last night must not happen again. He had sworn to protect Lupin. He must not be the cause of injury and pain to him. In future, even if the Dark Lord called Snape at the full moon, he would not go. He could try to rely on that blasted potion, but he had a better excuse and one with which Pettigrew couldn't interfere: Order meetings. Yes, that was what he would use. And if the Dark Lord chose to punish him for non-attendance? Snape inhaled deeply.

Snape didn't care. Better him than Lupin. He had sworn.

oooOOOooo

Snape sat before Dumbledore and repeated his incantations to keep the trapped curse at bay as Dumbledore took a further draught of _Spiritus Vitae_. He would need to do this now, every twenty-eight days to imbue Dumbledore with enough strength to carry on. They both knew Snape could not stop the progress of the curse, but he used all his skill to try to keep it locked. As he worked, Dumbledore stayed silent, much to Snape's relief.

When Snape had arrived, Dumbledore had asked how both he and Lupin were and if Lupin was yet well enough to set out on his latest mission. Had it been anyone else, Snape would not have confided the horror of the last full moon, but Dumbledore had seen its effects before and maybe, with all his experience, Snape thought that – just perhaps - he might know of a solution. Dumbledore listened in silence as Snape described the events.

"This is terrible," Dumbledore said, drawing up the sleeve of his robe in preparation for Snape's casting. "The danger to both of you is beyond anything I had realised. I will give it some thought, Severus. There must be something that can be done to assure the safety of you both.

"It's very simple, Albus. If there is nothing else to be done, I will ensure that I am with him. The odds must be in my favour. After all, it is only once every twenty-nine days, give or take."

"I think you underestimate your master's growing fervour. He calls you more often than he ever has, and once I am gone …"

Snape drew his breath sharply through his teeth and turned away. He did not want to talk about this terrible thing Dumbledore had asked of him.

"After I'm gone," Dumbledore repeated, his tone commanding, "your place with Voldemort will be assured. None will ever query your loyalty again, Severus. But it also means he will expect his most trusted advisor at his side more often." Dumbledore stroked his beard in contemplation. "Contingency plans must be made so you do not need to fear the full moon and how ill it can make you …"

"That is not what I fear, Albus! You misunderstand completely. I could pass my own illness off as anything – dragon pox, potion fever …" Snape waved his hand dismissively. "But I cannot allow Remus to be hurt," he said softly as his shoulders slumped.

"I understand. Plans must be made for Remus's safety," Dumbledore said softly and held his hand forward for Snape to cast.

Now, the casting was done, Dumbledore had ordered tea for them both and Snape reported fully on all that had happened at the meeting until he had had to leave. When he finished, Dumbledore sipped his tea, regarding Snape over his glasses. Snape found himself uncomfortable under his gaze – unusually so. After a time, Dumbledore spoke.

"I have news for you," Dumbledore said, his eyes intent on Snape's reaction. "I have managed to find Horace."

Snape's eyes narrowed. He had badgered Dumbledore for years to find Slughorn to take over the Potions position so he could take the Defence post, but Dumbledore had always refused, stating he had the Potions master he required and the Defence post was too dangerous. Lately, the Dark Lord had tried to find Slughorn to co-opt him into the Muggle-murdering poison. His Death Eaters had been unsuccessful, and Slughorn had eluded them. But now Dumbledore knew his own time was limited, he had found him quickly enough. Snape wasn't sure what he made of that.

"Managed?" sneered Snape. "I do believe this is the first time you have looked."

"That may well be so, Severus," Dumbledore said, with a small smile. "However, the fact remains that I have found him." Dumbledore settled back in his chair.

"And?" Snape scowled at Dumbledore's procrastination. "Will he return?"

Dumbledore looked at Snape for a long time, and Snape thought he discerned a certain sadness in the look he was given. He didn't need Dumbledore's pity for what he was putting Snape through. He felt the familiar burn of anger.

"Yes, Severus. Horace returns as the school's Potion master," said Dumbledore heavily. He took another sip of tea. "So ... you will have the Defence post at last. Does it make you happy?"

"Happy that I have the position for no longer than this year because by the end of it, you will be dead and I will either be in Azkaban or headmaster of this school?" Snape spat as he stood suddenly and kicked back chair, its legs scraping on the floor as he turned away from Dumbledore, holding his forehead, as sadness and fear warred in him to surface.

"I am sorry, Severus. That was ill-considered of me," Dumbledore said soothingly. "There is, of course, a reason that I, for one, am satisfied that you will be in that post. Now more than ever the students of this school need proper instruction in Defence against the Dark Arts. None of my staff has the experience that you have to impart to them. You are the teacher for that job this year. It is imperative the children learn to defend themselves properly. Please do not think I do not know how hard this year will be for you. I know you have to contend with more than most could ever understand, and I trust no-one as I trust you."

"It could be made easier for me, Albus," Snape said earnestly, turning swiftly to face him. "Let me take Remus into this confidence."

"Severus, please." Dumbledore held up his hand to silence Snape, making him ball his fists into his robes in frustration. "If any indication of this plan of ours reaches Voldemort, the whole plan will be ruined ..."

"You don't trust Remus ..." Snape interjected.

"Of course, I trust Remus. The work he does with the packs is of the utmost importance. We are very lucky to have him. But he is not the Occlumens you are to hide this if he were to be caught again."

"I have been training Remus since we bonded. He is a fine Occlumens now! He resisted Voldemort before; he could again," Snape countered.

"Do you not think his work is enough for him without this as well? Don't you think it will add to his burdens?" Dumbledore reasoned, eyeing Snape shrewdly.

Snape's breath was snatched away. Of course, he would never wittingly add to Lupin's burdens. He blinked in confusion. Was he being unreasonable to want to share this? Would he be endangering Lupin? His stomach turned over as he cast around himself, as if searching for the right answer, but one thing he did know for certain.

"Albus," Snape pleaded, his hands grasping the back of his chair, desperate in his worry. "If I kill you, how do you think Remus will take that if he doesn't know of the plan? Do you think that will make him a better spy in the packs if such a thing is withheld from him?"

"Be patient, Severus, and trust me," Dumbledore held out his hands pacifically. "I am beginning to formulate a plan. Remus will be looked after. Do not worry."

oooOOOooo

Of course he worried. Snape had begun to worry almost constantly. Lupin was away in Edinburgh tracking down several lone wolves to try to convince them to make their way to Idris. Lupin had thought that, in many ways, these would be the hardest – these men and women who had no-one to call family or pack – who begged, borrowed, stole or even killed just to survive. These men and women lived on the Muggle streets, and hated the Wizarding world that had turned on them, hated particularly people like Lupin who tried to live as wizards.

Worrying still, he perched on his high stool at his work bench in the cellar at Spinner's End. The traitor, Pettigrew leant over the second bench with ingredients for which Snape had given him cursory preparation instructions. They worked in resentful silence, as always.

The Dark Lord had ordered Snape to make batches of Wolfsbane for Greyback and several of his most favoured pack members. The Dark Lord had missions for them and wanted them at the full moon for missions which required their human minds. He had not yet found out what the Dark Lord intended them to do, but he knew there were some members of the Wizengamot who the Dark Lord had targeted for 'correction'. The best Snape could do at present was to brew the potion diligently and, on presentation of it, obtain the rest of the information.

Of course, he used Damokles's instructions, rather than his own refinements. The original instructions had none of the pain-killers, anti-inflammatory properties or fever-reducers that Snape had added. In fact, if he added the merest differential in aconite, he could cripple a werewolf.

He had questioned Pettigrew subtly to discern his knowledge of this potion. It was scant. Snape was not surprised. Pettigrew had been a rat for so many years, he would have missed the huge advance this potion represented.

Snape reproduced the recipe with the microscopic alteration to the amount of aconite to sicken the werewolf, and a reduction in the steeping time for the herb so it retained enough toxicity to weaken the wolf form. It was delicately and deftly done, if he said so himself. He oversaw Pettigrew's brewing, admitting that the small man was performing well. Needless to say, Snape himself brewed Lupin's Wolfsbane away from Pettigrew at Hogwarts.

As Snape added a well-judged slither of the skin of the claw of a wyvern to the final stage of a large cauldron of his post-Cruciatus potion, he realised Pettigrew was muttering.

"Are you talking to yourself, Pettigrew?" he snapped.

Pettigrew shuffled uncomfortably and stole a quick look at Snape.

"Just saying it's an amazing invention. For them. You know. Werewolves."

Snape grunted, very much wishing his brewing facilities were not being used for Greyback and his cronies. It was easy to maintain Death Eater prejudices when speaking of the murderous animal responsible for Lupin's contagion. "They don't deserve this mercy. They're just beasts, after all."

Pettigrew mumbled something under his breath.

"What did you say?" spat Snape, cross that Pettigrew was disturbing his concentration.

"I said not all pure-blood wizards deserve any mercy either!"

Snape's eyebrows shot up at Pettigrew's flash of backbone.

"Indeed?" Snape challenged. "Is this insurrection in the ranks, Pettigrew? Does our calling shame your principles, you who led his school friend and wife to their deaths? Killed twelve Muggles and framed Sirius Black for your crimes. That kind of wizard doesn't deserve mercy, perhaps?" said Snape, silkily.

"I hated them. They deserved it!" Pettigrew spat through, his expression hateful, his hand clenched around the paring knife in his hand.

The vehemence with which Pettigrew said it startled Snape. He regarded Pettigrew coolly who seemed to shrink under his gaze and then turned his attention back to his ingredients.

"You followed them around adoringly."

"Th **e** y took advantage of me. All the time."

"All of them? Potter and Lupin too?"

Pettigrew didn't answer but Snape saw the fire in Pettigrew's eyes. What was this? Snape found himself now very intrigued indeed.

"Oh?" Snape said lightly. "I know all about Black. You must be glad he's dead as well then," Snape said conversationally, as he adjusted several pipettes on his brewing line and quickly looked at Pettigrew to see if he would talk. Pettigrew's chopping of flobberworms became faster as his eyes flashed.

"I wish I'd done it myself!" the small man declared. "He ruined everything for me. Everything!"

Snape carried on making minute adjustments as he listened to the small man breathe heavily in remembered offence. Snape said nothing. Sometimes, saying nothing was the best bait to injudicious confessions that he knew.

"I loved him!" declared Pettigrew suddenly.

Snape dropped one of his pipettes as he stared at Pettigrew, his eyebrows high in astonishment.

"Who? Black?" he asked, astounded. Pettigrew snorted like a pig. Oh, why had Snape never seen it? The adoration. The fawning. It was all there. It had never crossed his mind.

"No, not Sirius," laughed Pettigrew, his laugh a rattle, rusty from disuse. "Remus."

Snape stared at Pettigrew, his own jealous creature ready to strike the small man down for even thinking it of his mate, his rational brain struggling with what he now heard.

"Lupin?" queried Snape softly, and quickly added to cover his own confusion: "The werewolf?"

Suddenly, the small man looked miserable. "It never made a difference to me that Remus was a werewolf. But he never looked at me that way."

"You admired him from afar?" sneered Snape.

"You can sneer all you like, Snape. I know you hated Remus, but you didn't know him," the small man snapped, and then cringed again. "It was easy to admire Sirius and James. Nobody thought twice about me following them around, but it was Remus I wanted to be near. He was always so kind to me. Saw me as worthwhile when no-one else did."

 _Saw me as worthwhile when no-one else did._ Snape looked away from Pettigrew, his heart suddenly touched by such an admirable description of Lupin.

"Did you ever tell Lupin of your great amour?" asked Snape, snidely, keeping his face averted.

"No. No, of course not," Pettigrew said, ignoring the barb, once more intent on his work as he diced a porcupine liver. "At school, he had a boyfriend in Ravenclaw, Joshua Hopkirk. Tall and dark." Pettigrew snorted again. "I would never have stood a chance. I thought if I said nothing, and just hung around, perhaps, one day, I might stand a chance. It was hard though. To be me ... with them."

"Black and Potter?" encouraged Snape.

"Yes. It was the price I paid. There were two other boys in our dorm. Quiet boys. I probably would have been better off with them, but I wanted ... well. You know now. I was never really a Marauder. Not really. I was just a hanger-on. Every idea I ever had was ignored. Every suggestion, derided. But every group needs a butt of their jokes. Every prankster needs a dummy to experiment on. Well, that was me."

"Didn't Lupin stop them?"

"Oh, always," Pettigrew said, and Snape detected a dreamy quality to that answer. He struggled to suppress the urge to hex the man. Pettigrew continued, oblivious to Snape's disgust. "But he wasn't there all the time. And if it wasn't them, it would have been someone else. There would always be someone else. With them, even if they weren't kind to me, they stopped others being unkind to me. Or worse."

"You were their metaphorical punch bag, no-one else's?" Snape supplied, fascinated that he felt a worm of sympathy in spite of his ever-growing revulsion and irrational jealousy.

Now Pettigrew turned to him, his watery blue eyes wide. He nodded and then turned back, but he didn't continue working. He clasped his hands in front of himself on the bench and stared at them sadly.

"Then it seemed we walked straight from school into the war. James married Lily and they set up home. The three of us would be there practically every night. James and Sirius started training as Aurors, Lily began her Healer's training and I went to work in the Ministry. Remus," Pettigrew sighed, "Remus could find nothing permanent. He took up tutoring on a part-time basis just to make ends meet. I was so sad for him. He was so capable and bright. But there was no way he could lie about his condition. The war worsened. The Dark Lord's followers were infiltrating the Ministry. Dumbledore formed the Order. We all joined. Did what we could.

"Then I was approached by Augustus Rookwood, casually at first." Pettigrew put his head in his hands. "I didn't know, you see, that he was one of the Dark Lord's followers, but he knew I was in the Order. He befriended me. I was surprised at the time that someone like him – senior – you know - respected in the Ministry - would be interested in me. He asked me out. I was flattered, completely taken in. I thought he was so understanding making sure I never missed an evening with my friends. Always interested in everything about them."

Pettigrew laughed a sour laugh. "Oh yes, he was very keen that I keep my friends." He signed again. Snape remembered Rookwood reporting to the Dark Lord his news from his 'inside source'. Snape had had no idea it was Pettigrew. Snape listened intently and began to realise that Pettigrew was unburdening himself for the first time in all these years. He remained silent as he watched Pettigrew steel himself further.

"Once I had," Pettigrew's voice became quieter now, "committed, if you like, to Augustus, he started talking to me about the Dark Lord, how he stood for magic, for wizards. That he was misrepresented by Dumbledore and the like because they didn't understand him. Augustus took it slowly. I met others who worked at the Ministry who thought the same, Wilkes, Yaxley. Of course, I also knew some from school. Only after months did Augustus say I should meet the Dark Lord. I was too afraid, but he didn't push me. I didn't know what he was then. I thought he really ... cared for me."

Pettigrew picked up his paring knife and scraped his prepared ingredients into his cauldron and then checked the miniature cauldron next to it, bubbling away noisily.

"I never stopped loving Remus though, but I knew I never stood a chance with him. I really only stayed friends with the others after school so I could be near him," Pettigrew continued, "but I saw him less and less. Dumbledore was sending him on missions. I missed him. Then, one evening, I went round to James and Lily's, Sirius arrived after me. As soon as he saw me, he started on me that he's seen me out with Augustus and didn't I know that he was just a middle-aged faggot who liked to pick up ugly queer boys like me? Everyone knew about him in the Ministry. Didn't I have any self-respect? He laughed as if it was just the best joke, and James did too."

"And Lily?" asked Snape, horrified.

"What?" Pettigrew turned suddenly, reminded that Snape was there. He recovered his composure and then he continued. "No. She was upstairs putting Harry down. Then ... then Sirius said that at least I must have realised I'd set my sights too high ogling Remus all the time, and perhaps now I'd stop that because I made him sick. That's what he said. I made him sick to his stomach.

"I was hurt. I was embarrassed. I denied it. Sirius challenged me. Why then was I always looking at him? That's when I did it. I was so desperate for them not to start on me, I said that I was watching Remus because he was different now. I wasn't sure of him. I didn't trust him." Pettigrew sniffed as he reduced the heat on the miniature cauldron.

"Then I stormed out. I got home. I threw up. For every time Remus had stuck up for me, look how I had repaid him just to stop them laughing at me. I didn't go around for a long time after that although Lily used to ask me. I carried on seeing Augustus. He was very keen that I made up with them. I didn't understand why at the time. I thought he was being kind." Pettigrew snorted in derision once more.

"Then, a while later, Sirius came to see me at work. Asked me to forgive him. Said I had been right. Remus wasn't to be trusted. Remus wouldn't tell them what he was doing. Claimed it was secret. He was short-tempered with them. They didn't believe him. Please would I come back."

Suddenly, the small man looked even smaller as if the weight of the recollection pressed in on him.

"After all this time, they wanted me as a friend. Wanted me, instead of Remus. All I wanted was Remus, not them. I said I'd think about it. I told Augustus and he encouraged me to go. He said I must forgive them or it would be my lifelong regret. So, I did. They welcomed me but I didn't feel right anymore. Remus was hardly ever there. Sirius had ruined everything. In time, Augustus asked me again to meet the Dark Lord. This time, I agreed. He told me that if I supported him, I would be respected. I would be a wizard amongst wizards. No blood traitors would demean me. I would have a position of power ..."

"You believed him?" asked Snape.

"Didn't you?" Pettigrew retorted simply. "By now, the Dark Lord had heard part of the Prophecy. He wanted the Potters. He promised me anything. Anything at all if I could give them to him. Who would have thought that it would be that lie I told to stop their laughter that would mean Sirius would choose me to be their Secret Keeper?" Pettigrew's mouth was twisted now in an ugly sneer of hatred.

"Yes, I believed what the Dark Lord promised me. I was seduced by it. I wanted it. I was promised whatever spoils I wanted. I knew exactly what spoils I wanted ..."

Snape was watching Pettigrew openly now, horrified by what he was hearing. He didn't even try to conceal his emotions, appalled by the shining of tears in the eyes of the small man as he made the reduction of squid ink. Pettigrew didn't look in Snape's direction. It was almost as if Snape himself was not there and Pettigrew was grateful to have the chance to talk. He probably rarely had the chance to talk to anyone anymore.

Lupin had told him Black had said Pettigrew had just wanted the protection of the biggest bully in the playground. He wondered if Black had ever realised the fault was his very own – he was the bully Pettigrew ran from when he joined the Dark Lord.

Snape stared at Pettigrew at while longer, his revulsion still boiling inside him, and then and then he asked.

"And those spoils were?" asked Snape, his tone deadly, feeling the heat of anger rising up the sides of his face as his guts roiled.

Pettigrew looked up, and cocked his head as if the answer was obvious. "Why, Remus, of course."

"You foul, loathsome excuse for a wizard, Pettigrew! You disgust me," Snape barked as he sent a sharp hex to Pettigrew's face, making him squeal. Snape whirled around and stalked from the cellar in fury.

He took two stairs at a time and then strode to his room, breathing so hard it hurt as he slammed the door shut and leant against it. Of course, Pettigrew would think Snape was disgusted by his professed love for a werewolf; there was no way Pettigrew could ever guess that same werewolf was bonded to Snape.

But that wasn't what had disturbed Snape so. Oh no. It was knowledge that he shared his foolish motivations with a wretch like Pettigrew. It was the vision that, had Lily not died for the boy, the Dark Lord victorious would have presented Lily to Snape, and Remus to Pettigrew. The wrongness of Snape's teenaged morality hit him full force once again as he slid down the door, his face hidden in his hands, his anguish for Lily renewed.

oooOOOooo

There was an old Muggle adage that Snape had not remembered as he should have done in his dealing with Pettigrew: _keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer_. The Fates seemed to conspire against him. He should not have abused Pettigrew and now – now he would have to pay the price. It was a heavy price. Pettigrew was not a potioneer of Snape's calibre, but he was a potioneer, and Snape should not have overlooked it.

Snape sat, despairing, in their flat, waiting for Lupin to return from his latest assignment. He was so looking forward to seeing Lupin after a week away, but dreading his reaction to the news to which Snape could find no solution. He snapped out of his reverie as soon as he heard the front door uncatch and strode over to greet him.

Conversation was not on Lupin's mind as he came through the front door, however, as he grasped Snape to himself in a fierce embrace, taking his fill of Snape to bring himself back to the world of wizards and Snape, for his part, revelled in the passion that made him forget what he had to tell, at least for this brief time.

oooOOOooo

Snape toyed with Lupin's hair as his head rested on Snape's chest, his arms wrapped tightly around Snape's body as he told of his encounters with the lone wolves in Edinburgh.

Of the twenty three year-old witch, who worked as a prostitute to try "to keep the wolf from the door", as she'd called it bitterly since she had lost her job at the Ministry after she was bitten two years ago and her family had disowned her. One by one, her friends had turned their backs on her. Friendless and without a sickle to her name, she'd tried brewing illegal potions, but had been caught by MLE and had her wand snapped.

And so it went on. A group of werewolves, not properly pack, but banded together to rob Muggle passers-by at night to pay for their food. Of the two teenaged youths he'd met who ran drugs for Muggles, always trying to keep one step ahead of magical and Muggle law enforcement.

So many other stories of neglect and abuse. Not one of them was interested in what Lupin had to say and most became abusive. If the Dark Lord offered them more, they would take it. They'd be fools not to, right?

Lupin rubbed the back of his neck in exasperation. It was clearly so soul-destroying for Lupin. Snape couldn't bear to tell him this latest development. He wasn't even sure how to start, so he started by telling him of his conversation with Pettigrew that had led to it instead.

"I had no idea, Severus. None at all. Perhaps, if I had known ..."

"If you had known? What? Would you have given him a pity fuck?"

"Severus! Of course not. But, perhaps I could have talked to him about Rookwood. I don't know, made him realise that he would always be my friend, if nothing else. I don't know. I would not have derided him, made him feel inadequate. Oh Sirius! If he had known what his stupidity did ..." Lupin dragged his palms over his face in exasperation. "I tried to tell him, but he never understood how hurtful he could be ... how intimidating ... what the consequences could be ..."

"Well, now I've done no better. My outburst was a terrible mistake, Remus. Foolish and ill-conceived of me!" Snape spat. "I forget just how treacherous Pettigrew is. He has done something that will make me pay and, although he doesn't know it, you too." He screwed his eyes shut and took a deep breath as his stomach started to roil and he felt Lupin sit up to look at him fully.

"What is it, Severus?" Lupin said, in his soft voice that he knew always calmed Snape. Snape opened his eyes to look at Lupin. He saw Lupin raise his hand to touch the bite, and then drop it again.

"Why did you stop?" Snape asked, bewildered by the reticence.

"You said it was like the Imperius curse. I've tried to stop myself since ..."

That night Black had watched! Snape had quite forgotten. It felt like a lifetime ago. "That was then. I was angry. Please never think of those things I said then." Snape said, saddened that Lupin had never forgotten the insults Snape had hurled at him in his humiliation, although yet it showed him how much Lupin listened and took what Snape said, even in anger, to heart. Under other circumstances, he might be pleased. He scooped up Lupin's hand and placed it on his own neck. If ever he needed supernatural calming, it was for this conversation. Lupin's thumb circled the bite and Snape felt the queasiness in him stomach quell and his shoulders relaxed.

"Tell me, Severus. Tell me what is troubling you."

"This past month, I don't know why, the Dark Lord's temper, which was already so volatile has worsened. He has complained to me that his concentration feels – ah – fragmented. He asked me to research a potion for him. Needless to say, I have been tardy in doing so, although one sprung to mind immediately. I said I would research it." Snape sighed, realising how foolish this procrastination had been. Better to have confronted the problem and thought of a way around it before the Dark Lord himself knew.

"Pettigrew eavesdropped and found out. Usually he wouldn't dare speak to the Dark Lord about potions without speaking to me first, but I saw the light in his eyes that he could gain recognition from the Dark Lord for his own ideas and cause me pain into the bargain. He rushed to him, in that foul, oleaginous way of his and suggested ..."

"What, Severus?" Lupin pressed.

"The _Acutor_ Potion. It's a wit-sharpening potion. Very powerful Dark magic. It enables the drinker to maintain clarity of thought if there is a physical defect or mechanical difficulty."

"Does Voldemort have a mechanical difficulty?"

"Albus believes he does. He won't explain to me what it is. I have assumed it is due to his magically constructed body, but that is only an assumption on my part."

"So tell me about this potion, Severus. Why is it Dark? How does it affect us?"

Snape raised his eyes briefly skyward as he steeled himself to tell Lupin the worst.

"It is a blood ritual. The brewer's blood is used and it must be brewed fresh. There are incantations chanted by both the brewer and the imbiber together, and it must be drunk on completion." His eyes did not drop from Lupin's, although he felt himself diminish inside.

"It is only powerful if it is brewed and drunk at the zenith of the full moon," Snape confessed.

"Oh." It was more an exhalation than a word. Snape saw a film of moisture shine in Lupin's eyes, and felt his own sting at Lupin's realisation of the full impact on both of them.

"Can't Peter brew it, you know, whilst you tend the murder poison?" asked Lupin, his voice cracking.

"No. It's beyond him. It's an Apothecary standard potion, way beyond NEWT level that Pettigrew took.

"How much blood does it require of you, Severus? Will it hurt you?"

Snape head hung suddenly that Lupin thought of Snape's well-being, and not his own. "I think, beloved," he said quietly, "blood-letting will be the least of our problems ..."

oooOOOooo

Lupin had returned from his debriefing meeting with Dumbledore, and with another assignment of urban werewolves in Newcastle. They had settled down together at the table as Tippy served them lunch. As they finished, Lupin put his hand over Snape's.

"I have spoken to Albus about our problem. He has suggested something to help us."

Snape took in the look of concern in Lupin's eyes and knew whatever this was, it would not be straightforward. He began to feel uneasy.

"You won't like it. Merlin, Severus! I don't like it, but I simply cannot think of anything else to do."

Snape's eyes narrowed mistrustfully. What could Dumbledore possibly know that they did not?

"Go on," he said, slowly, feeling his muscles in his shoulders tense. Lupin swallowed hard but never dropped his eyes from Snape's.

"I think I've mentioned before that werewolves of a certain status can take another mate ..."

"NO!" Snape shouted, jumping to his feet, as the ground seemed to undulate beneath them.

"Please, Severus. Please listen to me," Lupin said gently, reaching out for Snape who drew back from him.

"No," Snape whispered as he moved back until his back met the wall and he could retreat no further.

"Please. Listen." Lupin's hands held Snape's upper arms. Snape let his head fall onto Lupin's shoulder. He couldn't escape listening, no matter how much he wanted to. Lupin rested his head against Snape's.

"It would just be a marking." Lupin lifted Snape's face with a crooked finger under his chin. "I promise you, there would be no need to actually mate. As long as my companion during the full moon is marked by me, neither you nor I will be taken ill like the last moon. You can make that damned potion for Voldemort without being taken ill," Lupin said earnestly.

"Just a marking," Snape repeated, searching Lupin's face, knowing he would find no deceit there.

"Just a marking," Lupin confirmed.

Snape shut his eyes again. He tried to concentrate on Lupin's assurances but his mind began to overrun with images of Lupin with some faceless man, smoothing his neck, scenting it, kissing it, cherishing the skin and then biting into the flesh so that faceless man called out in ecstasy.

Snape's eyes sprang open. "No!" he hissed. "It won't be just a marking. It can't be. That's not its nature. You may not mean to mate, but it will happen. Your nature will overwhelm you. It will happen," Snape said soulfully.

"No! I am not an animal! Why would I do that, Severus? I wouldn't do that to you," Lupin protested. A feeling of ice-cold dread took hold of Snape. He could not see a way out of this. He felt his heart begin to hammer too fast and too hard as he sank his head back into Lupin's shoulder and clutched desperately at his back.

"Look, I'll tell Albus, no," Lupin said quickly, returning the embrace. Snape pulled away and looked at Lupin's earnest face.

"And I'll just tell the Dark Lord no, shall I?" Snape drawled, with a theatrical wave of his hand.

"You're being ridiculous. Voldemort will kill you if you don't make this potion!" Lupin countered fiercely.

"And how will you make it through the full moon if I do?" Snape shouted.

"More to the point, how will you?" Lupin retorted forcefully. Snape opened his mouth to retort. He realised he had none. They were trapped.

"Don't you see, Severus?" Lupin said softly. "Even if you don't come to me at the full moon, you will be ill and won't be able brew the potion and he will kill you. We have to do this to keep you safe."

It wasn't supposed to be about keeping himself safe. That was never what it was supposed to be about. It was about keeping his husband safe, he who Shape loved more than his own life. He had sworn, but it hurt! His mind rebelled and his body began to tremble as he tried to suppress his fear and anger.

"I don't want it! I can't bear it!" Snape cried, grabbing Lupin's shoulders too hard. "You know me, Remus. I am a jealous man." Lupin flinched with pain and Snape realised his hold was too tight and he quickly released Lupin and dropped into a chair. He hung his head in his hands.

"It will kill me," Snape whispered.

"No. No it won't." Lupin kneeled before him and pried Snape's hands from his hair and held them tightly. "As soon as you are free from the ritual, come to me and we will be together. It will be a marking only. You will not be displaced, I promise you. Please Severus. You know it is the only way."

"Who is it? Who is the man that Albus has chosen?" Snape asked, even as he did so, regretting the question  
that would give a face to the formless creature in his jealous mind's eye.

"Not a man," Lupin said. Snape blinked. "Albus has given this a great deal of thought. It isn't just the Lycanthropy that sets the rules, Severus. It must be a woman so our bond is not broken. There is a friend. Someone Albus has asked. She understands and has agreed."

Snape stared. A woman? A woman with his husband. Was that better or worse?

"Who?" Snape managed to croak, his throat now parched.

"Dora Tonks."

Snape closed his eyes slowly, his apprehension did not lift. Not at all. He let his head fall into his hands once more as visions of Lupin with Tonks, naked with Tonks, taking her as he took Snape at the full moon played out in lurid detail in his mind. He tasted the bile as it rose to his mouth. No matter how hard he tried, he could not believe it would be just a marking.

But he couldn't deny the Dark Lord, and survive. He couldn't let Lupin suffer. He could see no other way. His heart was racing so fast, he felt sick. No! Snape could not let his jealousy endanger Lupin. Not ever! He had sworn.

He raised his head to look at Lupin still kneeling before him, those beautiful blue eyes he adored so, searching his own. Snape grabbed Lupin's head and kissed him fiercely even as he felt a tear of his own trace down his cheek.

"I swore I would do anything to keep you safe."

* * *


	79. The Second Mate

Even though Snape had agreed to Dumbledore's plan, he was fretful and agitated. There was little Lupin could do to calm him. When he made love to Snape, Snape could not fully relax, no matter what Lupin did for him. Snape found he just could not abandon himself as he usually did. He was too intent on watching Lupin; on feeling him. His sense of dread told him to savour every look and touch as if it might be ripped from him at any moment. In his own mind, he had always doubted he deserved this love. Now, he would lose it; he was sure of it. He would have to, because he had to keep Lupin safe. It was almost as if Fate had intervened because, in truth, after all, he had never been entitled to this.

"Please Severus," implored Lupin. It had been a week since Snape had agreed, but he could not bring himself to discuss it further. His whole body washed with nausea every time he thought of it.

"I don't wish to discuss it!" snapped Snape, whirling out of the room to the kitchen. As he started to clatter around on some spurious culinary expedition, a gentle hand wrapped around his wrist and Lupin pressed himself to Snape. "It's bad enough I have to share you, but I won't discuss it too!"

"I am not a thing to be shared, Severus, and I don't want anyone else!" Lupin snapped in retort. "I want us to be safe and this is how we achieve it."

Snape inspected the back of the larder cupboard intently, pretending to look for who-knew-what rather than look at Lupin, upset to hear him snap when he so rarely did. Lupin wrapped his other hand around Snape's upper arm to turn him around to face him.

"Come now, Severus," said Lupin, softly. "You and I need to manage this. Together. As the bonded couple we are." Snape went to pull away, but Lupin wouldn't release him. "Don't let it split us apart, my love."

Snape stopped in his tracks. _Why am I so stupid?_ he admonished himself. Lupin was right; Snape would bring about the very thing he feared if he didn't master himself. Manage it? Yes, he should _want_ to manage it. He should want to be the one who gave this interloper access or not to his husband. It was imperative he did not lose sight of his goal to keep Lupin safe. He gave a stiff nod and let Lupin lead him back to the drawing room and sat down next to him on the settee.

"Firstly, I will need to speak to Dora to make sure she understands what she will be doing. It's a big step. She's still grieving for David. I'm as uneasy about the whole thing as you, but perhaps, I think, for different reasons. There's so much I think Albus does not understand."

"Like having a third person in our relationship …" spat Snape.

"No, that will not happen," Lupin said emphatically. "That would only happen if I Claimed Dora. That is not what I will do. Marking is different." Lupin sighed. "You remember when I first marked you, the bites faded." Snape nodded. "It wasn't a full Claim, even though we had had sex. But once I Claimed you fully – bit into you so deeply that a small part of my Lycantropy now runs through your veins – now only death can part us."

"How will you stop yourself?" asked Snape quietly, afraid to voice his fear too loudly, his eyes beseeching Lupin's.

"You are worried the beast in me will take me over and Dora and I will have sex, that I will not be able to stop myself," Lupin stated, disappointment evident in his face.

Snape flushed deeply to hear his fears spoken in the soft voice he loved – his fear that his husband might be weak in the face of that curse.

"Don't you see, Severus? It is critical I do _not_ have sex with Dora for all our sakes. All those elements cement the Claim: the deep bite, sex. I don't deny that it is a deeply sexual thing, but it must be resisted. One day, Dora will be ready to move on with her life and find someone new; someone of her own. She must not be saddled with us because of an act of kindness to me, to Albus."

Snape snorted. "Imagine her horror to find she's saddled with me!"

Lupin smiled in acknowledgement, but it was a sad smile, and then he sighed heavily.

"When Voldemort falls, and you are free, we need never worry about being parted. In the meantime, we do what we must, but we must be careful of others too."

Snape knew Lupin was right, in every detail. Lupin's kindness always shamed Snape. Lupin never meant it to, Snape knew, but still it did. Lupin thought in ways that Snape just did not – not when it concerned Lupin anyway. Lupin was his world, his future. Snape had to think of that future. However, to Snape, Tonks was just a means to that end – to keeping Lupin safe. He repeated it like a mantra in his own head. He, of all people, had to be calm to see this through.

Finally, he took Lupin's hands in his own. He nodded emphatically and Lupin kissed his brow.

"You are right," said Snape. "You always are. You must speak to Miss Tonks and we must plan. Now the question has to be: where will you transform? It can't be here."

No, indeed, for all Lupin was right, Snape would not have Tonks in their home.

"The only place I can think of is Grimmauld Place," said Lupin, unfazed by Snape's adamant statement.

"Will you be all right there, with ... well ... your memories?"

"I'll be fine, Severus. It will only be for the transformation. If we can, if we have time, you and I will be together beforehand – properly – until I have to leave to prepare for moonrise," Lupin suggested.

Snape understood and was desperately grateful. This, above all things, he could not surrender to Tonks. He nodded eagerly.

"Yes, and I will come to you after moonset. You will tell Miss Tonks that I run tests to monitor the Wolfsbane."

"Yes. That works …"

oooOOOooo

Snape had spent hours in the early morning setting up for the day. He had sorted out all his ingredients and apparatus for the ritual and packed it all into a ceremonial casket. He then cast a security spell on the casket so Pettigrew could not tamper with it and then shrank it. Pettigrew had fussed around him, wanting to be involved so he could elevate his standing in the Dark Lord's eyes but Snape had kept him at bay with sharp words and the odd Stinging Hex.

Then he turned his attention to the poison. Because of the ritual, he could not pretend to be tending his latest version of the poison so he could be with Lupin. Well, it meant that Pettigrew would get his wish to stay away from tonight's meeting as he would have to tend it. Snape had added an enchanted accelerant to it to ensure it began to change colour throughout the night so that Pettigrew was fooled into thinking it required tending.

He had also contrived a nasty surprise for Pettigrew for Snape was a vengeful man himself. For all the distress he had felt over the past weeks, and that he would surely feel during the ritual and every full moon he was without Lupin, he had concocted his own revenge.

The instructions for Pettigrew called for essence of belladonna and a sprig of mint to be added at midnight as the potion became a deep claret. For Snape, of course, it had been easy to engineer the potion to change colour at the critical moment. He had contaminated his mint stock with bubotuber pus injected into the veins of the leaves so that when they were added, the potion would slowly congeal and then combust. It was a waste of a cauldron, but worth it. The Dark Lord would be furious.

Snape smirked unpleasantly. It was the very least Pettigrew deserved.

oooOOOooo

Snape got to the flat and placed the ritual casket by the front door so he wouldn't forget it. He so wanted to be with Lupin, but he had dreaded this night. He had told Tippy that neither of them would be staying for dinner tonight and saw her crestfallen look.

"Cook something particularly nice for Master Lupin for tomorrow evening, Tippy," Snape said.

"Does Professor Snape not want anything particular for himself?" Tippy asked, brightening hopefully.

"What Master Lupin likes, I will like too," Snape said distractedly, his attention wandering to the front door.

"Even blue fillet steak?" asked Tippy incredulously. Snape snorted somewhat nervously. It was true: Lupin did like his meat rather too bloody for Snape's taste.

"Perhaps my fillet could be medium rare ..." suggested Snape.

"Of course, Professor Snape," the little elf bowed and headed off to the kitchen. "Tippy has some new recipes for Master Lupin she is sure he will enjoy especially on Master Lupin's recovery day, plenty of protein and iron for him, cruciferous vegetables, yes that will be good. Master Lupin is such a good eater! And then for pudding ..."

Snape tuned out her voice as he heard the front door uncatch and felt the hair on his body rise and his breath caught as he swallowed heavily.

His body knew: it was time.

oooOOOooo

Lupin kissed Snape tenderly as he held Snape, unfocused and inarticulate and still trembling in his arms, his body calming to that deep and throbbing contentment he always felt after Lupin took him in the manner of the wolf. It was the first time in that month that Snape have given himself over completely, had felt full and total release.

Snape was vaguely aware that Lupin called Tippy to draw them a bath. It was ready within minutes. Lupin helped Snape into the bath and then got in with him. He pulled Snape back onto himself and washed him gently. Snape was exhausted and he relaxed into the gentle cleansing completely.

"Why?" he managed to rasp out, his voice ragged from crying out. They normally bathed together the next morning, or rather Snape bathed Lupin. It had become almost like a ritual to Snape.

"You told me you made Wolfsbane for Greyback and others. If they come, they will smell me on you," said Lupin as he rinsed around Snape's neck and shoulders.

"Now, is there anything I mustn't use? Anything that might interfere with your sense of smell? Or the potion itself?" Lupin asked.

Snape looked up at Lupin from his prone position against his chest, seeing the paleness of Lupin's face, knowing how tired he must be, and yet he was exerting himself to bathe Snape to keep him safe, and still having the sense to ask these questions. Snape, always at his most vulnerable after these monthly encounters that sated him so fully, was completely drained and now he now felt completely overwhelmed.

"I love you so," whispered Snape.

Lupin stopped washing him and bent to kiss him, stroking a finger down his face.

"And I love you," he said gently, and smiled. "Now tell me, my love."

"It's not a delicate brew," Snape said, his voice still weak. "Use whatever you know works. I trust you."

"Well, we know _this_ works," Lupin said, and unwrapped a bar of coal tar soap. "Sorry, Severus. This might be a bit … um … intimate."

Even though Lupin washed him quite thoroughly and intimately, every touch was welcome. If anything, it helped him back to his senses. It was a ridiculously strong smell, but an exceptionally _clean_ one. Lupin scrubbed himself clean also. By the end of the bath, Snape felt himself more himself once more and as ready as he could be for what was to come.

oooOOOooo

Snape held the shrunken casket under one arm, as Lupin pressed him bodily back on the front door, his hands either side of Snape's face, kissing him repeatedly, neither prepared to let the other go.

"You must go now, Severus," Lupin whispered as he kissed him again.

"I don't want to." Snape kissed Lupin again.

"I know, but we must go. There's only twenty minutes to moonrise." Lupin held Snape's chin in his fingers for one more kiss, nodded and moved away and Snape Disapparated, still feeling Lupin's soft kiss on his lips as he Apparated into the hall of the dusty manor house. He touched the tips of his fingers to his mouth like a talisman, feeling more sure than he had this month that he was still loved.

"Ah Severus," the Dark Lord sang. "The man of the hour!" There was nervous laughter from the gathered Death Eaters. "You do not wear your mask."

Snape cursed inwardly for forgetting. No matter.

"My Lord." Snape bowed low. "I have a rare and complicated potion to brew. I couldn't possibly ..."

"Of course. Of course," the Dark Lord rushed to agree, never wanting to appear he had not understood some aspect of magic, even if it was beyond him. "Choose the place you require."

Snape chose the ancient table in the decrepit study next to the hall, and cast strong cleaning charms over it. He wanted somewhere out of the way, somewhere relatively private for the time being as he felt the tug in his gut. It made him flinch. He had not expected it. He held his breath, wondering what had gone wrong. Would he be taken ill? But that first tug was all he felt. His jaw clamped tight as he inhaled deeply.

Lupin must have done it then: he had marked Tonks. He felt a wave of nausea wash over him. He braced his hands on the table as he inhaled again to calm himself. He had to master himself. Lupin was the wolf now. Surely, nothing personal could happen between him and Tonks now? Snape had been with Lupin at Lupin's most sensuous time. Merlin, Snape had the profound ache to prove it! Should he have taken a pain reliever? No. No, it was better this way. It reminded him that it was he that Lupin had taken before the change. That deep throb in his lower body, as if Lupin was still there - his - he screwed his eyes shut to savour the feeling.

Snape had to remain focused. He steeled himself once more, grateful he was away from the others. At least setting up his equipment meant he did not have to participate in the Dark Lord's meeting, although he tried to listen for any news that might be of interest to the Order through the open doors.

He cast _Engorgio_ on the casket's contents and took his time setting out the burner, and the small sized silver cauldron, glass rod stirrer and silver ladle. Then he set out all of the prepared ingredients in the order he was to use them. Then he set out those ingredients which had to be chopped fresh during the ritual ( _including myself,_ he thought grimly). Finally, he unravelled the silver ceremonial chalice and the ritual dagger from the crushed crimson velvet in which he had wrapped them.

He busied himself with chanting over the cauldron. It was not necessary for the ritual. It was, in fact, a Muggle yoga chant for relaxation but until it was time for the ritual, he didn't want to think too much about Lupin and Tonks, about carving his arm open for the Dark Lord, about why Dumbledore refused to let him use this opportunity to poison the Dark Lord.

Snape could do it. He could do it easily. He had so many undetectable poisons at his disposal. And yet Dumbledore always refused – always told him other things had to happen before the Dark Lord could be killed – things he could not tell Snape because that would jeopardise everything. Snape put his hands over his face while he chanted reflexively. Just like he wasn't to tell Lupin about his vow to kill Dumbledore or about his Unbreakable Vow to Narcissa.

So many secrets swirling around: some he kept, some kept from him. It was hardly unreasonable that Snape's faith in Lupin wavered sometimes. Snape judged Lupin according to himself and Snape was a liar. He chanted to take himself deeper, to take himself away from where this chain of thought would lead him as his stomach lurched at the thought of Lupin and Tonks. One of his hands dropped from his face to his bonding circlet, firmly embedded in his arm. He allowed himself to stroke it, just brief, small brushes of his fingertips against it. It was everything to him.

He calmed breath by breath, until it was time to start to brew. Then, he Occluded deeply so that only that part of his mind, the finely disciplined Apothecary, would partake of the ceremony. The sooner it was accomplished, the sooner he would be free to return to Lupin.

oooOOOooo

It was done.

Narcissa had applied the Dittany to the deep wound to the soft flesh of his right forearm and applied a healing charm as well. She had a remarkably deft healing touch, Snape thought. His arm smarted, but there would be no scar. It was just as well since he would have to do the same thing in twenty nine days.

As he stood and thanked Narcissa, Pettigrew rushed through the hallway to him, looking terrified at the large wolves that followed him in. Greyback! But Snape had no interest in that animal. His eyes narrowed with malice as Pettigrew raced up to him.

"I don't know what happened! I did everything just as you told me!" Pettigrew cringed before him. Fear for the man in front of him; fear of the animals behind. Snape was glad he was not Peter Pettigrew.

"What have you done, imbecile?" barked Snape, loudly enough for the Dark Lord to hear. Out of the corner of Snape's eye, he saw the Dark Lord turn to listen. Snape moved threateningly toward Pettigrew. "What have you done to our Lord's poison?"

"Your instructions must have been wrong!" the small man squealed. Snape started towards him suddenly with his wand drawn.

"Why you ..."

"Severus!" the Dark Lord hissed. Snape backed away with a bow as Pettigrew fell to his knees and grasped the Dark Lord's robe with the tips of his fingers in obeisance.

"My Lord!" Pettigrew snivelled. "I did everything ... I followed every instruction to the letter! The instructions must have been wrong! Please, my Lord, you must believe me!"

"Must I?" the Dark Lord demanded. He turned to Snape.

Snape's eyes blazed with fury. Not fury for the destroyed poison, of course, but for the dagger he had had to rake through his own arm as the Dark Lord looked on with sadistic delight, for the love he had had to entrust to another on this the most vulnerable night in the month and for both things that would have to happen every full moon for as long as Snape could foresee. Yes, indeed, his eyes blazed with fury.

"Severus," the Dark Lord enquired softly, "were the instructions difficult?"

"A child could have accomplished them, my Lord," Snape hissed. "Stirring at the right time, and the addition of two ingredients – just two! – at the height of the moon. What damage is there?" Snape demanded of the cowering man.

"Just ... just ... the cauldron. I have cleaned it all! But we ... we will need to start again," simpered Pettigrew, his eyes now filled with tears.

"We? We? My Lord, please! All my work! Ruined! A copper cauldron destroyed. This is no assistance at all!" Snape hoped he had judged his righteous indignation correctly. "I apologise, my Lord," he said quickly and bowed.

"No, you are right, Severus. Your diligence cannot be gainsaid. If Wormtail is more of a hindrance than a help, I shall not inflict him in you. You must start again and we will find a way to accommodate the moon. You have done well tonight. You may go." The Dark Lord twisted his neck as if stretching his neck muscles and then looked down at Pettigrew, his visage twisting.

"And you!" the Dark Lord sneered and he kicked the small man over as Snape swept out of the room.

" _CRUCIO!"_

oooOOOooo

It wasn't quite yet moonset.

Snape took the casket back to Spinner's End and checked the cellar. Pettigrew had left it scrupulously clean. Snape shook his head. Pettigrew would rather have braved the Dark Lord's wrath than await Snape in his own home. Pettigrew knew Snape was biding his time to hurt him for suggesting the _Acutor_ potion. Possibly, Pettigrew had thought Snape would kill him when he returned. He could not help but allow himself a dark smile. Poor Pettigrew didn't understand that, whilst the Dark Lord used Snape, Snape used the Dark Lord too.

Snape re-worked his wards so all but he and Lupin were once more excluded and Disapparated to the top step outside the front door of Grimmauld Place and waited for moonrise. As soon as he judged Lupin's reversion to be complete, Snape let himself in loudly and took the stairs as quickly as he could.

He let himself in to see Lupin kneeling on the floor with a blanket wrapped around him, panting from the reversion, and Tonks withdrawing her arms from him. He stood in the doorway and set his face to a sneer, genuinely felt in Tonks's case.

"How very touching," said Snape, his lip curling.

"You can keep your thoughts to yourself, Snape," Tonks retorted sharply, and turned back to Lupin. "Are you all right. Can I help you into bed?" Snape's hold on his patience snapped.

"Leave him be, Miss Tonks. I have tests to conduct and your assistance is extraneous to requirements. Leave, if you please."

"I can wait, if you like, Remus?" said Tonks. Snape heard the distrust of him in her voice.

"That will not be necessary, Miss Tonks," sneered Snape. "I assure you, Lupin has been safe in my hands for some years now."

"How dare you ..." Tonks started, flexing her fingers around her wand as she sprang to her feet. _Her bare feet!_

"Yes, Miss Tonks?" snarled Snape, his wand in his hand on the instant.

"Please," gasped Lupin weakly. "This really isn't necessary. Severus will take good care of me, Dora. Please don't worry."

Tonks's stare darted from Lupin to Snape. _No doubting her calling,_ Snape thought.

"Fine," Dora huffed as she slipped on her shoes. She turned to Lupin and bent to kiss his cheek. Snape's jaw worked in annoyance, as he took in the apology in Lupin's eyes. She placed a hand over Lupin's.

"Take care, Remus. If you need anything at all, Floo me. We'll speak soon." She smiled softly at him. Snape had seen that smile before. It had been the way she smiled at David, he was sure.

"Thank you, Dora. And thank you for what you did last night." said Lupin, earnestly.

"Any time, Remus," she said lightly. "Anything for a friend," she added pointedly, looking Snape up and down as if he could never possibly count as one.

Tonks patted Lupin's hand again, and squeezed. With one last glower at Snape, she left the room. Snape listened to her descend the stairs, and was pretty sure she tripped down one. Then he turned to Lupin and started to cast to see what injuries he had.

"Don't I get a kiss good morning?"

"When I know you're not injured," Snape said, his turn now to huff, trying to hide how offended he still felt, and failing.

He found some contusions and one small dislocated bone in Lupin's wrist and dealt with those and enlarged his Apothecary bag for his Bruise Balm.

As he undid the jar, he heard loud footsteps on the landing. Quickly looking up, Snape spotted Tonks's bag, scooped it up and in three long strides, made the bedroom door and pulled it open just as Tonks was reaching for the handle.

"I just .. I forgot .." she stammered as she tried to peer over his shoulder to Lupin, her expression concerned.

"Do try not to be so forgetful, Miss Tonks," sneered Snape and thrust the bag at her and slammed the door in her shocked face. He waited by the door until he heard Tonks leave the house, and then his shoulders relaxed.

"Try not to be too harsh, Severus," Lupin said softly. Snape spun to make a retort, but stopped himself as he took in just how pale Lupin was.

"What was it you said to me once about being able to deal with only so much opprobrium?" snapped Snape, angry he was so mistrusted with the one person he loved above all others by the one in these past weeks he had come to fear so desperately.

"Why don't we go to bed, my love? I've missed you," said Lupin, softly, his face so gentle and understanding, and yet so pale and tired.

"No," Snape said softly. "We'll go to our own home."

With that, he gently helped Lupin out of the blanket and into his clothes, and then Apparated them downstairs then supported him onto the front step to Disapparate to their own flat.

As soon as he had opened their front door, supporting Lupin in his arms, Tippy in her bow came rushing up to them.

"Oh my masters! It's so good to have you home!" she cried. "I have made the bed freshly for Master Lupin's recovery." She pattered away in front of them. "Shall I bring tea for you? Do you want breakfast now or later?"

Snape felt Lupin squeeze his side as Lupin smiled weakly at him. "Thank you for bringing me home, Severus."

Every time Lupin spoke or smiled at him, it seemed to wear away more of his upset and soothe him. He squeezed Lupin back and continued into the bedroom.

"Tea, please, Tippy, and breakfast later, I think," said Snape, never taking his eyes from Lupin. He heard the elf patter away as he helped Lupin out of his clothes and into bed and once more cast his wand over him, checking for any injuries he may have missed. Satisfied there were no more, he replaced the covers over Lupin.

Tippy came in with a tea tray and placed it on the bedside cabinet. "So good to have you both home, it is," she said softly under her breath. "Tippy gets so worried for her masters." With that, she left the room and shut the bedroom door after her.

Snape stared after her. "What do you make of that?" he said, as he turned and poured the tea.

"It must be difficult for her. She so often sees us hurt. A house-elf is bound to her masters, to serve them and help them. Imagine how it must feel for her to be helpless and so often," Lupin said, his voice weak and breathy.

Snape sat on the side of the bed, helping Lupin to sit up to drink some tea, all of his anger and misery now gone as he felt Lupin's hand over his own holding the tea, here by his husband's side, caring for him. He felt his body relaxing, demanding sleep that had been denied it.

He undressed and crawled in next to Lupin, who curled up into Snape's arms, nestling against his chest. Suddenly, Snape's heart felt full, emotional that all his fears, for this month at least, were unfounded. He tightened his embrace and kissed the crown of Lupin's head and drifted off to sleep.

oooOOOooo

Neither woke until late morning, both so exhausted. Snape bathed Lupin tenderly then they ate the large brunch Tippy had laid out for them and Snape told Lupin about the night and all that had passed with the ritual. After they had eaten, they sat in the drawing room as Lupin spoke about his night.

"Did you ever think just how much Dumbledore has asked of Tonks to keep us safe?"

"Why should I care?" Snape snapped, stiffening.

"Please, Severus. This unkind mask of yours doesn't wash with me," said Lupin kindly, pulling Snape back towards him. "I think it's important. We need to be careful. I think it's important that we try to keep the full moon as transactional for her as possible. She is still grieving for David. It would be too easy to transfer her affections to me if she thinks I need care and attention."

"Perhaps she would find it easier to grieve if she had acknowledged this love of her life," hissed Snape nastily.

"She is a nice girl, Severus. You should try not to be so unkind because you feel defensive. But just because I think she is a nice girl does not mean she could replace you. I have bonded my soul to you."

"I'm sorry," murmured Snape. "I worry. I can't stop it. I imagine things ... such things ... that she'll take you from me. Now you've ... marked her."

"Severus. Just marked. That is all."

They sat in uncomfortable silence for a while.

"You could see for yourself. Then you'll know," suggested Lupin

"I would not ask it of you. It would be saying I do not trust you. I do trust you. But ..." Snape closed his eyes. They stung. "I am afraid."

"You have nothing to fear, Severus. I want you to see and know for sure. All of this is hard enough for us. Do this not because you do not trust me but so I can give you this comfort."

Snape searched the eyes of Lupin. Such earnest eyes. Open and honest. He loved them so. He closed his eyes again. Was it wrong to do this? His eyes flew open as he felt Lupin place Snape's wand in his hand and then close his hand over it and nod to him. Snape held Lupin's face gently.

_Legilimens._

Snape would rather have just sat and talked in Lupin's mind. Always so restful and loving, why would he want to worry himself with memories of Nymphadora Tonks?

_Come, Severus._

Lupin arrived at Grimmauld Place and Tonks followed a minute later. Her hair was limp and mousy and she was pale. Snape thought she was thinner too. She wore a black crew neck T shirt and black jeans.

They chatted companionably as they went upstairs and Tonks waited on the landing as Lupin went to his old bedroom to undress and, after wrapping a light blanket around himself and sitting on the floor, he called to her that he was decent once more.

Tonks came in, not at all worried, that was clear.

"You've nothing I haven't seen before," she said with a faint, but crooked, smile.

"You've not seen mine, and you've no need to," Lupin said, with a small laugh of his own. Tonks sat cross-legged on the floor. She looked drawn and chewed her lip as her eyes glistened.

"If this is too troubling, Dora, you really don't need to stay," said Lupin.

" _Are you mad?" hissed Snape in horror._

" _Look at her face, Severus. Think of the memories it must be bringing back to her! How would you feel?"_

"It's not that, Remus," said Tonks. "I'll be fine. Full moons have been difficult for me since ... well, since David ..." Tonks sniffed and looked away. "It's good to be useful on a night I don't find easy anymore."

"Nevertheless," Lupin said emphatically. "It's very kind of you."

Tonks gave him a small, sad smile.

"Let's do this then," she said and, without saying anything more, removed her Weird Sisters T shirt so she sat in front of Lupin in only her bra and trousers.

Snape felt Lupin's embarrassment as he looked away from the black garment and to her shoulder muscle where the silver, puckered scar of David's bite remained, just visible under her lank, mousy hair.

" _You bite over another's?" asked Snape._

" _Yes, but it only works as a marking if the other werewolf no longer lives," Lupin replied sadly._

Lupin shuffled his arms out of the blanket, clutching the rest around his waist. Tonks smiled.

"I never would have thought you'd be the type for a tattoo, Remus," she said, laughing. "Show me." Lupin turned slightly so Tonks could see the filigree markings that had now curled across his shoulder. "It's incredible!"

"Why, thank you, Dora," Lupin said, a little more relaxed now.

Tonks moved her hand up to touch it, _(Snape drew a breath sharply over his teeth in offence)_ but Lupin drew away carefully with an embarrassed smile.

"I'm sorry," said Tonks. "That was rather rude, wasn't it?" She laughed softly again.

"No, I'm sorry," said Lupin. "We should ..." Lupin's cheeks coloured. "It's getting late."

"Yes, of course," Tonks said, shaking herself slightly.

Lupin moved forward and raised his hand to her neck tentatively and then pulled it away.

"Your hair," he said hoarsely.

"I'm sorry," she replied, and she pulled her own hair away and then looked down at her own lap.

_Snape could feel Lupin's shame rising._

" _I felt like I was defiling her, Severus. A marking is an intimate thing, even without sex. In fact, without sex, it's more of an assault."_

Lupin rested his hands on Tonks's shoulders and nestled his head into the crook of her shoulder and neck and opened his mouth on the bite. He heard Tonks take a breath sharply and pulled away quickly.

"Are you sure?" asked Lupin again.

"Yes, Remus. Get on with it, please." _Snape heard the catch in her voice._

Lupin replaced his hands and his mouth and bit.

_The effect Snape felt in Lupin's mind was electric. As Lupin bit through skin, but not the muscle, his hands tightened on Tonks's shoulder and Lupin's body was innervated. There was no doubt that his sexual desire was piqued on that instant but Lupin squashed it hard. He sucked on the bite to draw blood to the surface, but he didn't tongue it. Snape realised that Lupin was only doing enough to mark her without continuing to perfect his Claim by piercing the muscle and taking her, although his body warred against his consciousness. The Curse that resided in Lupin wanted fulfilment, but Lupin mastered it._

Tonks's body went limp in his hands and she gasped at the feel and her arms wrapped around Lupin's back.

" _No!" Snape's mind shouted. It was a small gesture but it was full of longing._

" _Be calm, Severus. It is the bite only. Watch now," soothed Lupin._

Lupin gradually ceased tonguing the bite and withdrew his mouth from Tonks's neck. Her head fell back briefly, and then she lifted herself back to look at him. Her eyes, now the colour of his – exactly the colour and shape of his – held his own, her pupils dilated. It lasted but a second, but there was no doubt of her sexual attraction to him at that moment.

" _It was the bite, Severus. That is all that was. Be calm."_

Then her eyes were her own again once more as she focused on the T shirt that Lupin handed to her, his own hand trembling slightly.

"It will be time soon," Lupin said and Tonks smiled and pulled her T shirt back on as Lupin adjusted his blanket.

"Tell me how you've been, Dora," Lupin said gently. "At least we have a few minutes to talk before ..."

Tonks seemed to recover herself as she told him that she felt a little better. She was back at work full-time now after her compassionate leave. It had been hard because only a few people knew about David.

"And you?" she asked. "How is it here without Sirius?"

_It jolted Snape. Of course, she thought Black had been Lupin's mate. David would have told her that. He knew differently in the end though. That Memory Charm had cost David his life. Snape felt a surge of guilt about his antipathy towards her. If there had been no need to protect his status as the Order's spy, her mate would be alive today._

" _Doesn't she know that death would release you so you would not sicken?" Snape asked._

" _Clearly not. She may just think I need help with the transformation."_

"I try not to be here too often," replied Lupin, evasively.

"Yours missions for Dumbledore?" she asked. Lupin nodded.

At that moment, Snape felt a sharp pain starting to radiate fast from the base of Lupin's spine, powerful and nauseating and then it tore up Lupin's spine, seeming to rend it in two -

"No!" Lupin cried out, grasping the wrist of Snape's wand hand, and Snape, terrified by that second of pain he felt, withdrew instantly from his mind, feeling a huge pulse of Lupin's will pushing at him.

"Never that! Never be in my mind for that," Lupin gasped, his expression distraught, as he held on to Snape's wrist tightly.

Snape broke Lupin's grip and wrapped his arms around him.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't think to get out quickly. I didn't mean to stay in." He kissed Lupin's face, hearing Lupin gasping for breath. He simply had not thought. He certainly had not expected this distress. "Please, Remus. I'm sorry."

"Never that," repeated Lupin as he kissed Snape back. "Please."

He pressed Lupin back on to the settee and smoothed his hair and kissed him again, apologising softly until Lupin was calm again, cradled in Snape's arms.

After a while, Lupin began to speak, although Snape hadn't prompted it. Snape had seen what he so desperately needed to see, after all.

"Dora held me whilst I transformed. It wasn't an easy transformation, but it wasn't as appalling as it used to be ... before I had you." Lupin pushed himself back so he could look at Snape whilst he spoke. "She let me go and I curled up on the blanket. She sat and talked for a while, telling me about her work, about the Order and what it meant to her. She stroked my fur." Snape bridled. Lupin squeezed his hand. "I saw her do that to Sirius in his Animagus form, Severus. I don't think it means anything. She held me around the neck and told me how she missed David. I think ... I think holding on to me like that brought it back to her."

"It's not exactly the type of intimacy Jane Witch and Joe Wizard have, is it?" Snape snorted.

"Quite. She talked for hours, Severus, telling me how she and David first met, how she asked him out because she thought he was shy. Of course, she didn't realise that he kept the dreadful secret of werewolfism. Eventually, he agreed to go out with her, and she told me about their dates and how he took her clubbing. I wondered if they went troll-hunting when she said that. Probably just as well I couldn't speak. That would have shown what an old fogey I am, wouldn't it? They had so much in common, Severus. She told me the music they shared, the concerts they went to, how they would travel when their work permitted until he joined the Order and came on missions with me, because he wanted to do whatever he could to fight Voldemort, just like his mate. At times, I wasn't sure if she knew I was there, she was so lost in her reminiscences.

"Of course, there was little I could do apart from whimper here and there. It's not like when we're together, Severus, and we can speak to each other. I forget that other werewolves, even on Wolfsbane, don't have the connection that we share." Lupin moved back into Snape's arms and kissed his neck.

"What we have, Severus, is really very special. Unique, possibly."

Snape nodded. Yes, unique. That is what is was, and Snape felt an absolute fool not to have realised it.

Snape leant forward and kissed Lupin passionately. He would not let these vague imaginings keep him from Lupin any longer.

Snape stood and held his hand out to Lupin and led him back to the bedroom, and undressed him slowly and gently. He had been so foolish to worry. They were unique. Lupin kissed Snape's neck as he undressed Snape and led him back to the bed. Lupin lay down and held his arms out to him. Snape's heart raced to see his husband so inviting - his blue eyes dusky with desire. Snape crawled over him, kissing him everywhere as slowly as he could, allowing his hands to wander and luxiurate in the feel of Lupin's skin and the sounds of Lupin's sighs and moans. Why had he denied himself the luxury of losing himself in his husband? It was madness. Snape pulled himself up over Lupin's body and rested his weight on his elbows so he could be face to face with that beloved face. He tightened his hold on Lupin underneath him and he searched Lupin's eyes, drinking him in before he sunk into him and lost himself fully. Lupin spread his legs under Snape and wrapped them loosely around Snape's legs as he stroked Snape's face.

"I'm still yours, Severus. As I promised. Completely," Lupin whispered hoarsely.

Snape's chest swelled with such passion and love that he could not form words, he could only love Lupin as tenderly as he was able. He pushed into Lupin's yielding body, his mind and body on fire with the complete certainty that Lupin was still his own, his very own, and perhaps, just perhaps, it would be Snape who would be allowed to keep Lupin safe.

* * *


	80. Reasons for Concealment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes in bold from Chapter 8 of HBP are © J.K. Rowling

The full moon had taken its toll on more than Snape and Lupin.

The Order meeting two days later was fraught. Snape arrived with Dumbledore, as usual, to find Tonks sitting with Lupin, desperately attentive to him. Lupin apologised privately to him as their eyes met, but still Snape seethed.

Dumbledore called the meeting to order as soon as Molly and Arthur had distributed drinks.

"Greyback and two of his cronies took down Audley, Darvill and Lucas and their wives," Kingsley reported to the hushed Order meeting.

"Were they Turned?" Lupin asked, his voice tremulous.

"No," Kingsley said, shaking his head. "Torn apart," he added, unnecessarily in Snape's view, as he watched Lupin's face drain as he scrubbed his hands over his face.

"But, worse," Kingsley continued, with a concerned look at Lupin. "Each had young children. Masked Death Eaters came to each house with the werewolves and took them."

"Took them?" repeated Snape. Lupin caught the hopeful note in Snape's voice.

"You think they may yet be unbitten?" he asked.

"Well, it doesn't fit Greyback's previous handiwork. I suspect there may be a ritual Turning planned. A show of how werewolves who serve the Dark Lord are rewarded."

"That's appalling," Tonks chimed in, her lip curled at Snape.

"Yes, Miss Tonks," Snape sneered, holding her stare. Dumbledore coughed lightly next to him. "It may have escaped your notice that some werewolves can be – quite appalling."

"Well, perhaps some supposedly double agent shouldn't be making them Wolfsbane, Snape!"

"Then the whole household would be dead, _Miss Tonks_!" spat Snape.

"Thank you, Nymphadora," said Dumbledore mildly.

Tonks turned quickly in her seat to remonstrate with him over using her name, but exhaled angrily instead as Lupin patted her hand. Snape gritted his teeth so tightly, it hurt and then he tore his eyes away from the too-friendly gesture.

"It is well to remember that Severus does certain things under my instruction. Chastising him for doing so only ensures that we fight amongst ourselves. That can only play into Voldemort's hands." He looked at Tonks and then at the others reprovingly over his half-moon glasses, but Snape knew they didn't hear. They didn't want to. Dumbledore had told them all countless times that he trusted Snape; still it made no difference. Snape's jaw set and looked off to the middle distance. He knew Lupin was trying to catch his eye, but Snape was just too angry. Too angry about the calming pat to _her_ hand. How dare he touch her hand to calm her!

The rest of the meeting had passed in a fug of Snape's own hideous imaginings of Lupin and Tonks together, every now and then catching a glimpse of them: Lupin's gorgeous smile bestowed upon her as she, so clearly infatuated with him, hung on his every word. The meeting was torture. It couldn't be over quick enough for Snape.

"Severus .." Lupin moved towards him as the meeting closed. Snape turned to leave the room, his insides still burning.

"Don't bother with him, Remus." He heard Tonks whisper loudly to Lupin for Snape to hear. "I don't know why you try to befriend him! Remember what he did to you. He's just a bastard."

Snape said nothing as the sides of his face burned with shame and anger as he strode out of Grimmauld Place.

When Black had been alive, and Lupin had stayed at headquarters, Snape had waited in Lupin's bedroom rather than socialise with members of Order. Nowadays, he returned to their flat to wait for him. Usually, he would read or just wait for him in bed.

This night, however, Snape counted the minutes, second by painful second, as he paced the drawing room waiting for Lupin. Ten minutes. Twenty minutes. His anger and jealousy mounting. He picked up a bottle of Firewhiskey but put it down quickly, flinching from the realisation of how much trouble that could cause for him, as it always had caused for him.

Thirty minutes. Forty minutes. His gut was churning, but now his anger at himself was warring with his irrational anger at Lupin. He should have come straight home! He should not make Snape wait like this! Lupin _knew_ how he felt. _I trust him. Of course, I trust him. He has never, never let me down._

One hour. One hour and fifteen minutes. It was no longer than he had waited before, but the wait felt so painful. An hour and a half.

He heard Lupin at the door. Part of his heart leapt but he could not seem to calm his own anger.

"Home, finally, are we?" spat Snape, before Lupin had even closed the door. Lupin blinked fast in surprise.

"Severus," said Lupin calmly, walking over to him. "What's the matter? I haven't been that long."

"I suppose you've been chatting with _Nymphadora_ , have you? Talking about what a bastard I am!" Snape snarled.

"No! Of course not. Well yes, I've been talking to Dora, and Kingsley and Arthur, and all of the others too. I have _not_ talked about what a bastard she thinks you might be," Lupin replied, placatingly.

They stood facing each other now, Lupin's eyes trying to search Snape's own black, wounded ones. Why was being in love so very, very painful?

"Severus. Don't start this, please. I like Dora. She's a friend. She has been since we met back at the Retreat. But that's all she is. What she has agreed to do for us at the full moon, Severus. It saves our lives – yours and mine. You can't expect me to ignore her," reasoned Lupin, reaching out for Snape. Snape pulled away.

"Don't tell me you don't see the way she's started to look at you! You are not an insensitive man, Remus. If I can see it, so can you," snapped Snape, refusing to listen to the pleading in Lupin's voice.

"Yes, I do and it will pass. She is grieving, and yet she does this incredibly intimate thing for us that must stir such memories for her ..."

"... memories perhaps of sex before the full moon, as we have ..." interrupted Snape, his tone unpleasant.

"I don't know, Severus. I've never discussed such things with her and nor would I," Lupin cried. "It's you I want to be with. You are all I want!"

"But you can, can't you! You can have another mate if you're alpha. And you can take a wife because these are ancient Greek bonding circlets! You can have the lot! You don't need to even ask me!" Snape snarled, as savagely as the jealous irrational creature in him could muster.

"No! I wouldn't do that! I don't want that! Stop it! Why would you say it?" Lupin pulled Snape towards himself to embrace him.

"Why? Because it's true! Everything I've said is true!" Snape shouted, as he pushed Lupin away from him so hard that he staggered.

Lupin quickly righted himself and grabbed both of Snape's wrists and pulled them behind Snape's back and rammed him against the wall, his eyes narrowed now with hurt and anger, but more too. The wolf moved behind Lupin's eyes.

"Don't ever push me away," Lupin growled in Snape's mouth, and on that instant, grabbed the sides of Snape's robe and ripped it open so the buttons scattered on the floor as Lupin's hands snatched hard at Snape's body and Lupin kissed him ferociously and possessively. Snape returned the kiss forcefully, feeling his anger become heated desire on that instant. The more Lupin searched with his tongue and then bit his lips, the more Snape's anger became hunger - greedy hunger. He groaned low in his throat, as Lupin began to bite and suck hard at his throat, pulling the torn robe off his shoulders, and finding the bite. He bit into it and Snape cried out as his legs weakened.

Lupin's arms wrapped around him, as Snape's head fell back, now delirious. Lupin pulled the robe off Snape fully and quickly took off his own robe and then pushed Snape to the floor and, on all fours over his prone body, Lupin kissed and bit and sucked across Snape's chest and down to his stomach, littering Snape's body with his possessive marks. Snape grasped at Lupin's shoulders and hair as he stretched and writhed underneath him, loudly moaning encouragement, each bite shooting more desire to his gut and groin, making his body pulse until Lupin's tongue found the tip of Snape's erection, feathered it lightly and then ran his tongue and lips and guarded teeth along it, making Snape moan with every glorious touch as his eyes rolled back in his head as he burbled Lupin's name.

There was only a moment's hesitation, but it seemed like an age to be kept on this precipice of ecstasy. Snape let out a plea like a sob to Lupin, grabbing his hair hard. With that, Lupin took all of Snape into his mouth, and Snape cried out, arching back, feeling his orgasm rising as Lupin sucked on him greedily, his tongue swirling as he moved his head away before swallowing Snape whole once more. The sheer brilliance of the sensations sent Snape over the crest of his orgasm, as he came hard, his body juddering as his hands clasped once more at Lupin's hair as he drained him, his hands holding Snape's pelvis and then kissed all the way up his body once more to face him and kiss him.

"I want only you," murmured Lupin, as Snape stroked his face, and Lupin reached down between Snape's legs, his fingers preparing him gently at first, then more insistently as he found his sweet spot and made him groan loudly.

Lupin looped his arm under Snape's leg to push it high up, never removing his gaze from Snape's and then pushed into him slowly, his eyelids fluttering at the sensation of Snape's muscles engulfing him. Lupin rocked gently into him and Snape gasped at each sensation, as Lupin loved him slowly and deeply, kissing him and caressing him, making him hard once more, then thrusting into him deeply and rhythmically until Snape cried out into Lupin's hair his second hard release as Lupin bent his body over him in his own hard, thrust of orgasm. Lupin gently pumped out his own last pulses and covered Snape's body with his own, kissing his face gently, until they both had calmed.

"Only your eyes, your voice, your body," Lupin said in barely a whisper now as he stared into Snape's eyes. But an ugly thought crossed Snape's mind, at once sharpening his jealousy again and, stupidly, he gave voice to it.

"I suppose she can always take my form if your creature demands sex when I'm not there," he jibed acidly.

"How could you say that? Why would you?" gasped Lupin as his eyes widened with shock and hurt. Then he pulled himself out of Snape's body, got up fast and strode out of the drawing room.

Still dishevelled and naked on the drawing room floor, Snape shakily sat up, shaking himself at his own crassness. Snape staggered up and then followed Lupin only to find that the the bathroom door was locked. Neither of them had ever ever shut the bathroom door when they were alone before. Snape stood outside the door, suddenly feeling as locked out of Lupin's heart as he was of the bathroom. Why had he said such a stupid thing? He ran his hands through his hair and then pressed his ear to the door. He heard the shower drumming away.

He leant against the wall and slid down it until he sat on the floor, cursing himself and his stupid mouth and his ridiculous jealousy. He waited with his heart in his mouth and the back of his head resting against the wall. He could have sworn it was well over half an hour until he heard the shower stop. He stood quickly and tapped lightly on the door.

"Please let me in, Remus."

When there was no answer, he tapped again. He felt the magic on the door release and he opened it. Lupin looked at him sadly and carried on towelling himself dry. Snape breathed in deeply seeing Lupin's skin was very red, just like Snape's got when he ran the shower too hot. He went over and asked for the towel. Lupin passed it to him and Snape dried Lupin gently, taking his time. When he had finished, he kissed Lupin's lips softly.

"I'm sorry, Remus. Please come to bed with me," said Snape, his eyes beseeching Lupin's. Ah, but they looked so wounded.

"I know how you feel, Severus. I don't know how to convince you other than how I have already. I don't know why you won't listen to me, but I know you don't trust me." Snape could hear the catch in Lupin's voice and he tried to interrupt, but Lupin raised his hand to Snape's lips.

"How do you think this feels for me, Severus? That my mate cannot be with me? That I have to sit away from you at meetings? That I cannot even greet you with a kiss? That if I stick up for you too much, Albus will tell me later to watch my step or I will blow your cover? That I have to listen to my mate being called a bastard, when I know your soul? I hold your soul as you hold mine! That with all that we go through to be together ... you distrust me? That if I were just a man, not a beast, we could just be together and you would have no reason to distrust me ...?"

"No, Remus! You must not think these things!" Snape said forcefully, pulling Lupin into his own arms now. Lupin would drive himself mad thinking on these things, Snape knew. What had Snape done? "I am sorry. I am just ... so weak. I find it so hard not to imagine ..." Snape held Lupin's face in his hands firmly. "Please. I beg you: forgive me."

"Your jealousy scares me, Severus," whispered Lupin. "Please try to trust me."

"I promise, Remus. I promise." Snape didn't let Lupin's head from his hands, but brought it forward so their lips met, and they kissed searchingly until Snape felt the tension ease from Lupin's shoulders. "Please come to bed."

As Snape led Lupin back to their bedroom, he knew he could not stop his irrational feelings. They spoke of Snape's very deepest insecurity that Lupin's love was more – so much more - than he deserved. But Snape couldn't hurt Lupin, couldn't bear to hurt him. He had to cover his jealousy; he had to hide it from Lupin. He could dissemble. He was a master of concealment, after all. Yes, that was what he needed to do.

oooOOOooo

Another Obliviated visit to Wilkes elicited the whereabouts of the children of Audley, Darvill and Lucas. Snape went to survey the derelict warehouse in which they were being held. Without doubt, considering the size of it, Snape was sure a ritual was intended.

He hastily applied a Glamour and transfigured his robes to ordinary Muggle clothes. Producing his enchanted parchment to resemble a police warrant card, he questioned various Muggles – those in suits who looked the most respectable - who worked nearby if they had heard anything suspicious recently. With just the right application of Legilimency, at least twelve Muggles were convinced of suspicious activity involving trafficked children in that warehouse by the end of the interviews and each rushed off to the Muggle law enforcement to report their suspicions.

Snape had ensured that enough 'trigger' words and phrases, such as "He said abracadabra or something like that," and "came and went like magic" and "had a wand like a magician, dunno why," and "ugly bloke, with teeth like a werewolf," would be repeated so that the Covert Liaison Department between Muggle and magical law enforcement would be alerted.

So it was that within an hour of the first reports being filed, Aurors swept over the warehouses and found the children, together with five other Muggle children, of whose disappearance the magical world would have been unaware.

If Snape said so himself, sometimes his art of concealment was very effective indeed.

The Dark Lord was, of course, furious when he called the Death Eaters to him. Snape was spared the blood penance now his own blood was to be utilised for the Dark Lord's potion. He was not spared the Cruciatus however.

Eight young lives. It was a good price, Snape thought as he took his post-Cruciatus potion. School term was due to start in a few days and he still felt he needed to apologise to Lupin for distressing him so. He told the Dark Lord that Dumbledore expected him at the castle early knowing that the Dark Lord rarely called him once Snape was at the castle. He took a gamble that he would not do so for these few days. He told Dumbledore the truth: he was taking Lupin away for a few days. Just a few days, on their own.

oooOOOooo

Snape had found a tiny Muggle bed and breakfast in Padstow, Cornwall. It was a chocolate box cottage and they had a double room with an en-suite bathroom. It was a five minute walk to the sea, and the sea-front was teeming with small seafood restaurants. Apart from that, there wasn't much to do, and that was precisely why Snape had chosen it.

Perhaps neither of them had realised how very much they had needed to be alone together, without the business of werewolf packs, Order meetings, Death Eater meetings, potions brewing or anything else to distract them from each other.

They spent most of the time in bed together, resting in each other's arms as they spoke about all the things happening around them and to them. They also made love a great deal, too. They walked around the town, occasionally having a drink or two in a local pub, dining on the freshly-caught fish every night in the small restaurants. It was bliss.

The last night, they had walked along the sea-front until Lupin spotted a deep, cool cove and insisted they investigate it. Lupin had pulled Snape inside and made love to him in the sand, with the sound of sea in the background. It had been so beautiful, Snape had not wanted to leave, and they talked, lying in the sand, until they fell asleep in each other's arms once more.

Snape awoke with the sharp, salted air prickling inside his nose and tasting its crisp tang on his tongue. He opened his eyes, aware that he and Lupin still held each other from the night before. He sat up in the sand, drawing in the saline-edged air deep into his lungs, feeling it cleanse them as the air tingled on his skin with just a touch of dawn chill.

Snape watched the sunrise: the ultramarine above that faded to grey, that paled as the rose leaked upwards, pushed away by the pink, then the peach under that until the gold glowed at the horizon, at first just a pool of light that slowly rose until the hemisphere of gold nestled on calm of sea at the horizon pushing at the peach, pink and rose darkening above to deep grey, rolling away the last of the ultramarine night. It was magnificent to behold.

"You're awake early," Lupin's sleep-deep voice said into his ear as he sat up behind Snape.

"I usually am," Snape replied softly, holding his hand to the face that leant into his hair. "But I don't normally have anything like this to see."

"It's a beautiful sunrise," murmured Lupin, draping his arms loosely around Snape's waist and resting his chin on his shoulder.

"I so very rarely have the chance just to look around me anymore," Snape sighed and leant back into Lupin's chest. "Just to watch."

"No, no chance at all," Lupin agreed softly, and they watched the sun rise fully to morning, before they dressed to make their way back.

oooOOOooo

Snape brought Lupin back to Hogwarts with him for this last night before term resumed. Lupin was due to try to infiltrate a group of underworld werewolves in Manchester the next day and they wanted to be close to each other as long as they could.

After lunch in his chambers, Snape left for a staff meeting to set the curriculum for the coming year. The meeting took most of the day, as it always did, but he knew Tippy would provide for Lupin's refreshment, if required.

Late afternoon, Snape returned to hear Lupin and Tippy in conversation. He peered around the bedroom door to see them engaged in a construction of magical mirrors around the tiny rectangular slash of the dungeon window.

"Severus!" called Lupin, happily, and Tippy clapped her hands together. Snape's mouth quirked at them both. "Severus, come and see."

Snape walked over to the construction, a group of small fixtures angling the mirrors fixed above his small window. Snape investigated the structure thoroughly, his long finger tracing all the joints and levers. He heard Tippy giggle behind him.

"Look, Severus," Lupin said. Snape looked up at Lupin and then followed his hand to the wall.

There, on the opposite wall was a large landscape frame and within it, seen as if through a large picture window rather than the dungeon-light window that it was, was the view to the east of the castle, the direction of sunrise. Snape sat heavily on the edge of his bed, as if winded, to take in the beauty of the view. Lupin sat next to him.

"Do you like it, Severus?" Lupin said, excitedly.

"It's beautiful," said Snape, trying to take in all of the rugged highland mountainscape. He had had dungeon accommodation both as a student and as a teacher, and at Spinner's End, there was little beauty to be seen from his bedroom window. To have this to look at whenever he wanted almost took his breath away. It was like looking at – freedom.

"How did you do it?" asked Snape, his eyes searching the panoramic view.

Lupin grabbed Snape's hand and took him back to the mechanism and excitedly told him that he'd had the idea whilst Snape was at the staff meeting. He had worked out the design and then permanently Charmed the mirrors to be periscopic. Finally, he had asked Tippy to help him with the permanent construction spells for the mirrors as only staff and house-elves were enabled to perform such fixing spells on the castle walls.

"And look!" Lupin said with a broad smile. He moved the mirrors on their pivots and the view on the wall changed to the west side of the castle. Snape took in a breath sharply at the red and amber glow settling between the peaks of the mountains. "Because sunset is also beautiful."

oooOOOooo

They had made love under the glow of the sunset that evening, and Snape wondered how it was that Lupin always managed to capture Snape's desires for him, physically and emotionally, as if the mirrored window would help Snape to recall their times of sunrise and sunset together when he needed his memories to be strong. It seemed to Snape that each summer they had less time together, not more. How long? Just how long would it be before Dumbledore's secret plans for the end of the Dark Lord came to fruition, he wondered. He snapped out of his reverie as Dumbledore finished his instructions to tuck in to the feast.

Snape eyed the newly-Sorted Slytherins as they struggled manfully with the huge portions of food set out for the main course of the Welcoming Feast. His eyes raked the Gryffindor table, but there was still no sign of Potter. He caught Dumbledore watching the open giant double doors.

Just then, Snape spotted the ethereal silver glow of a Patronus coming through the Entrance Hall. He left the table and strode swiftly towards it, recognising it had the form of a wolf.

Snape's eyes narrowed as he neared it in the Entrance Hall. There was no doubt it was almost a facsimile of Lupin's Patronus. He knew it as well as he knew his own. But this was a poor copy – indistinct. It was overlapping the features of another wolf. Snape thought he recognised that other wolf but he could not put a name to it. What could it mean?

Then it spoke with the voice of Nymphadora Tonks and Snape understood. The realisation sparked his temper. He knew it had been a dangerous plan. This confirmed it. He only vaguely listened to the babbled nonsense about her having found Potter hexed on the train. He grabbed a lantern and marched off towards the gate to get Potter, his jaw set in possessive fury. As he approached the gates, he saw the two of them – the thorns in his side – standing together at the gate. Tonks still looked drab and unhappy. Under other circumstances, he might sympathise with her: he certainly didn't know how he would cope if he lost Lupin. But he had seen her Patronus now. He knew for sure what it meant, whatever Lupin might think.

' **Well, well, well,' sneered Snape, taking out his wand and tapping the padlock once, so that the chains snaked backwards and the gates creaked open. 'Nice of you to turn up, Potter, although you have evidently decided that the wearing of school robes would detract from your appearance.'**

' **I couldn't change, I didn't have my -'** the boy **began, but Snape cut across him** as he took in the baleful look Tonks was giving him **.**

' **There's no need to wait, Nymphadora** ," Snape sneered, emphasising the name he knew she hated. " **Potter is quite – ah – safe in my hands.'**

' **I meant Hagrid to get the message,' said Tonks, frowning.**

' **Hagrid was late for the start-of-term feast, just like Potter here, so I took it instead. And incidentally,' said Snape, standing back to allow Harry to pass him, 'I was interested to see your new Patronus.'**

The jealous creature reared in his own chest and h **e shut the gates in her face with a loud clang and tapped the chains with his wand again.**

' **I think you were better off with the old one,' said Snape,** furious that she was starting to transfer her affections to Lupin so clearly.

That damned bite! There was still time. The changes to her Patronus had not fully formed and settled. Not like his with Lily. He certainly wasn't going to let her think he hadn't noticed **. 'The new one looks weak.'**

 **As Snape swung the lantern about,** he saw his barb had hit home as he **saw a look of shock and anger on Tonks's face. Then she was covered in darkness once more.**

The brat called out, **'Goodnight,'** to her and then **he began the walk up to the school with Snape. 'Thanks for ... everything.'**

 **Snape did not speak for a minute or so.** He took in the blood that covered the boy and wondered whether to check him for injury. Tonks had brought him. She would have told Snape if a student had been injured, surely. Of course she would. She was an Auror: she knew such information would be important. No. Whoever that student had been, Snape was sure he would probably turn up injured in the infirmary soon enough, tight-lipped about the identity of the perpetrator, just like Snape himself used to be.

Snape could almost feel the **waves of hatred** that emanated from the boy, doubtless blaming Snape for his own irrational actions, as Snape strode back the castle, trying to keep his anger in check. If the brat did but know ...

' **Fifty points from Gryffindor for lateness, I think,' said Snape** resentfully **. 'And, let me see, another twenty for your Muggle attire. You know, I don't believe any house has ever been in negative figures this early in the term – we haven't even started pudding. You might have set a record, Potter.'**

He waited to hear Potter's latest excuses. Even a reason would be interesting but the boy stood there, impudently facing him down, covered in someone's blood without so much as an attempt to explain himself. _Arrogant! Just like his father!_ Snape seethed; angry with Potter; angrier still with Tonks's trespass.

' **I suppose you wanted to make an entrance, did you?' Snape continued. 'And with no flying car available you decided that bursting into the Great Hall halfway through the feast ought to create a dramatic effect.'**

 **Still** the brat refused to explain himself. Did the brat seriously think that Snape had nothing better to do than **come to fetch him**?Well **,** at least he could **needle and torment** the boyto try to get an answer.

As t **hey reached the castle steps** , Snape saw Potter fingering at the Invisibility Cloak in his pocket. No, that much he would not allow.

**Snape said, 'No Cloak. You can walk in so that everyone sees you, which is what you wanted, I'm sure.'**

He watched Potter scuttle to the table and the know-it-all, Granger, siphon the blood away then he saw from the corner of eye **Draco Malfoy miming the shattering of a nose to raucous laughter and applause.** He felt a small sinking sensation in his stomach, and rested his chin in the cup of his hand. So, Draco had already come to blows with Potter. If the enmity between the two escalated, how on earth was he to fulfil both of the vows he had taken?

Then, Snape noticed that a number of the more astute students had seen Dumbledore's hand. He had done nothing to cover it. **Whispers swept the room. Dumbledore, interpreting them correctly, merely smiled and shook his purple and gold sleeve over his injury.**

He started to make his usual address to introduce changes in teaching staff. Snape waited with keen anticipation for what was to come.

' **We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year. Professor Slughorn,' Slughorn stood up ... 'is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master.'**

' **Potions?'**

' ** _Potions?'_**

 **The word echoed all over the Hall as people wondered whether they had heard right.** Despite knowing that this fulfilment of his desire was the result of Dumbledore's machinations that would ultimately lead to tragedy, he could not help but feel a small frisson of triumph watching the confusion on the students' faces as they muttered in frenzied conjecture.

' **Professor Snape, meanwhile,' said Dumbledore, raising his voice so that it carried over all the muttering, 'will be taking over the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.'**

' **No!' said** Potter **, so loudly that many heads turned in his direction.** The brat **did not care; he was staring up at** Snape **, incensed.**

Determined to look as if he was taking it in his stride, **Snape, who was sitting on Dumbledore's right, did not stand up at the mention of his name, merely raised a hand in acknowledgement of the applause from the Slytherin table** but no other **.**

 **Dumbledore cleared his throat** to quell **the whole Hall** , which **had erupted in a buzz of conversation at the news that Snape had finally achieved his heart's desire. Seemingly oblivious to the sensational nature of the news he had just imparted, Dumbledore said nothing more about staff appointments.** Snape wished he could be happier about it. But, of course, that post was no longer his heart's desire – he briefly touched the bonding circlet. He already had that. At least, until he killed the man who had just made that announcement. This and the clear attraction of Tonks to his husband made Snape's stomach turn over violently. He had to confront Dumbledore again.

 

* * *


	81. The Tangled Web

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes in bold from Chapter 9 of HBP are © J.K. Rowling

Yes, Snape could honestly say this post was cursed, but possibly not in the way he had been led to believe.

 **Snape had imposed** what he thought was a proper degree of severity on his new class room. Even if the students didn't realise how much they would need to gain and hone all defensive skills now the Dark Lord was revealed and the disappearances had recommenced in earnest, Snape knew and he would try to equip their armoury. It was vital that they understood the types of enemy they would face, enemies who would have no compunction about maiming or killing a child, or using Dark creatures or even Inferi to do it for them. He illustrated this with n **ew pictures adorn** ing **the walls, many of them showing people who appeared to be in pain, sporting grisly injuries or strangely contorted body parts.**

His first lesson of the new academic year had been second year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. In fairness, they had had no proper grounding whatsoever, having had Umbridge as their Defence professor last year. Every question he posed to them was either met by a barrage of text book answers from the appalling little know-it-alls of Ravenclaw or the helpless terror of Hufflepuffs. Teaching defensive theory was a dull as ditch-water, but this was the grounding that he needed to teach them. He hoped that they could learn basic defensive spells come next term. These were times where even twelve year olds needed to be able to defend themselves in duelling, and he would do a damn sight better job of it than Gilderoy Lockhart!

After lunch, his N.E.W.T. class. Potter's class. He sighed heavily as he heard them jabbering outside. **Snape stepped into the corridor** and s **ilence fell over the queue immediately.**

' **Inside,' he said.**

 **Nobody spoke as they settled down, looking around at the shadowy, gruesome pictures.** Snape saw Granger getting out her text book. He suppressed a sneer that she could second-guess what he would do in this class. Book learning, for once, would not assist her.

' **I have not asked you to take out your books,' said Snape, closing the door and moving to face the class from behind his desk. 'I wish to speak to you and I want your fullest attention.'**

 **His black eyes roved over their upturned faces, lingering for a fraction of a second longer on** Potter **'s than anyone else's** , wondering if this year, the child would listen to him; this year when he needed to most **.**

' **You have had five teachers in subject to far, I believe. Naturally, these teachers will all have had their own methods and priorities. Given this confusion I am surprised so many of you scraped an O.W.L. in this subject. I shall be even more surprised if all of you manage to keep up with the N.E.W.T. work, which will be much more advanced.'**

 **Snape set off around the edge of the room, speaking now in a lower voice** to force **the class** to **crane their necks to keep him in view** and to listen **.**

' **The Dark Arts,' said Snape, 'are many, varied, ever-changing and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible.'**

He wondered if he could ever make children with the pedestrian intelligence of most in this class understand just how formidable the Dark Arts were, how they could enthral and ensnare with their inherent magnetism and power until one was their slave, locked in a cycle of ever-increasing Darkness. It took courage and will not to follow the Dark and easy path. No-one knew this better than he.

' **Your defences,' said Snape, a little louder, 'must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the Arts you seek to undo. These pictures,' he indicated a few of them as he swept past, 'give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse' (he waved a handed towards a witch who was clearly shrieking in agony) 'feel the Dementor's Kiss' (a wizard lying huddled and blank-eyed slumped against a wall) 'or provoke the aggression of the Inferius' (a bloody mass upon the ground).**

' **Has an Inferius been seen, then?'** squeaked **Parvati Patil. 'Is it definite, is he using them?'**

' **The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past,' said Snape,** as he returned to the front of the class room, **'which means you would be well-advised to assume he might use them again. Now, you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of non-verbal spells? What is the advantage of a non-verbal spell?'**

 **Snape took his time looking around at everybody else,** wishing just once the whole class were not so lazy as to rely on Granger to answer. He was sure _someone else_ must have read ahead. Again, **he had no choice. 'Very well – Miss Granger?'**

' **Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform,' said** Granger **, 'which gives you a split-second advantage.'**

' **An answer copied almost word for word from _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6_ ,' said Snape dismissively** ignoring Malfoy sniggering **over in the corner, 'but correct in essentials. Yes, those who progress to using magic without shouting incantations gain an element of surprise in their spell-casting, Not all wizards can do this, of course; it is a question of concentration and mind power which some,' his gaze lingered maliciously upon** Potter **once more, 'lack.'**

 **Snape** knew Potter would understand he was referring to **their disastrous Occlumency lessons of the previous year.** The arrogant fool still hadn't learnt any humility even though his arrogance had cost his godfather his life! Snape mentally sneered at the boy who **refused to drop his gaze but glowered at Snape until Snape** bored of him and **looked away.**

' **You will now divide,' Snape went on, 'into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other _without speaking._ The other will attempt to repel the jinx _in equal silence._ Carry on.'**

This was something Snape was most anxious for his classes to learn. Certainly, any duelling with Death Eaters Potter was determined to engage in this year would benefit from this, Snape thought snidely. He watched as a **reasonable amount of cheating ensued; many people were merely whispering the incantation instead of saying it aloud.** Snape **swept between them as they practised, lingering to watch** Potter **and** Weasley **struggling with the task.**

Snape could not help but draw the comparison to the easy magic of the house-elf. Only last week when he had awoken early, he had watched from the bedroom door as Tippy had snapped her fingers and wordlessly Summoned every single one of Snape's buttons to herself and then repaired Snape's robe. As nice as it would be to indulge in _that_ memory, all it demonstrated to him at _this_ time was that house-elf magic seemed vastly superior at this moment to the spectacle he was forced to witness.

Weasley **was purple in the face, his lips tightly compressed.** Potter **had his wand raised, waiting on tenterhooks to repel a jinx that seemed unlikely ever to come.**

' **Pathetic, Weasley,' said Snape, after a while. 'Here - let me show you -'**

 **He turned his wand on** Potter, to which **he yelled, _'Protego!'_**

Well, thought Snape, there's no faulting h **is Shield Charm,** which **was so strong** that **Snape was knocked off-balance and hit a desk.** Snape was acutely aware that the **whole class had looked round and now watched as** he **righted himself, scowling.**

' **Do you remember me telling you we are practising _non-verbal_ spells, Potter?'** he snarled, reigning in his own temper.

' **Yes,' said** Potter **stiffly.**

' **Yes, _sir_** , **'** Snape corrected.

' **There's no need to call me "sir", Professor.'**

 _The impertinent little brat!_ Snape thought as he fought the instinct to hex the boy with a damn sight worse than the tripping jinx he'd been planning. Snape heard s **everal people gasp** and knew the boy's idiot friends would be grinning inanely b **ehind** him **.**

_Just like his father!_

' **Detention, Saturday night, my office,' said Snape. 'I do not take cheek from anyone, Potter ... not even the _Chosen One._ '**

With that, he turned away from Potter, and went to assist Malfoy and Zabini instead. Even there, only Zabini seemed keen to have any type of assistance and Malfoy avoided his attempts to engage him.

oooOOOooo

"He's just like his father!" Snape spat as he paced before Dumbledore's desk, still smarting with offence. "Rude! Arrogant! And his nasty little friends laughing behind my back ..."

"Severus," Dumbledore interjected softly. "He is a child. And students laugh behind teachers' backs. They always have."

Snape's brow furrowed as his lip curled. "No, I shouldn't have expected you to be concerned about Potter's rudeness to me. I should like to see Malfoy behave like that to Minerva and not receive detention and your disapprobation into the bargain," Snape hissed and sat down suddenly in front of Dumbledore.

"You know, Albus, how important it is for the boy to hone his duelling skills for what is to come," said Snape, sighing with resignation. "It is important for him to trust what I have to teach him."

"No doubt, the incursions you made into his mind have made him distrust you, Severus," said Dumbledore mildly.

"Which I did on your orders, Albus!" snarled Snape, pointing accusingly at Dumbledore.

"I know, I know, Severus," said Dumbledore, with a pacifying gesture. "I will be seeing Harry for special lessons. I will try to speak to him of this when I see him on Saturday."

"I have given him detention for Saturday," said Snape.

"Not this Satuday, Severus," advised Dumbledore with a small smile, as Snape's eyes narrowed.

"So you will undermine my authority with the boy even further!" Snape bit out through clenched teeth.

"I am the headmaster, Severus," Dumbledore said with amused finality. "These lessons are important."

"What special lessons?" asked Snape, apprehensive that even more secrets were to be kept from him.

"That is not for you to know at this stage. Suffice it to say, you have your important tasks with Voldemort, as Harry will have his. We each have our part to play."

Snape's jaw set with annoyance. Why did Dumbledore have to envelop everything in secrecy and platitudes?

"Now, Severus, I'm sure you have much to do."

Angry at the flippant dismissal, Snape swept out.

oooOOOooo

It was like having Sirius Black back to life, but without the understanding they had reached before he had died. The worst of it was that Lupin was not there to take the curse off it, but in Manchester with the urban wolves. Snape found he could live with a fair amount of disdain if he had Lupin to look at surreptitiously, and then Lupin to himself after the meeting. As it was, the meeting had been long and unpleasant.

As the last matter discussed, Kingsley informed the meeting of the rescue of the eight children, three magical and five Muggle, and their re-location abroad, following which, the meeting broke up.

As Snape moved to leave the kitchen, he saw Tonks shoot him a barely disguised look of disgust.

"I mean what _does_ he do? _He's_ supposed to get us this information. If it hadn't been for those Muggles reporting it, those children would be lost," Tonks said, in that stage whisper of hers to Kingsley who at least had the good grace to look embarrassed. "When I think of how Remus endangers himself constantly, while _he_ slithers about _claiming_ to be spying for us ..."

Snape wasn't going to listen to any more of Tonks's ignorant insults. How dearly he would liked to have said that he took the Cruciatus curse because those children had been freed by his machinations. Just as he made the door, he heard Tomks sigh:

"I wish there was a way I could speak to him. I worry about him so much when he's away, y'know."

"There, there, dear," consoled Molly. "I know."

Snape felt his stomach churn as he stalked the hall to the library. As he grabbed some Floo powder, he folded his long fingers around the mirror he always carried with him now and closed his eyes briefly.

Snape had this, not _her_. He sighed heavily as he called the destination of the Headmaster's office. He couldn't wait to speak to Lupin later that night. He wouldn't mention what he'd heard tonight. He'd promised himself he wouldn't show his jealousy to Lupin, but at least, he would see him.

oooOOOooo

The following weeks had been turgid.

He had only managed to speak to Lupin another three times. Each of those times had been hurried and brief, but at least he knew Lupin was safe. Lupin was sure he was making headway with a few of the werewolves, so Snape arranged for delivery of Lupin's Wolfsbane through the owl service of an Apothecarial connection in Manchester, although the Wolfsbane was his own brew.

Classes had been dull, detentions duller. Snape swore he could see the resentment shimmering from Potter's rangy frame. It was of no matter to him. He dared say the boy would never learn respect for him, especially when other teachers thought Snape's detentions were flies in the ointment of _special_ lessons or clubs to single out _favourite_ students (Snape sneered) but that didn't mean that Snape couldn't challenge it.

On top of that, Malfoy was avoiding him. When Snape called the weekly House meetings, Malfoy would avoid Snape's eyes and scuttle away early, so unlike his behaviour of previous years, where Malfoy had almost verged on adulation of Snape. No matter, no matter. Snape would leave it for now, but not for much longer. He would have to seek Malfoy out if he continued to avoid him.

He had not been called to the Dark Lord, but he had attended upon him whenever he knew he would have enough free time so he could find out the latest plans and schemes. Of course, the Dark Lord believed fully that it was Snape's loyal desire to be by his master's side. Snape did nothing to disabuse the Dark Lord of this notion. He fawned and bowed as much as any other.

At least, Dumbledore didn't expect this type of knee-scraping. No, his torture of Snape was far more subtle. Since that evening of the first day of lessons, Dumbledore seemed to be away a great deal. He did not tell Snape where he was going or why. All Snape knew was that he seemed to get no opportunity to speak to Dumbledore about Lupin. It was infuriating.

The next time he saw Dumbledore was at the next Order meeting.

"Where do you keep going without telling anyone?" asked Snape as they arrived in the library.

"It is the purpose of my not telling anyone, Severus, that they should not know," Dumbledore responded maddeningly.

"Well, you need to tell me when you go at least, if not why!" said Snape petulantly. "It is time to re-cast and take your elixir," he hissed as they approached the kitchen.

"You are right, Severus. Thank you for reminding me," Dumbledore smiled beatifically, and they entered the kitchen to be greeted by smiles and warm greetings for Dumbledore, guarded salutations or looks of mistrust for Snape.

Each reported. Kingsley and Tonks reported on disappearances that had been reported to the Ministry and efforts to track the Disappeared. Moody was involved in investigating informally, together with Hestia and Arthur. All reported that they were being followed. It was difficult to get to Order meetings but Dumbledore had enchanted most of their Floos to confuse any illegal tracking, but all were encouraged to Apparate or fly, if possible. Bill had forged good links with a few particular goblins at Gringotts who were keen to ensure a degree of resistance to the Dark Lord, his antipathy to other magical creatures being well-known to them. These few were supplying Bill with cash movements from vaults to known supporters of the Dark Lord. It was a useful source of information on the identity of new acolytes or, indeed, possible Imperius victims.

"Professor Dumbledore, do we know if Remus is all right?" Tonks asked urgently as Dumbledore drew the meeting to a close.

There was a pause before Dumbledore said, "We keep in contact through certain channels, Nymphadora. I can tell you that Remus is fine."

Snape's jaw worked as he struggled to maintain his composure, watching Tonks simper as Molly patted her hand. It didn't matter what Lupin said; Snape knew what he was seeing. The woman was in love in with Lupin, whether he encouraged her or not. Snape tore his eyes away, feeling the heat of Dumbledore's gaze on him.

Dumbledore called the meeting to an end and Molly began to fuss around the pots that had been stirring themselves during the meeting. Snape couldn't deny, the smell of the food was tantalising his taste-buds. He hadn't had any of Molly's cooking since Lupin had lived in Grimmauld Place when he would transport a bowl or plate up to Snape secretly. It was odd that, now it had stopped, he missed this minor inclusion. What did it matter? Tippy would make him anything he desired. Tippy would squeal with delight to make him anything he desired. He didn't really understand the knotted sensation he had in his stomach, and he made to leave.

"It's full moon tomorrow, Albus," he said quietly to Dumbledore. "I need to re-cast tonight."

"I will follow shortly, Severus. Please wait for me when you get back to my office."

Snape stalked away, seething at his dismissal – yet again.

"Snape!"

He turned quickly, wand at the ready, to see Tonks following him up the hall.

"I want to talk to you," she demanded.

Snape sneered at the tone of the Auror, as if she were intercepting a sneak-thief, and turned away from her as he turned into the library.

"Please!" she said, adjusting her tone.

"What is it, Miss Tonks?" Snape spat, spinning around to face her, an expression of impatient distaste on his face, which he was sure matched the distaste on her own.

"I wanted to ask you …" she wavered as she stood before him, and Snape knew – he just knew – this would be about Lupin. "A favour. I wanted to ask for a favour."

"A favour from me, Miss Tonks?" sneered Snape as he stood before the fire place, his stance unyielding. "How unpleasant for you."

"It's about tomorrow," she said. _As I thought it would be,_ thought Snape unhappily. "Can you ... that is, will you ... come later after the full moon because ..."

"No, Miss Tonks. I will do no such thing," Snape cut in icily.

"You could at least do me the courtesy of listening to me, Snape!"

"Courtesy, Miss Tonks? When exactly, may I ask, have you shown any courtesy to me?" Snape's lip curled to see her pallid complexion flush. "Odd, how those who are so very discourteous believe it is their right to demand courtesy from those they do not respect."

"If you would just give me some time with Remus! That's all I'm asking," she blurted. "I could make him see ..."

"See what, Miss Tonks? Make him love you, perhaps? So very soon after your last beloved passed away ..."

"How did you know about David?" she gasped, her face now draining white.

"It was obvious to anyone with eyes to see. So now you want another pooch to replace him."

"How dare you! Remus is a greater man than you could ever be! Sirius was right about you ..." she sneered, her heart-shaped face, ugly with anger and hurt.

"He may well have been, Miss Tonks. If he were alive, you could compare notes with each other about what a foul man I am. Unfortunately, you were unable to duel your own aunt, and your dear cousin paid the price for your incompetence, did he not. Now. I must return ..."

"... to your dank dungeon and your loneliness, Snape. You really are a ..."

"... greasy git? How adult. How very dull of you. Your wit matches your new look, Miss Tonks." Tonks gasped and stepped back from Snape, but Snape continued. "I do not care that you are nursing a crush on our pet werewolf. I have a job to do with him, and your misguided amorous intentions are of no interest to me. When I arrive, you will leave. I trust that is understood."

"And if I don't ...?" Tonks squared up to him. Snape smiled, unpleasantly.

"I will throw you out on your backside, _Nymphadora_ , and let neither of us pretend that it wouldn't be child's play for me to do so."

"Remus wants me there," she protested weakly.

"No, Miss Tonks. You want him to want you there."

"You're wrong. In time, you'll see ... I can care for him after the full moon. Nobody needs or wants you."

"Enough of this, Miss Tonks! I have far more important matters awaiting me."

oooOOOooo

Severus Snape was a jealous man.

He knew it. He knew it was his failing, his most desperate weakness. He had returned to the Headmaster's office, and re-cast the counter-curse and administered the elixir, but he did not stay to speak with Dumbledore. His mind raced, not with insults – he was well used to those – but with her assertions of Lupin _wanting_ her.

He only managed to find any solace with his life now because of Lupin. His sleep was always troubled or denied to him completely because of his promise to Dumbledore. All his actions on behalf of the Dark Lord he always confessed to Lupin. Confession to Lupin always soothed his soul because he was still loved. And yet this one secret for Dumbledore – this secret that was so terrible – he could not tell. Now, to add to this, he lay awake all night, at war within his own mind, the words of Tonks whirling around in his head.

What if Lupin _had_ told her he preferred her to be there? What if Lupin was just being kind to Snape? Pitying him, because he was so needy and unworthy? Round and around it played in his head. It was no use. He couldn't sleep. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and held his head in his hands. At least, there were no classes today.

He went to the bathroom and ran a shower, hoping it would make him feel better. As he stood under it, he ran his hands over his body, washing it. Such a pallid body. So ... thin. He looked at his legs. Lupin had said he had liked Snape's long legs, hadn't he? _Tonks has long legs. She can have any type of legs Lupin wants,_ a sly voice said to him. He carried on washing, taking in his hip bones, his flat stomach, his visible rib-cage. Lupin wasn't skinny like Snape. Not pallid like Snape. He washed his chest and found it racked with a sob as he squeezed his eyes shut in self-loathing and let the hot water drum over his upturned face until he leant back against the tiles.

 _I am such an ugly man_ , he thought. _Who would love such an ugly man?_ His eyes flew open. Perhaps, perhaps, Lupin wanted a change. A woman, soft with curves, not hard angular planes. Lupin had liked women. He had said so. Enjoyed sex with them. Perhaps, perhaps, Lupin couldn't deny that part of himself anymore? Perhaps, he wanted what Snape could never be. Snape scrubbed at his skin harder and harder still.

He couldn't share him. He just couldn't. Snape stopped scrubbing, realising he was breathless and his skin raw on his arms where he had scrubbed too hard.

It was the full moon tonight. He would see Lupin later. He would know.

oooOOOooo

When Snape arrived, he saw Lupin's light cloak hanging up and knew Lupin was already home. _Thank Merlin!_ He would not have to pace the room whilst he waited. He put down the ceremonial casket, and took off his own cloak. There was no sign of Tippy. He breathed in deeply.

Snape could smell Lupin already, his musk always so much stronger when he'd been with other werewolves. He also smelt the soap Lupin must have used when he had arrived home, but nothing could mask that strong scent. Snape closed his eyes and inhaled the scent deeply. The musk aroused him immediately and he hardened painfully.

"Severus." Lupin's voice was more a growl. Snape didn't open his eyes. He sensed Lupin walk slowly around him, like a predator stalking his prey. Snape's skin prickled as the hair rose on his body, and he breathed in sharply through his slightly open mouth. He opened his eyes to see Lupin, scrubbed and naked in front of him.

As Lupin grasped Snape to himself, any doubts were obliterated as Lupin's mouth enveloped his own. Lupin's strong, large hands pulled at Snape's clothes, as Snape gasped for breath, his mind fogging over with thick, hot desire, and all questions and doubts were erased as Lupin drained him and filled him and Claimed him once more.

oooOOOooo

Snape Apparated precisely onto the front door step of Grimmauld Place before moonset, and let himself in quietly. He had long had the knack of keeping his presence from Mrs. Black. He swept up the stairs without a sound and waited outside what used to be Lupin's room. He heard the murmur of Tonks's voice as he unconsciously rubbed at the newly-healed gash on his inner arm.

"There, there, Remus. It will be over soon. Then I need to talk to you," she said softly.

He pressed his hand to the door to open it once the reversion was over, and immediately felt the quick vibration of wards sting through his hand. The bitch had set wards against him! He gritted his teeth in anger as he cast to reveal them and then bring them down, his mind raging against her.

_Did she think the wards of a young woman like her, Auror or not, would keep him out? Keep him away from Lupin? He, Severus Snape, who had broken the wards of far greater sorcerers than she could ever hope to be when he was younger than she – when he served the Dark Lord!_

With vicious swipes and cuts of his wand, he dismantled Tonks's wards in less time than she had taken to cast them and waited. Within a couple of minutes, he heard the whining to howling to screaming to keening. It was done.

Snape swiftly let himself through the door through the door to find Tonks's arms around Lupin and her face nuzzled his neck, even though Lupin was barely conscious! He felt his blood boil as her face whipped up towards him in shock.

"Snape!" she cried and pulled herself away from Lupin in shock, _caught red-handed_. "How did you ...?"

"Pull yourself together, Miss Tonks," hissed Snape, "and be on your way."

Tonks gasped loudly as her face flushed violently. "How dare you!"

Snape pulled himself ramrod straight, and his eyes glittered with anger.

"We had this discussion last month, Miss Tonks. I do not intend to go over this every month. Go now, and let me get on with my work," Snape said, as he held the door open for her.

Tonks rushed to gather all of her belongings, and this time Snape made sure she had everything with her. She said kindly good-byes to Lupin and then stormed from the room and Snape slashed at the door so it clipped her heels.

"That was unkind ... Severus," whispered Lupin, huddled in the blanket.

"She warded me out," Snape snapped, as he dropped to knees and checked Lupin for injuries.

"Perhaps she just ..."

"No, Remus, you know there is no 'just'. This house is unplottable. No-one will disturb you here," Snape said shortly, then his features softened as he finished casting. "She demanded I come later. I refused. I should have told you earlier but," Snape smiled sheepishly, "we didn't have – ah – time."

"I know. She told me when I was transformed. You were right," Lupin said gently and reached out his hands to Snape's. "Take me home, Severus."

* * *


	82. Equal Passions

Lupin placed Snape's wand in his hand and nodded encouragingly.

"We are going to do this, Severus, every month if we have to. Every time I talk to her, if it helps. I know this is hard for you."

Snape didn't raise his wand, but refused to look up from it. He loved to share Lupin's mind like a welcome guest, not pick through it like a jealous sneak-thief. Why couldn't he just trust Lupin? Why was this simple trust so beyond him?

"Severus," Lupin said gently, and raised Snape's chin with one finger. "I am happy for you to do this."

Lupin lay back in bed, still wrapped in the covers Snape had covered him with when they had returned home hours earlier. Snape sat on the edge of the bed, one arm resting on the other side of Lupin's body.

"If I do not do this thing with Dora, if I don't have her trust, as well as yours, you will die. I am not prepared to lose you. You are everything to me." Lupin pulled Snape towards him and kissed his lips lightly. "So," he said brightly. "This is the way that you can know for sure what is happening. I don't need my privacy from you, Severus. I happily give it to you." He smiled.

Even though Lupin was pale from the previous night's transformation, Snape thought he was just the most beautiful man he had ever seen. Beautiful – and his. He managed a small smile in return, and gently held Lupin's face and cast.

_Legilimens._

They joined the memory as Lupin let himself into the hall of Grimmauld Place, echoing and desolate. Lupin stood at the door, and Snape felt his loathing of the house that he felt had consumed his friend. Lupin chivvied himself along and took himself straight to his old bedroom, undressed and wrapped himself in the blanket. Then he heard Tonks clatter up the stairs and let herself in.

' _She didn't even knock!'_ Snape thought angrily. _'You could have been naked.'_

' _I was naked!'_ Lupin laughed, a reverberation Snape felt in his body.

' _You know what I mean,'_ Snape huffed.

"Wotcher, Remus," said Tonks, with a smile. "It's good to see you safe and sound."

"Thank you, Dora," said Lupin and Tonks threw off her Auror's cloak and unbuckled and toed off her boots.

"Did you make much progress?" she asked lightly, sitting herself before him.

Snape thought he could detect more colour in her cheeks than before and a tinge of strawberry blonde to her hair as she spoke to Lupin.

"I'm hopeful for a couple of converts, possibly," Lupin replied lightly.

"That's good then," she said, a little awkwardly, Snape thought. "Remus?" she said haltingly. "I think you should know that I had a bit of a row with Snivellus."

"Please don't call Severus that, Dora," Lupin interjected and Snape felt the affront that Lupin felt and warmed himself with it.

"Why? When he's..."

"Dora. Please," Lupin said pacifically. "Severus has taken good care of me for some years now ..."

"He lost you your job, and made sure your secret was known to the world!" spat Tonks.

"Please don't judge Severus on that," Lupin said sadly. "There were many other circumstances to that ..."

"Well, tell me then. I'd like to know."

"I don't think this is really appropriate, Dora," Lupin said evasively, and Snape felt the heat of anger he so very rarely felt from Lupin. Then he felt Lupin squash it completely.

"No, I'm sorry. I just ..." Tonks sighed. "I asked him to come later because I wanted to talk to you in the morning. He refused, like he has some kind of ... claim to you." Snape felt a flicker of fear in Lupin's mind at those words.

"I think his tests are predicated on seeing me immediately on moonset, Dora. Remember he has brewed Wolfsbane for me for all these years – the best Wolfsbane I have had, and he makes adjustments and improvements to it based on those tests."

' _Quite an impressive lie, Remus',_ Snape thought.

' _You do make the best Wolfsbane and you do make adjustments and improvements. It's not really a complete lie.'_

"Huh! Probably all so he can flog it at great expense," sneered Tonks.

' _I'd make a fortune, if werewolves could work!'_ Snape commented snidely.

"Please, Dora," Lupin said, wearily.

"All right then, Remus. But you're too kind to him, y'know," she said unhappily.

They looked away from each other for a short while then Tonks said, "Perhaps I could see you earlier than moonrise." She blushed.

' _She knows, Remus. She knows how you become. Probably David was the same!'_

' _You don't know that, Severus. You are the only one I have ever taken before moonrise. I don't know that David and Dora would have done that.'_

"I'm more comfortable to meet like this, please Dora," said Lupin, colouring himself.

' _You wondered yourself if she knew,'_ accused Snape.

"I'm sorry, Remus. That was insensitive of me. I should have realised you have your own memories too," she gabbled.

"We should ..." said Lupin, still smiling, but gesturing to her neck.

Tonks pulled her jumper off and pulled her hair away, and Lupin re-made the mark and Snape saw her reaction, more intense than before, her expression more needy as she wrapped her arms around him.

At that moment, the flare of pain began and Snape withdrew quickly so Lupin would not be distressed, as Lupin grabbed his wand wrist. He blinked his thanks.

"Go on," Lupin said when he had composed himself, and Snape re-cast.

The transformation was over and gradually the wolf settled down. Tonks withdrew her arms and then pulled out a beaker and a bowl from her rucksack and filled both with water and placed the bowl before Lupin.

"David always got very thirsty after the transformation. I don't know if you do but, well," she shrugged and drank from her own beaker as she watched Lupin, a soft smile on her face.

"At least this way, I get to talk to you without Snivellus interrupting!"

Lupin emitted a small bark of dissatisfaction. It was clear Tonks understood the tone.

"All right! All right! I won't call him names. You're too nice, Remus. He's a Death Eater. You know that. Sirius knew it. He had no truck with him."

Lupin barked again. Tonks raised her hands in the age-old signal of defeat and a small smile.

"Have it your own way, Remus. But I'm an auror. I trained under Moody, and you should hear what he had to say about what Sni ... Snape did during the last war. I'm just saying that a Hippogriff doesn't just discover a fondness for salad."

Lupin gave a small growl and padded a few steps away and curled up.

"I don't see why you should care so much. Honestly, Remus. You are a saint."

She moved over to Lupin and sat cross legged in front of him once more as she pulled on her jumper, and talked instead of her work as an auror and how she and Kingsley were finding more and more of their colleagues seemed to be either under the Imperius Curse or seeming to speak in sympathy with the Dark Lord's objectives. Moody, too, was complaining of a sea-change in a number of wizards' and witches' opinions. It was becoming disturbing and, as she talked, Lupin became more tired and drifted off.

Lupin came awake an hour before moonset, finding Tonks cuddled up against him, her fingers spread in his fur. Snape bridled in Lupin's mind, feeling her fingers as if they touched him, but he didn't interrupt this time. He watched instead.

"Hi there," she smiled. "I haven't slept. I miss this so," said Tonks softly, as she massaged Lupin's fur.

Snape felt his skin crawl with the heat of anger as he listened as Tonks told Lupin how she missed David and how these full moon meetings meant so much to her as a remembrance of her time with him.

' _Didn't I tell you?'_ Snape seethed.

' _It wasn't that I minded, Severus. If that was all, why would that bother me? Listen.'_

"I've warded the door, Remus," Tonks said, and Lupin raised his head to look at her quizzically. "I don't really want to speak to you about this until you've reverted, so I'm hoping I can keep Sni ... sorry ... Snape out at least for a while. I think we have so much in common, it would really help me to talk and maybe," she inhaled deeply to steel herself, "maybe we could see each other? So ... anyway ... we'll speak in a few minutes."

Snape felt the irritation in the wolf as Tonks sat up and put her arms around Lupin once more just before moonrise.

Snape withdrew, his jaw working, but knowing how offended Lupin had been helped him with his anger that Tonks had asked Lupin for a date.

Lupin held Snape's wrist gently, as Snape held himself up on one elbow.

"Severus. You have no idea how I miss you at the full moon. Even if we stay in the flat, and just rest together, I smell your scent intensified: potions scents and your own musk. My husband's scent. It is so comforting. I miss it so. You treat me as if this is what I want. You know it's not. I claimed you so we would always be together ... only you," Lupin said sadly.

"Why do you take her side?" Snape said, hating the plaintive note he heard in his own voice.

"I do feel so sorry for her, Severus. We are asking so much of her. But I don't know how to put her off. If our relationship was not secret, and she knew about you, I'm sure she wouldn't be so forward with me. But it's based on a lie, and I don't know what to do."

"Can't you tell her you're taken?" asked Snape, stroking Lupin's hair.

"And when she asks who the mystery man is? Why you can't be with me at the full moon? What will I say? What if she looks – I mean, truly watches how you are when you come to me at moonset. I see it in your eyes. Perhaps she will if she looks. We can't risk it, Severus. We just can't. We can do this. I may not like what I hear, but I can live with a few insults or propositions if it keeps you safe."

"How much would you do exactly?" asked Snape, his mind whirling. "Would you sleep with her if she demanded it?"

"No! Severus, please don't do this again," Lupin pleaded.

"If the situations were reversed, Remus?" hissed Snape, knowing how to provoke the wolf – wanting to provoke the wolf to make Lupin understand Snape's own savage jealousy. "If I had to spend the night with Malfoy to keep you safe? How far would you let me go to keep you safe?

"Don't!" Lupin growled. "That's different ..."

"Not to me ..." Snape retorted darkly.

"If Malfoy even kissed you," Lupin said through clenched teeth, his eyes suddenly hard and his voice low, "I would not kill him with magic. That's not what a creature like me does. I would rip out his throat with my bare hands and teeth. Do you understand?" Lupin's hold on Snape's wrist tightened painfully. "And then yours."

It shouldn't have inflamed him the way it did, but Snape's desire roared to life to see his jealousy and possessiveness reflected in his husband's eyes and hear it in his husband's voice. It was the antidote to his desperate inadequacy.

Snape grabbed Lupin's shoulders and kissed him fiercely, and Lupin kissed hard back, their possessive passions equal.

Snape pulled Lupin's body to himself, biting his shoulder joint and up his neck, knowing the sounds Lupin made verged on pain, but Lupin did not stop him as he threw the covers from Lupin's body as his mouth bit possessively along it, right down to his pelvic bone, as his hands clutched Lupin's flesh. He bit too hard, and heard Lupin's hiss of pain.

Snape quickly pulled himself up and kissed Lupin's face, whispering his apology, although his body still yearned to possess Lupin fully.

"Would you like to carve your name over my heart?" whispered Lupin hoarsely. "Just your name. Why not? I _am_ yours." Lupin's whisper made Snape's heart pound harder.

Snape held himself over Lupin's body as he stared into the blue eyes that met his. He couldn't deny how it appealed to him to have Lupin marked as Snape was marked; claimed as Snape was Claimed. He even knew the Dark spell that could mark Lupin as his blood bondsman until death, if Snape wanted. A small amount of reason stopped the incantation forming on his lips. _It must not be known. Not yet. Not until it is safe._

His body throbbed with hot, hard want but when he leant in next, he kissed Lupin's chest gently, flicking his tongue over his nipple and hearing the gasps of pleasure that greeted each pass of his tongue and teeth. Snape moaned as he kissed over Lupin's chest hungrily until he came to the circlet on Lupin's arm. He kissed it reverentially and moved back to look at Lupin once more, his own eyes searching Lupin's, Lupin's hands stroking over Snape's back. His desire was so strong, but he couldn't take Lupin hard, not this day after the full moon. He had to hold himself back. But it was so hard, as he felt Lupin's hands clutch at his skin and hair in equal desire.

Snape took Lupin's erection in his mouth fully, sucking on him hard, each cry and thrust of Lupin's hips driving him on as his fingers quested underneath and then pushed in. Lupin bucked his hips with cry as Snape worked in fingers in time with his mouth, groaning and humming his own delight onto Lupin's cock, hearing and feeling Lupin's own in his ever-increasing cries of pleasure.

Snape pulled his mouth away when he was sure Lupin was near the brink, so Lupin whimpered, and Snape knelt, his fingers still working, and he gazed with heated desire on the man spread in front of him, sweating, flushed with desire, eyes dark with want, proud cock almost bursting. Snape inhaled the hot smell of their combined lust as he pushed Lupin's legs further apart and settled himself onto Lupin's body, his dark eyes smouldering.

"Severus, please," Lupin gasped, as he pulled Snape's lips with a strong kiss.

Snape moved his hips to Lupin's murmured encouragements, finally replacing his fingers with the tip of his too-hard cock. He stopped Lupin's mouth with his own as he kissed him hard, running his hands under Lupin's back to grip his shoulders.

Snape thrust in fully, crying out hoarsely in delight and deep, deep relief to feel the hot, tight muscle clench on him. Lupin moaned deeply and held Snape tightly as each man dropped his face into the other man's neck as they both struggled not to come too soon. Only when Snape was sure he could move once more did he begin to thrust slowly, but deeply, lifting himself so he was barely inches from Lupin's face to watch Lupin's eyes and mouth hunger for him, beg him, with each searching thrust, drinking in each cry as he hit Lupin's sweet spot, clenching around his cock, searing him with more hot pleasure than his body could take. His heart pounded and his blood rushed in his ears as his thrusts became harder and faster, to Lupin's cries for more until Snape felt the hot burst of Lupin's semen against his own stomach as he heard Lupin's shout, and released the powerful, unstoppable burst of his orgasm and he bent and pushed into Lupin hard as he shuddered and cried out.

Breathless and soaked, he gasped against Lupin's face, listening to the murmurs of love in his ears, his whole body weakening and his mind now pacifically calm as Lupin folded his arms around him and deep, sated sleep took them both away.

oooOOOooo

Lupin was back with the urban werewolves. He would do his best to speak to Snape by mirror as often as he could but expected to be gone for the month.

Snape was back at Hogwarts. His life seemed like a never-ending grind of trying to achieve results that eluded him.

Meetings with Dumbledore were infrequent, and there never seemed to be time for Snape to discuss his Vow. Whatever was currently taking Dumbledore away from the castle seemed to absorb him completely. Snape often saw books and instruments strewn across the large table in the ante-room, but Dumbledore never offered any information to him and no opportunity presented itself to Snape to extend the short audiences he had with him. His sleep when Lupin was not with him was as disturbed as ever but he would not resort to Dreamless Sleep. He could not afford to be become dependent.

Order meetings seem to encompass more and more disappearances and deaths. In addition, Tonks sent him baleful glares at most meetings. Snape ignored her. Lupin had sworn to him that if Lupin had any meeting with Tonks, he would show Snape in his mind. Snape dismissed his own scruples about that now. It was the only way he could know for sure and not torture himself. He would take it, and be grateful.

His researches for Lycanthropy were still ongoing, and any spare time he had he spent in his experiments for his ultimate goal of a cure for Lupin, even though Minerva, Filius, Charity and Septima often asked him to join their card schools or Minerva invited him to play chess. He should socialise with his colleagues, but researching for Lupin helped him feel close to him, working for their future.

He resented any time he spent making notes of his spurious experiments for the Dark Lord, but he had to be careful. His bogus researches had to look right, just in case the Dark Lord managed to recruit a potioneer of equal ability. The Death Eaters had failed with Slughorn, but there were others abroad that the Dark Lord was trying to recruit.

The Dark Lord did not push at Snape too hard. Now that Snape sliced open his own veins for the Dark Lord's mind, he was treated better than ever. The other Death Eaters deferred to him, if for no other reason than it was not their blood that was let once a month. It wasn't much of a consolation for being parted from Lupin, but at least it helped to keep him where Dumbledore needed him to be.

His teaching duties provided little relief. Most of his NEWT students struggled with non-verbal spells; Potter, most of all. Snape really couldn't fathom what lay at the root of Potter's difficulty. Snape thought if he goaded Potter, as he had in his Occlumency lessons, it might provoke him to success, but no matter how much he goaded him, Potter simply could not cast silently. Needless to say, the know-it-all at mastered it quickest of all, even more quickly than Malfoy.

And Malfoy ... the idiot child was still avoiding him. Snape had sent for him a couple of times, and the boy had simply not turned up! He had even asked Malfoy to remain behind after a lesson in front of the class, and yet the boy had slipped away. It was unheard of in Slytherin. Not even Potter was that disrespectful to him. Would Snape have to manhandle the heir of Malfoy Manor into his office to speak to him? He hoped it would not come to that, but he could not leave the boy to his own devices. He knew the boy was desperate, that the boy knew his family's survival rested heavily on his slight shoulders.

Snape drew his hands over his face as he sat back in his chair, wondering how to get through to the boy. Suddenly, there was a frantic knocking at his door. He rushed to open it, knowing no student would rap on the door of his quarters so stridently.

Filch stood on the threshold with something wrapped in a scarf.

"Professor Snape, sir," Filch wheezed. "Professor McGonagall sent me to bring this to yer. It cursed a student."

"Come with me," ordered Snape, as he closed the door to his quarters and led Filch to his office. Snape pointed to the desk, and Filch laid the scarf on it carefully as Snape Summoned his dragonhide gloves and illuminated the table with a powerful spell.

"Tell me as much as you know," said Snape softly, as he rotated with a charm the silver and opal necklace he had seen so often in Borgin & Burkes over the years. Filch didn't know much other than the student's name. Snape wrapped the necklace in wrappers and placed protective enchantments over it then both he and Filch took the Floo to the hospital wing.

"Oh Severus!" Poppy called. "Thank goodness you're here." She scurried towards him and told him everything Miss Bell's companion had told her.

Snape swept to the bedside of Miss Bell and began to cast to see how far the curse had travelled. Only the smallest portion of her skin had been cursed through a hole in her gloves, but it was a curse of great age and power and Snape began the incantation to inhibit its spread. The incantation and intricate wand-work took over an hour, until finally Snape felt through the resonances in his wand that the curse had been halted. It would spread no further. It would be up to the Healers at St. Mungo's now.

To Poppy's profuse thanks, which Snape acknowledged with a nod, Snape departed, rushing straight to Minerva's office to discuss the fate of her student.

"Severus!" Minerva greeted him, standing behind her desk. "Whatever happened?"

"It was an old Dark curse," Snape said, slumping into the chair opposite her, now exhausted. Minerva called for refreshments from the house-elf. "Minerva, if that child had not been wearing gloves, she probably would have died instantly." He covered his eyes with one hand. "However did she come by it?"

"Leanne and Katie went Hogsmeade today with the rest of their classmates. Apparently, Katie went to the ladies' room in The Three Broomstricks and when she returned, she had a brown paper package." Minerva fiddled with her hair at the sides, a nervous tic Snape had come to recognise. "They argued about where she had got it, and Katie refused to tell Leanne, just saying it was a present for someone at Hogwarts. I think she was Imperiused, Severus."

Snape stared at Minerva as she filled in the rest of the details, but he wasn't really listening as he tried to understand what had happened, with a deep nausea beginning to take hold of him as he began to wonder if Malfoy was behind it. If he was, it had been spectacular poor planning to leave such a dangerous object in the hands of an Imperiused child. What on earth would Malfoy in his desperation try next?

"I'd best be going, Minerva," Snape said shortly, as he stood. "I really am quite tired."

"Of course, Severus," Minerva said, touching his hand in acknowledgement. "Thank you for what you've done today for Katie."

Snape nodded. A few of the staff had come to know that counter-casting against Dark magic took its toll on him, physically and magically. It certainly was the truth that he was tired. He was shattered, in fact. All he wanted to do was speak to Lupin and then take to his bed. Surely, it wasn't so much to ask? But there would be no rest for him until he had found and spoken to Malfoy before he set himself upon another indiscriminately homicidal plan.

* * *


	83. The Unforgiving Pledge

The Death Eater meeting had yielded a great deal of information either directly or by subterfuge. Snape had the names of several Ministry officials who were to being targeted for the Imperius curse and he had the names of three prominent Wizarding families the Dark Lord had chosen for the special attentions of Greyback and his cronies for their lack of co-operation. Snape would report it all, but it would be Dumbledore who would choose who would be saved.

As Snape swept though the dirty halls of the derelict manor to leave, a soft voice called to him.

"Severus, please!"

He stopped to take in the sight of Narcissa, beckoning to him from a half-open door. Still elegant in bearing and couture, but her expression was now haunted, the shadow and lines of worry around her eyes and mouth. Snape followed her into the room, a dilapidated reception room.

Her well-manicured hand grasped his and she led him to the dust sheet-covered chaise-longue and cleaned it with a quick spell.

"Please, Severus. Tell me how things are going with my son?" she pleaded breathlessly. Her blue eyes searched his desperately.

"Draco avoids me, Narcissa." He felt her hand tighten on his and saw a flicker of fear in her eyes. "I ask him to come to see me so I can help him, but he ignores me. I think he blames me in some way for Lucius's continued incarceration."

"It's Bella," said Narcissa, her eyes flicking nervously to the door. "She resents your place in the confidence of the Dark Lord. She hates that you have the place at his right hand side, that you escape punishment so often. She wants to give her blood to him at the full moon ..."

How Snape wanted to interrupt her and say that Bellatrix would be more than welcome! But he held his tongue, as he always held his tongue.

"She fills Draco's head with such horrors! How the Dark Lord will find him and torture him if it is not done quickly; how I will be made to pay for his failure; how he is a disgrace to his Black blood and how he is failing the name of Malfoy, as his father has failed the name already!" She sobbed as she spoke this last, and then coloured to have lost her composure and Conjured a handkerchief and screwed it up in her hand.

"You must write to him, Narcissa. Persuade him I can help. The old Rosier necklace was passed to an Imperiused student ..." Narcissa gasped, her petite hand flying to her mouth. The necklace was well-known in pure-blood circles and no-one would buy such a Dark artefact from Borgin & Burke since the shop had purchased it from the estate of Evan Rosier all those years ago.

"Draco is already suspected and I'm sure it was him too," Snape pressed on urgently. "Such far-fetched schemes are too dangerous! It mustn't be repeated. He could end up expelled at a minimum and the use of an Unforgiveable will see him in Azkaban." Narcissa's eyes were wide with fear and Snape saw them fill with tears. He softened his tone. "Write to him, Narcissa. Control your sister. She is only addling the boy – making him careless."

"You are right, Severus," Narcissa said. "But he is so desperate to prove himself to the Dark Lord; to be the man of the family whist Lucius isn't here! He's just a boy. He's frightened."

Snape squeezed her hand, sorry to see this once-poised woman seeming so frayed. "I know. I can help him to succeed. But he must trust me!" he said earnestly.

Narcissa nodded, and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.

"Yes. Yes. At least," Narcissa said, coughing a little as her voice choked, "at least he is safe at Hogwarts."

oooOOOooo

Snape had told Dumbledore all he knew of the Rosier necklace and Malfoy's refusal to meet with him, but Dumbledore was still displeased that Snape had been unable to prevent it.

Snape blinked. Was he being serious?

"I have spoken with Narcissa to persuade Draco to speak to me. He has shut me out completely. It is Bellatrix's doing, we believe."

"You must try harder, Severus. As you've said, Katie Bell could have died. It was lucky you were here to minister to her, but it could have been so much worse. You _must_ try harder." Dumbledore clenched his fist in emphasis.

Snape stiffened with offence.

"I can, of course, manhandle him into my office, if you would prefer, Albus, in front of all the other students," he snapped. "Is that what you would like? It's hardly covert, but if you need me to try harder. Perhaps ... perhaps I should Legilimise him by force, in the manner of the Dark Lord!" Snape was shouting now. "Would that be hard enough for you?"

"Don't take on so, Severus," said Dumbledore, in that maddeningly amiable manner of his. "I did not mean to imply that you were not trying. Please. Sit down." Dumbledore spread his hands, and Snape breathed more deeply to calm himself. He had an opportunity now. He should use it. He sat.

"Albus," Snape said tentatively. "I wanted to discuss my promise to you about Draco ..."

"Oh yes?" said Dumbledore, steepling his fingers before him. "I hope ... you are not thinking of letting me down ..."

_Letting him down? How could Dumbledore talk of his own killing so lightly?_

"Of course not." Snape suddenly found his palms clammy, as if caught in a lie. "I want to tell Remus what you've asked of me ..."

"You promised me anything, Severus. You understand the nature of the geas you are under ..." said Dumbledore quickly.

"Yes, I understand, but even so ..."

"...even so, Severus. I do not want you to tell Remus about this. It is too important." Dumbledore stood and went to stand over Snape. Snape felt sick at the refusal. He had so hoped that Lupin could be in this confidence, that he could steady Snape for what he had to do, could calm him in the days to come.

"You can't expect me to let Remus think I am a murderer, Albus! His own husband in whom he places so much trust, murdering the man he thinks of as a second father!" Snape tried to reason, hoping Dumbledore would understand.

"There are many people Remus comes into contact with, even within the Order, where slips could be made, and then everything we have strived for would unravel. Appearances must be kept. He cannot be seen to ..." Dumbledore stopped short, clearly resolving upon something.

After so many years trying to discern and cope with the Dark Lord, Snape had become attuned to charges in magic. He felt it now and his throat constricted with conditioned fear. Dumbledore squeezed Snape's shoulder.

"No, it cannot be. I am sorry, Severus. I must bind you to silence on it." With that, Dumbledore flicked his wand and Snape felt a tightening of his throat. His hand clasped at it and he stared at Dumbledore in horror.

"You have performed a Fidelius on me! How could you do that without my consent?" he gasped, as Dumbledore returned to his own chair.

"I cannot allow you to tell Remus without my permission." Dumbledore regarded Snape mildly over his glasses as if he had done no more the squeeze Snape's shoulder.

"Remus has become your weakness, Severus. I wonder if you understand how your devotion to him could threaten everything we have worked for."

"Why, Albus?" cried Snape. "Remus is trustworthy. He should know this or it will drive a wedge between us. We have too much ... enough to contend with as it is. But this ..." Snape inhaled rapidly as he leant towards Dumbledore from his chair.

"Since you've been with Remus, Severus, I wonder sometimes if you remember who you made this vow for," said Dumbledore mildly. Devastatingly.

"That is unfair!" Snape rasped, the shock of the accusation that seemingly came from nowhere jolting through him as he fell back in his chair, all his righteous anger washed away with crawling shame. Was it true? Had he forgotten Lily? But he would never ...

"You must trust me on this, Severus. You must not be impatient. It will work out for the best."

oooOOOooo

How could he trust him? Snape paced his quarters. It was now five in the morning, and he had not slept at all. It was pointless pretending he had any hope of sleep now. He went to his table and Tippy brought him a cup of tea. He started going through his paperwork for the day. His eyes roved over his inventory for the potions stores once and then twice, before he rolled his eyes with weariness.

All of his store of boomslang skin? Again? He would have to be vigilant. The question this time was: was it Potter or was it Malfoy?

oooOOOooo

As soon as Lupin arrived at the flat, he took Snape by the hand to the settee.

"We do this now," he said gently.

Snape swallowed. This is what they had agreed when they had last been together. Snape was to look, unhindered, at Lupin's memories of any meetings with Tonks so he would not torture himself, but he had not thought it would be the _first_ thing they would do. He had thought they would talk, eat, bathe, make love. He had not expected this.

He opened his mouth to speak.

"No arguments, Severus. We agreed. I'll have nothing secret from you."

Snape tasted bile in his mouth at the irony. He swallowed it down. He and Lupin would make this work. When Dumbledore died, Snape would become the Secret Keeper. He would tell Lupin then. Of course, he did not expect Lupin to believe him, but he could show him the memory ... His mind flooded with worry that Lupin would refuse to view the memory – would refuse to believe him. He felt his heart beat harder at the thought, but Lupin snapped him out of his frantic worry by Lupin's two words that Snape always responded to, no matter what the context.

"Please, Severus."

_Legilimens._

The memory started just towards the end of the Order meeting they had just had. Tonks was sitting next to Lupin. Snape knew she had spent most of the evening mooning over him, looking at him whenever she thought she was unobserved, small touches to his hand when she talked to him, a special smile: candid, inviting, a brush of her thigh against his. Snape saw and felt them all, but now he knew that Lupin did too. He moved his hand or leg away; not hastily or nastily, but quietly and slowly so as not to embarrass her. He joined others into the conversations she started with him alone. Snape felt the conflict in Lupin's mind: his embarrassment and discomfort for her unreturned affections, but his gratitude for what she did for them every full moon.

Then, Lupin snatched glances at Snape leaving, knowing he was going to their flat, and Snape felt the flutter of excitement and Lupin's desire to follow him, saw how Lupin took in every movement of Snape's, watching his shoulders, his hands, the set of his face, his hair, as he said he farewell to Dumbledore alone. Saw how handsome Lupin saw him to be. It melted Snape inside that Lupin saw him that way. How easily Snape forgot.

"Remus," Kingsley said. "Care for one?" He brandished an open bottle of Firewhiskey.

"I'd prefer a tea, please," Lupin replied amiably, smiling at Molly who had just brewed a pot.

"Oh, go on, Remus. Don't be a spoilsport," said Tonks, her eyes merry as she gave him a little nudge that Snape took to be meaningful.

"Really, tea is absolutely what I would like!" smiled Lupin as Molly handed him a mug with a look that Snape felt Lupin could not interpret. Snape could though. Molly saw what Snape saw. The difference was, Molly was clearly pleased. Well, why shouldn't she be? The woman was an inveterate match-maker; she couldn't help herself.

"I haven't had a decent cup of tea for two weeks, Molly! I just want to sit down and savour it." Remus smiled his most dazzling smile at Molly who immediately responded, as women of her age seemed unable to resist doing.

"Of course, dear," she said as she enveloped him in a maternal hug that separated him from Tonks and the bottle of Firewhiskey, and guided him to the brewing tea and Molly and Arthur's parental attentions.

Lupin chatted happily to Arthur, filling in odd pieces of information about Muggle culture with Molly listening and laughing occasionally and from the corner of his eye, he could see the heart-shaped face turning away from Kingsley, Moody, Diggle and Hestia to look at him. Of course, his luck couldn't last. Once the other group had imbibed enough, Tonks made her way over to Lupin and Molly prodded Arthur to come away. Lupin inwardly sighed at the ill-concealed ploy.

Sitting together, Tonks asked about his time with the urban werewolves and Lupin told her about their lives as an underclass of the city, indulging in petty crime and prostitution to eke out miserable existences and transforming in secure industrial premises at the full moon. These weren't packs so much as ragged groups of individuals, banded together for mutual protection. He was unsure that he could ever be successful in gaining their trust when he was clearly not as destitute as they.

He told Tonks some of their stories: how they were Turned and, without exception, rejected by their respective families and by the Wizarding world and how very lucky he had been that his parents had never put him out and had helped him through until their untimely deaths. Then Tonks told Lupin about David's parents who she had met in France who, like Lupin's parents, had been supportive and kind when David had been Turned as a teenager, and how she missed them too now that David was gone.

"If I may ask: why did you never tell your parents? I mean, to let David Claim you and not tell your parents. They would have to have known eventually. He would never have given you up," Lupin ventured.

"You don't know my mother, Remus. What she can be like. She would never have accepted him, never!"

"I don't understand. Sirius always talked of your mother as very understanding of differences. I mean – I assumed that was why you felt ... able..." Snape felt Lupin's discomfiture at making so many assumptions about Tonks's family based on a few things his friend had told him, seeing tears fill Tonks's eyes.

"I'm sorry," Lupin said softly. Tonks took his hand. Lupin gave it a friendly squeeze but Tonks did not disengage when Lupin began to move his hand away for a few more seconds than was entirely comfortable.

An embarrassing silence descended between them.

"Tonks. Dora," Lupin started. "It's very kind of you to help me through the full moon the way you do ..."

"Oh, but I like to ..."

"Hear me out please!" Lupin said gently, but firmly. "I do realise what a huge favour it is, but I don't want you to be hurt, Dora. I'm worried we ... I asked this of you too soon after David ..."

"No, I ..."

"Please, Dora. Please listen to me. It's a physical thing, I know that, and it has perhaps too much meaning ..."

"But I like you Remus." Her expression was earnest ... hopeful. "I really like you."

"I like you too, Dora, but ... not that way." Snape felt the heat of embarrassment in Lupin to have to say this to this young woman, and to see the hurt in her eyes. "Please, I don't want to hurt you ..."

"I understand that you need time, Remus," Tonks interjected quickly. "It hasn't been long since Sirius. I, of all people, understand that ... I won't push you too hard, I promise. But I think we could be good together, Remus. I understand who and what you are in a way other people never will. I know what you need ..." She blushed suddenly and all three understood what she meant at that point.

"Dora, please listen ..."

Snape was taken aback by the audacity of it, but Lupin calmed him again, entreating him to listen.

"No Remus. I'd be good for you. I was good for David. After all, I'm a shape-shifter too."

"What do you mean?" Lupin said, startled by the comparison. "It's hardly the same. I'm cursed. You're ..."

"Cursed too!" she interjected, her eyes sad. "All the Blacks are."

"What are you talking about?" Lupin almost laughed. "I've never heard of any Black family curse, and I'm sure Sirius would have told me."

"He got off lightly," said Tonks dismissively. "All of the Black offspring were cursed by a man called Lydiard whose son became a werewolf. He cursed us to be shape-shifters," she indicated herself, "and blood traitors."

 _Lydiard?_ Snape thought furiously. _The father of Idris! Of course._

"But Dora," Lupin reasoned, "neither of those things is a curse! Sirius and your mother just didn't want to be dictated to on blood purity, and your gift is ... well, exactly that: a gift. You said yourself: it's priceless to your work as an Auror and the children adore your gift ..."

"That's really sweet of you, Remus, but you're wrong," Tonks said emphatically. "All my life I've had to listen to my family telling me how ashamed they are of my freakishness ..."

"What do you care about those dinosaurs of Grimmauld Place or those murdering aunts and uncles of yours?"

"If only!" For the first time, Snape saw her tear her eyes away from Lupin as they filled. She wiped her nose clumsily on a handkerchief screwed up in her fist and he thought how incredibly different she was from Narcissa, even down to the way they held their handkerchiefs in their anguish.

"Even my own mother thinks I'm a freak. Oh, she's very kind to me, and she's never called me it to my face. But her disappointment is so obvious, Remus. I can't seem to deport myself with any kind of grace, and I forget sometimes that I change subconsciously when I'm at home. I see her flinch when I do it." She sniffled again.

"And at school, I was always bullied, even in my own House, for being a shape-shifter. So I learnt to become a joker with it, misbehaving so people would laugh with me and not at me. But it was always there – I knew they thought I wasn't right. I could never be myself and just let my emotions express themselves as my nature intended. David understood, and I understood David. We were shape-shifters together."

Her shoulders slumped and she looked away again sorrowfully. Lupin hoped she could see that they only thing he and David had in common was Lycanthropy; that did not make Lupin a match for her. She and David had far more in common than that, and David had been young with a good profession. But it would be cruel to tell her that now that he was gone.

Lupin gave her shoulder a small squeeze of solace, and she patted his hand, and then turned to look at him, her eyes bloodshot and glassy.

"Thanks for listening, Remus. It means a lot to me to be able to talk about David. Hardly anyone knew, you see. Mad-Eye and Bill, but," she shrugged hopelessly, "I can hardly talk to them, can I? And I could never tell Mum – not with her Black mentality about ... you know ... half breeds."

She tucked her dull hair behind her ears and stood, giving Lupin a quick peck on the cheek that even Snape could not misinterpret.

"See you next full moon, Remus. Thanks again."

Snape withdrew from Lupin's mind softly and they both sat in silence.

For the first time, Snape felt some pity for Tonks. Not enough pity to forgive her trespasses on his husband but he began to understand the reason for her desperation. He, of all people, knew how hard it was to be the object of a parent's scorn or to make one's way, even in school, when differences one could not help but set one apart. Of course, she didn't have the terrible time that he had had, but he still recognised the unhappiness and _otherness_ he had seen in her eyes when she looked at Lupin.

He remembered her as his student: raucous, joking, morphing all the time – she drove Pomona mad! But she had applied herself in his lessons diligently, working her way towards her ambition of being an Auror. Then he recalled how they had talked together at the full moon in the forest in Romania: quiet, gentle conversations of disparate people sharing a convention-breaking passion. He remembered how angry he had been when Dumbledore had Obliviated all of the other couples who ran at the full moon with them because he had lost that camaraderie.

He sighed heavily. Lupin was right: it had been a terrible thing to ask of her.

"What do we do?" Snape asked at last.

"I don't know, Severus, truly I don't."

"We can't not do it," Snape said heavily. "Well, we could. I could run away and not perform the ritual, but I doubt I could hide for long."

Lupin moved so he sat just behind Snape and his hands rested on Snape's tense shoulders and Snape rubbed his cheek against one. Lupin began to work gently at the knotted muscles there.

"I can't think of an alternative that keeps you safe. I'll just have to keep telling her and hope she sees that I'm not the one for her. I worry though, Severus. She sets far too much store by her differences, and not how much she is genuinely liked by those around her. I think she believes only what she known from a young age."

"We've all been conditioned by our families and Houses, it seems," said Snape sadly but savouring Lupin's long fingers and the balls of his hands pressing into his tense shoulders.

"Let's take this off," said Lupin softly as he unwound Snape's cravat and pushed aside the shirt collar, and kissed Snape's neck as his fingers worked the shirt from his trousers and pulled it over Snape's head, and his hands continued their slow, deft massage of Snape's back, easing away the tension of Snape's body, building desire as the massage became caresses, chasing away the men's worries. For now.

oooOOOooo

It wasn't enough.

Snape had drifted off to sleep after they had made love, but not for long. It seemed no time at all before his nightmares began – those nightmares that began with a jet of green light and Dumbledore lifeless at his feet, the bright blue eyes accusing then clouding over. Then Snape was running – running through the corridors of Hogwarts – his heart pounding so hard against his ribs he thought it would burst – but on he ran, Aurors, hell-hounds and wolves at his heels and bringing him down, now falling, falling, Dementors surrounding him to suck away his good memories and then his soul, falling, falling, as the slavering maw of the wolf opened to rip out his throat as the last word he would ever hear was hissed: "Traitor!"

Snape lurched upright, gasping hugely for breath, his cheeks damp with tears, gripping the counterpane around him in fear and sickness. As he screwed his eyes shut, about to flee the bed and sleep's nightmares, Lupin's arms enfolded his waist and he felt Lupin kiss his back.

"Tell me, Severus. Please tell me what's wrong," Lupin whispered hoarsely.

"I can't," Snape said in a horrified whisper. "I want to so much, but I can't!"

Lupin sat up behind Snape and leant his chin on Snape's shoulder and Snape leant against Lupin's head, his heart still beating too fast.

"The secret you had before? Is it a Fidelius?"

Snape nodded, as he felt a twinge of constriction in his throat to stop him even hinting, for a Fidelius, like all old magic, was soul magic and recognised intention.

Lupin wrapped his arms around Snape's shoulders and chest and held him tightly.

"Is it so very terrible, my love?" he asked softly.

Snape only just managed to speak as he thought on the man he would kill and the man who held him so lovingly now as he hid his face behind his hanging hair.

"It is."

Lupin pulled Snape back to the bed, and pushed his hair away from his face and held him tightly in his arms.

"I'm here, my darling Severus. Whatever it is – I will here for you."

* * *


	84. Secrets & Lies

Lupin was only home for a couple more days, but in those days he had enveloped Snape with as much tenderness as if he were made of glass. Snape felt as fragile as glass, and let himself sink into Lupin's attentions.

Lupin held him whenever they were together, and Snape wanted to be held; he relished the comfort to his ragged soul. Lupin made love to him gently and Snape gave in to every caress and kiss. He yielded himself completely for those few days being adored and cherished with kind words, soft actions and tender love. Lupin seemed to understand how badly Snape was hurting and spent his time trying to soothe him.

He did not try to pry or guess. Lupin was enough of a wizard to know that a Fidelius Charm could not be tricked or inveigled. Any question or hint that went near the subject would result in the same incapacity in Snape to either speak or even think of the Charmed secret. Even the Dark Lord could not tear a secret from a person under the Fidelius Charm, and how that man had tried.

But it was enough for Snape to rest his head against Lupin's chest, and feel his beloved's arms wrap around him, or a finger trace a loving line across his cheek as Snape sank into those blue eyes that were his freedom, and feel soft lips kiss him. His soul would calm and be fortified. If only he could have this always, as they had wanted when they bonded.

It would be so easy for him to fall into self-pity as he had done when he was younger. But things were different now. His life was different. He had Lupin and he adored him and the only way he could have this always was to ensure the downfall of the Dark Lord. It was looking to be a long-game. He was up to it. If he had Lupin and their life together to aim for – he was up to the challenge.

oooOOOooo

The next full moon passed as the last, Snape having to let his own blood ritually for his blood master, spending the afternoon before and the morning after with Lupin, tracing his memories as soon as Lupin was strong enough to see how Tonks behaved. Their two meetings this month had been uneventful: she had been kind and understanding, but had not pushed at Lupin. Lupin had hoped he had done enough to deflect her affection that he knew was borne of grief. Snape doubted it, but he kept the gnawing doubt to himself. They seemed to have reached a plateau of understanding of what needed to be borne with as much regard for the other's feelings as possible.

So November rolled into December and Lupin moved on to his next assignment, trying to convince the werewolves who lived in scattered groups in the disused tunnels of the London Underground system. Of all the urban werewolves, these were the ones that Lupin had avoided for so long. He already knew some of them, from other packs who had gravitated to the capital city in the vain hope of better lives – better pickings. Theirs were the bitterest of stories and they were the bitterest of men and women.

Lupin managed snatched conversations with Snape late into the night through the mirror, whispered exchanges of information, brief but intense messages of longing for the holiday they planned this month when Christmas would roll into full moon and then onto their new year anniversary. They could barely wait for this time together, just to be the couple they were, _but for_ the full moon night.

Snape wondered why he had believed they would be allowed that respite they so craved. Dumbledore informed him that, with the Dark Lord out in the open, many parents had decided that Hogwarts with its ancient protective enchantments was the safest place for their children to be over Christmas, so Snape was required to stay at the school. So Snape resolved to bring Lupin to the school for Christmas. If Potter was at the Burrow, he'd be less likely to use that infernal Map of his. As far as Snape was concerned, the chances of discovery were slim.

But no. When he spoke with Lupin the next night, Dumbledore had advised Lupin to take up Molly's offer of Christmas at the Burrow because Potter would need the support. _Oh, Dumbledore knew how to press the right buttons with Lupin. Didn't he just!_ Snape thought sourly.

Lupin complained when they spoke through the mirror that night of Dumbledore's injunction for Lupin to be more judicious in his language about Snape when he was with Potter. Dumbledore had warned him before; he warned him again. He should not give anyone reason to enquire about their relationship.

"I'm sick of it all," said Lupin. "I know I should be grateful. It's right I do my best for the Order! Oh Severus, could we not even have had this time to ourselves?"

Of course, Snape felt the same: hurt and angry. Lupin trapped with werewolves and Snape trapped with murderous vows and then their time together snatched away. Snape felt their spiral of helplessness keenly. Their bitter conversation of the unfairness of their thwarted plans that they only ever voiced to each other became so intense that Lupin had little trouble persuading Snape to Apparate to the secluded alley where Lupin was. There, amongst the dustbins and rubbish, Lupin pulled Snape into a door inset of the back of a shop, and they had sex as fierce as any afternoon before the full moon, if not more fierce for this time, Snape matched Lupin's hunger, questing, rough hands and hips through robes and trousers until Lupin had taken Snape hard and desperately as he had braced himself against that door, both men noisy and demanding, until they shouted their releases when they came. It could have been the back-alley transaction of a customer and whore, or a drunken assignation, had anyone seen or heard. But at this time and place in the City of London, the streets were deserted but for people like them.

Calming, but sweating, Lupin turned Snape back to face him and adjusted their clothes and pressed him back on the door, both hands planted either side of Snape's head as he leant his face against Snape's and Snape's arms draped around Lupin's waist.

"I wish it was all over," he rasped to Snape's ear as his hands grasped Snape's face and Snape's hands held Lupin's face close to his. "I hate this. I hate it all. I want to be home with you."

They kissed, fervently and still with longing until Snape finally broke the kiss, but their eyes still drank each other in, wild eyes, bright with passion.

It didn't matter that Dumbledore had forbidden Snape from meeting Lupin on assignment, from taking "unnecessary risks". What did Dumbledore understand of them? He was celibate and had been for nearly a century. For whatever reason Dumbledore had, he had chosen to live apart from this type of love, he had let his passions become ossified. Snape had not. He wanted every drop of love Lupin wanted to give him, and he wanted to pay it back in kind. Snape was too anguished about the Fidelius, about his being trapped, to listen to Dumbledore about Lupin now. They had wanted each other and they made it happen. Sordid, tawdry – all of that. But absolutely what their bodies craved from each other.

oooOOOooo

The first thing Snape had done when he had left Slughorn's overblown party was to toe off his boots and check the mirror. Lupin had not called. He had not missed him. He placed the mirror carefully on the table, hoping Lupin would be able to call him this night and give him some peace of mind.

He sat at his table and Summoned the Firewhiskey and a glass and leant his mouth onto the fingers of his hand in thought, whilst he drummed his wand lightly on the table with the other.

His two charges: Malfoy and Potter. Both the subject of vows that directed and consumed his life. Both ungrateful, spoilt, rash brats. His dark eyes flashed with temper.

Both of them were up to no good, but surely only Malfoy was murderous? The sainted Chosen One ( _he sneered_ ) would never undertake what Malfoy had. Who knew what Potter was capable of under duress? Would he undertake to murder someone to save his own skin?

Snape stood, suddenly furious because he knew the answer.

"The stupid boy!" he spat to the empty room, and paced, as a crackle of magical energy discharged from his wand.

Malfoy could deny as much as he liked that he was responsible for the Rosier necklace. _Lie, lie and deny_ – it should be the Malfoy motto, Snape thought acidly. Hadn't Lucius done exactly the same after the first Wizarding war?

Malfoy had a plan. It was taking longer than he thought. Snape turned it over and over in his mind, but came up with nothing – just like his Legilimency had come up with nothing. Now _that_ had been a surprise. Malfoy had always been an adept pupil if he was so inclined. A perfect Occlumency barrier against him. That took some doing, and it took no little study on Malfoy's part. Under other circumstances, Snape would have respected Malfoy for it. He snorted in derision as he found himself comparing Potter with Malfoy yet again.

 _Ah! But Potter didn't want to learn, did he? The Chosen One and his oh-so-important personal connection to the Dark Lord. How very special._ It would always be what Snape thought. Even now, he saw the resentment – no, hatred – in Potter's eyes that somehow he, Snape, was responsible for Potter's appalling refusal to learn or Dumbledore's refusal to listen.

He kicked out at a side table so it toppled in impotent anger and dropped back in his chair again.

Malfoy and his cronies had given no such time or attention to their studies this year. Snape had even been putting members of his own House into detention for the lack of any effort whatsoever. The sea-change in respect for him had to be watched. Bellatrix was behind it. He had to be careful; it was a dangerous time. So much hung in the balance.

He rested his head in his hands and breathed deeply. How desperate it was to see his charges take off down paths as if they were allotted: Draco to the Dark path; Potter to be an Auror. Each following the path to continued war, and (it seemed to him, anyway) no-one was really trying to stop it. No matter how many times Snape asked, Dumbledore would not tell him why direct action could not be taken against the Dark Lord. Snape would rather murder him than Dumbledore! Merlin knew: Snape would sleep better at night if that were the plan! But still, Snape was kept in the dark.

He downed his drink in one, just as Lupin softly called his name.

He exhaled to see Lupin's face, his soft knowing smile and blue eyes, in the mirror and smiled ruefully when Lupin asked him why the large dram had been necessary.

Of course, Snape couldn't tell Lupin, but telling him it was the night of Slughorn's Christmas party provoked appropriate noises of sympathy.

Snape easily deflected any deeper questions by telling Lupin how Slughorn had managed to acquire Professor Merrythought's old office which hadn't been used since his retirement. Having taught at Hogwarts, Lupin knew that Dumbledore had always refused to allocate it because it was so very large in case it caused dissension amongst the ranks. They joked about what favours Slughorn must have done to make Dumbledore overturn his decades-held ruling.

Snape told Lupin that Sanguini had been at the party with his biographer, no less! All the vampires had left the Dark Lord's service after the débâcle that had resulted in the death of Infamia at his own hands and cursed slaughter of Bodmin. Of course, the Dark Lord had no means of compelling the vampires' service. Once could not torture the undead. As delighted as Snape and Lupin had been at the unexpected outcome, to all intents and purposes, Sanguini knew Snape as a Death Eater, so Snape described his rather theatrical antics of sneering down his nose at Sanguini as a traitor. But funnier had been the biographer's attempts to steer the vampire away from the nubile young ladies at the event. Lupin had ended up laughing, and Snape was always glad to see him laugh. It lightened his own mind.

"And did you know, Potter is in the Slug Club?" asked Snape.

"Harry? Really? I thought you said he was atrocious at Potions," laughed Lupin.

"He is," said Snape, one eyebrow raised. "And yet Slughorn says he exceptionally talented."

"Dare I say that perhaps you rather inhibited him?" chuckled Lupin. Snape raised his eyes at Lupin's dig. "Well, his mother was naturally gifted, wasn't she? You remember Lily, don't you, Severus?"

The question blew Snape's mind so completely that Lupin didn't remember, he quite forgot to ask him to question Potter at Christmas. He could only whisper a 'yes', before Lupin changed the subject.

oooOOOooo

The Dark Mark had burned after breakfast on Christmas morning. How odd, Snape thought angrily, that Dumbledore was content for Snape to miss lunch with the pupils for the greater good, but not for Snape and Lupin's personal good.

In point of fact, the Dark Lord had, for once, not intended to summon Snape on Christmas Day. He was most anxious that Snape be seen as an attentive and diligent Head of House, for the Dark Lord wanted to ensure that none would brook Snape's appointment to the Headmastership when the time came.

Despite these assurances, Snape _had_ been summoned. He Disapparated to the perimeter of the wards of Malfoy Manor. The Dark Lord had decided he felt confident enough to leave the run-down manor house and take up residence there instead, it having been raided numerous times. The Dark Lord was sure the Aurors had had their fill of this place for now.

Snape strode to the great hall of the Manor. No Christmas decorations this year. The Malfoy Christmas decorations had always been a great point of pride for Narcissa: perfect (and of course pompous) and in excellent taste (and therefore bland). The hall was cold and bleak, even though a great fire raged in the manorial fireplace.

"Ah Severus!" the Dark Lord said, softly.

Narcissa stood before him, her bearing regal, aside from her downcast eyes.

"I needed to hear … from the horse's mouth, as it were … if young master Draco is still at school and indeed why this is the case?" The 's' of the word lingered as Nagini slithered along the wall, seeming to drag everyone's gaze with her.

"I didn't want to interrupt your affairs, my Lord, with having my son home for the holiday break," Narcissa ventured.

Snape saw how a nerve twitched in her temple, frightened for the blow that could befall her at any moment.

"Is he there, Severus? At school? Eating, drinking and … _making merry_?" sneered the Dark Lord.

"He does not make merry, my Lord. He undoubtedly has plans and works on them industriously …"

"… He doesn't tell you, though, does he, Snape!" Bellatrix interrupted, from the corner of the room where she glowered on the proceedings. "I've made sure you won't mess up what my nephew needs to do!"

"Bella!" the Dark Lord spat. The dark-haired witch cringed back. "It would be well for Draco to succeed … for his own sake, and his family's." His crimson gaze pinned her and she shrank before him. "And you are included in that description."

The Dark Lord looked dispassionately between the two sisters and then sinuously turned towards Bellatrix.

"But do not block Severus if his assistance attains my goal. The despatch of the old fool is what I desire. Whoever accomplishes it for me shall have glory beyond description."

The Dark Lord glided away, leaving Bellatrix livid.

Narcissa's blue eyes raised from the floor as the Dark Lord left her, and they beseeched Snape wordlessly once more.

"It is Draco's task, Snape! Leave him be!" Bellatrix hissed as she stormed out of the room.

oooOOOooo

It was several hours before the Dark Lord released Snape. He knew he was supposed to go back to Hogwarts, but he was unscathed. He thought it was, perhaps, the first Christmas before the Dark Lord where he had not been punished: a gift in itself under other circumstances. But the ongoing punishment of his status as the full-moon brewer and provider of blood, and ultimately the murderer of Albus Dumbledore gave the lie to such a specious "gift".

He wanted to be waiting for Lupin when he returned on Boxing Day morning. That was all he wanted.

Snape walked into the flat, expecting it to be dark and cold, but in the corner was a Christmas tree, trimmed and lit, with presents under it, and a fire crackled in the grate. His heart leapt in his chest.

"Remus?" he called, half-knowing he would be disappointed.

There was no answer. He exhaled heavily and hung his travelling cloak up. As he turned, he heard the soft pop of Tippy's Apparition and turned to find her there.

"Professor Snape!" she said, happily, clasping her bony hands together. "It is so good to have one of Tippy's masters home on Christmas night."

Snape smiled faintly, understanding now how the flat was made ready by a hopeful house-elf. He half listened to her witter as he stood before the tree, immaculately decorated, just like last year. He turned a red and gold glass bauble in his fingers and wondered how house-elves learnt to trim Christmas trees. It was such an odd thought, and yet, it hit him with some force.

Tippy's voice came back into his consciousness as she repeated, "Would Professor Snape like a late supper?"

He couldn't deny it: his stomach felt as if it was gnawing his spine. However, if Tippy had not been there, he would not have eaten.

"What I would really like, Tippy, is a turkey salad sandwich with fresh bread. Is that possible?"

"But of course it is possible, Professor Snape!" squealed Tippy with delight, never normally being able to cater to what the Professor wanted. She scampered into the kitchen and Snape followed.

He dragged a stool up to the counter and watched as she darted around the kitchen, into larder cupboards and the magical cold store for provisions he was unaware they had. A small smile began as he watched her build his sandwich using seeded wholemeal bread, his very favourite, no butter, carving slices of turkey (from the kitchens of Hogwarts, no doubt), layering them on, then a thin layer of cranberry sauce, followed by fresh lettuce leaves and thinly sliced sage and onion stuffing. He gave a soft laugh at the last knowing Tippy was trying to put as much of Christmas lunch into his sandwich.

"Will you eat with me Tippy?" Snape said, without thinking. He watched her eyes widen and a film of tears appear and realised his error and cursed himself. "Eat with me for company," he ordered quickly. It was enough of an order to divert a show of tears of gratitude, and instead she looked around herself, as if dazed by the idea.

"I have had no proper company all day, Tippy, and Master Lupin doesn't come home until tomorrow morning. Take your supper with me and tell me about ..." he thought quickly "... the kitchens at Hogwarts. Tell me about your work there."

He suddenly wondered why he had asked her that, and then realised he really had no idea how the castle functioned at house-elf level. Dumbledore probably did. He had probably made it his job to find out. They both knew that the Dark Lord would install Snape as headmaster next year. Snape supposed this would be a good way to learn.

The elf was wittering away, "such a honour to take food with one's master, such an honour Tippy has never heard of, and on Christmas Day, it is a present for Tippy, that's what it is ..." as she gathered together all manner of small fruits, fresh and dried, and nuts and some cider vinegar and honey as a drink. Snape watched, fascinated by her choices. Snape suddenly recalled Tippy's present. He was fearful of giving it to her without Lupin there to defuse her excess gratitude, but really, this was the time. He Summoned it to himself and handed it to her.

Her eyes widened enormously and her ears flattened.

"Do not cry, Tippy," Snape ordered. "It is for you from Master Lupin and me and now would be the perfect time to open it."

He could see her struggling to compose herself in accordance with his order as she picked open the silver paper tied with a sky-blue ribbon that Snape suspected Lupin used for Tippy to take for a bow. She unpicked the bow carefully and smoothed it out, Vanishing it to her nest and then unwrapped the shimmering paper and opened the box.

She gasped as she pulled out piece by piece the child’s feeding set: a small china plate and bowl with small a silver knife, fork and spoon.

"For Tippy's very own?" she asked breathily.

"Tippy's very own. To eat your supper from," confirmed Snape, watching as she ran her fingers along the rims of the plate and bowl and then placed each item down carefully and placed her fruit and nuts on the plate and sat on a stool on the other side of the kitchen counter, casting Snape furtive glances every now and then as she picked at her meal.

She told him of the kitchen. Of the room as big as the Great Hall; below it, in fact. Tiled from floor to ceiling, with enormous black ranges upon which the house-elves cooked. Huge pots and pans were stored from racks high above them, suspended from the ceiling, Summoned into use by elf magic. On the other side of the kitchen were enormous china sinks for scrubbing vegetables and washing up dirty crockery, glassware and cutlery. In the centre were the large oak tables and chopping blocks where the food was prepared. To the sides were the pantry and cold stores, not as big as one might think for, provided the house-elves had at least some of the food stuff they needed, they could Conjure as much as would be required for the castle's inhabitants' needs.

 _The First Exemption to Gamp's Law,_ Snape thought, with a smile _, in action, in this castle._ He had always wondered just how so much food was within the bursury of the school. He knew a great many legacies and trusts supported by the school, but even so. Its consumption was prodigious.

She told him how a team of elves would be assigned to each dish for a feast such as the Welcoming Feast or Halloween. For small gatherings, such as Christmas lunch, the house-elves had to draw lots to have the honour to prepare the food. It was an unhappy time for those house-elves who were unlucky enough not to be successful.

The Welcoming Feast was the house-elves' high holiday – the chance to shine in duty to their masters! Not only did the food have to be sumptuous enough for the children to squeal with pleasure, the castle had to be spotless, and the house-keeping elves deployed with military precision to fetch the luggage, and upon Sorting, sort the luggage and unpack and arrange the dormitories, feed the familiars and ensure all the owls were seen safely to the Owlery. If the Welcoming Feast came off well, the house-elves felt assured of a successful year. After all, they had all been brought up on the terrible tale of _The-Year-When-The-Food-Was-Not-Ready-On-Time_ and the Grand Master Slytherin himself had freed the entire kitchen staff of Hogwarts!

As Tippy told the tale, her eyes were huge in fear of a horror story passed from generation to generation. Snape found his own eyes widen with hers and then snapped himself out of it.

"At least, nothing like that will happen to you now, unless you wish it," said Snape, licking the tips of his fingers as he finished the very fine sandwich indeed and scarcely noticed that he had been presented with a bowl of piping hot plum pudding and custard.

She gasped loudly and her eyes widened comically again as she shooed him to eat his pudding.

"Kind Professor Snape, sir, would not have known of the Scandal of Gryffindor Tower only two years ago when the housekeeping elves stopped working in there in case they were trapped into freedom by Mistress Menace's knitted clothes. The rogue Dobby," she wrinkled her nose with distaste, "had to clean the whole Tower himself." Tippy nodded with emphatic outrage.

Once Tippy had told him who Mistress Menace was, it was everything he could do to suppress a snort of laughter. _Granger. So clever – and yet so closed-minded in her Muggle-born ways._ He sighed.

Time had flown. He had eaten far more than he intended, felt full and contented and, with a cup of tea in hand, left the little elf with far more knowledge of how the castle worked than he had ever realised. He watched her wash her little china plate with pride and stow in safely in its box and secret it in her nest and then sat in the armchair by the fire and read until he was too tired to stay awake one moment longer.

He retired for the night to his own bed – their own bed. It wasn't the worst Christmas he'd ever had, nor the best, but for a man whose beloved was not with him, the little elf had helped. She really had.

He thought of their very first Christmas – how he had been assaulted by the fractured wolf the night before, but how it had brought Snape to an understanding of his fundamental and growing affection and attraction to Lupin, the man; the next year had been that dratted Yule Ball and the dance to Glenn Miller and – oh! – the chocolate spread. Snape stretched out luxuriously in the bed, as his stomach clenched at the memory. And the Agathonian circlets that Lupin had found to bond with him. The day he knew Lupin truly loved him beyond any and all others. Such a Christmas.

And then … and then, last year: their first Christmas as a bonded couple. The return of the Dark Lord and the return of torture on Christmas Day. But Lupin had been there, had argued with Dumbledore on his behalf, and suddenly, it had felt worthwhile. Unthinking, Snape traced the bonding circlet with one finger, feeling it nestled under the skin, its curlicues spreading out and he smiled faintly as he drifted off to sleep.

It was as sound a sleep as he had slept these many months, and before he knew it, he felt his own hand being lifted gently and held by the hand of his husband. There was no doubt it was Lupin. He knew the touch of his skin, and the smell of him. He slowly awoke, wondering why Lupin hadn't got into bed with him.

Something was wrong, and he awoke fully and suddenly to the sound of a softly incanted revealing spell.

He saw Lupin sitting on the side of the bed casting over his hand and wrist and Snape was sudden breathless as the Unbreakable Vow's bonds glowed golden under the revealing charm.

Snape's dark eyes glittered with apprehension to see the casting made visible and an expression of such resigned sadness on Lupin's face as he placed his wand down and covered Snape's hand gently in his own.

"Harry told me," said Lupin, brushing Snape's sleep-messed hair from Snape's face. "He overheard you talking to Draco." Lupin's voice hitched as he spoke and Snape felt awash with guilt. He knew what Potter had heard. After all, he'd only managed to pin Draco down once so far this term.

Under any other circumstances, Snape would have snapped about Potter eavesdropping, probably under that blasted invisibility cloak, but the look of sadness of Lupin's face chased everything else away. Snape sat up and rested his forehead against Lupin's.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Such a simple question, but one incapable of answer.

"I'm sorry, Remus. I could not," he whispered. "I am not able."

"Is it the same thing? The Vow and the Charm?"

Snape nodded slowly. Then he gasped as he felt Lupin's arms wrap around him and pull him into Lupin's body.

"I wish I could kill him myself and free you, my own dear Severus."

Snape moaned at Lupin's mistaken assumption that both Fidelius and Unbreakable Vow were for the Dark Lord. If he did but know, what would he think? Snape cursed his own obedience to Dumbledore. He should have just told Lupin when it was first asked of him.

"Is there nothing you can tell me?" Lupin asked quietly.

"Beloved, no, I am so sorry. So sorry." Snape's voice broke.

"No," said Lupin firmly. "You have no need." And his embrace tightened around him and Snape wrapped his own arms around Lupin, his lips meeting Lupin's in a lingering, soft and heart-felt kiss to begin their own Christmas.

 

* * *


	85. Introspection & Recollection

After their short conversation, Lupin had made love to Snape tenderly, each touch and kiss Lupin's affirmation of his love and trust. Snape had relished every one, every caress as if it were an act of worship. It was one of those times when Lupin him took him to his brink so slowly and carefully that, by the time he crested his orgasm, he could have cried with the overwhelming physical and emotional release, and at the words of love that Lupin whispered into his mouth.

And now, it was mid-morning. And Snape lay with one hand behind his head as the other played through Lupin's shaggy, yet greying, hair as Lupin slept, his head resting on Snape's midriff, his arm wrapped possessively around Snape's slender torso.

He knew the Unbreakable Vow had distressed Lupin and they had yet had the chance to discuss it – or at least, as much of it as he was able – but Snape was seeing more and more the physical toll that the life Lupin was being forced to lead was also having on him. Snape was sure there was more grey in his beloved's hair, he could see that Lupin had lost weight, that his sadness seemed to be etched into the lines of his face. What wouldn't Snape do to wipe it all from Lupin's face, eradicate his ills and give him strength?

His own experiments were sluggish. Such deep magic defied his attempts to find a cure, and he, instead, persisted with his experiments for slowing down the damage that the curse – or rather the changes that it forced on the human body – did to its victims.

Snape knew he had rare magical abilities. He had created new spells – many of them. There weren't many wizards and witches that could do that. And yet he had – often. He had made logic-defying leaps to invent and perfect potions. This absolutely should not be beyond him.

As he carded Lupin's hair, he thought on what the Lycanthropic curse meant. It was the Darkest of all magics. At some time in the long distant past, a powerful wizard or witch had cursed a man to become a wolf at the full moon – shattering his own body to become a hunter, a predator of human flesh. With every bitten human being, the curse would be perpetuated. Such a Dark and savage curse. Was the curse against that first victim personal? Or was it a curse to create a Dark creature, perhaps for an army of Dark creatures? Was it just to create a self-perpetuating curse – an experiment with no animus against that first victim? Snape knew that deep magic recognised intention. He had to discover that original caster's true intention if he was to find the counter-curse or potion for a ritual to undo it. He had to continue his researches.

As he pondered, he recalled what Lupin had said to him.

_You remember Lily, don't you, Severus?_

Why did Lupin not remember? Snape and Lily had been inseparable. Hadn't they?

Lying there he remembered the Sorting. He recalled that sickening lurch in his stomach when she was Sorted away from him. Not just away, but to Gryffindor, of all places! Perhaps, his traitorous mind had supplied, that was for the best – a Muggle-born in Slytherin! He had always known Muggle-borns had no place in Slytherin. His mother had _that_ word for them. But he had hoped it would be different for Lily. He didn't know about other Muggle-borns, but Lily was an extraordinary witch. He had seen that the very first time he had set eyes on her. He had been young then; he hadn't understood the _politics_ of it all. He had thought it had to do with the quality of magic. He had learnt otherwise quickly. There were some pure-bloods who were positively mediocre in magic.

Had Lily been sorted into Ravenclaw, it wouldn't have been so bad, but he already knew that Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry was legendary. He had groaned out loud when she had been Sorted and he had watched with longing as his friend sat next to that loud-mouth brat from the train. The loud-mouth who coined that foul nickname that had dogged the rest of his life. Sirius Black. He felt some small solace that she had turned her back on him when she recognised him from the train.

He had been one of the last to be Sorted, begging the Hat to put him in Slytherin. He remembered sourly how Lucius Malfoy had patted him on the back, welcoming him. Of course, that false bonhomie had fallen away as soon as he and the other half-bloods were in the common room and out of the way of the staff. He tore his mind away from that train of thought. Whilst curled up with Lupin this way, he wanted nothing to do with _those_ memories.

He remembered Lily had come to him the very next day and they had explored by the Lake together, as excited as 11year old children could be, Snape feeling so important telling her about the Giant Squid and watching her hands fly to her face as she giggled. He remembered that she looked like an angel, her red hair catching the sun, as the ripples on the Lake caught the sun too. It was such a vivid memory. There had been some teasing from older girls in her House, but they kept meeting. They had some lessons together too: History of Magic and Potions. She had tried to be his partner in Potions, but that lump, Mary MacDonald, insisted they work together, so Snape worked with Mulciber. Their tables were next to each other and they watched each other work surreptitiously, Lily putting into effect all the little tricks and tips Snape had taught her that he, in turn, had learnt from his mother when he had watched her brew in their cellar at Spinner's End. He was so proud when Slughorn singled her out for praise, not picking up on the slight to himself when his own Boil Cure had been perfect. He hadn't cared. Not back then anyway.

Very quickly, he learnt that his friendship with Lily was considered unhealthy and unbefitting a Slytherin. He and the other half-bloods were already becoming aware that their position in the House was parlous. It had started with unpleasant comments, but quickly escalated to being tripped, pinched, kicked and hit for fun. They ran errands for the pure-bloods, and soon were doing the homework for the other pure-blood first years, if they were too lazy to do it themselves.

Snape had told Lily some of this, but not that it was to do with blood status. He didn't think she'd understand that. She understood his need to get away, though, and not be found, and suggested they find their own hideaway. They found a disused classroom, and there they met as often as they could. They would laugh, and joke (or rather Lily would, and Snape would drink in her laughter like a healing balm as the bullying in his House began to escalate). They did their homework together, practising charms and potions. The room became Snape's port in the turbulent storm of his life at Hogwarts. They would still talk to each other occasionally out in the open, but usually they waited until they were together rather than listen to the carping of Lily's girlfriends about having a snake for a friend, or the snide comments of Snape's Housemates about 'not knowing what was good for him'.

It became very clear that the loud-mouth brat, Black, and his equally entitled friend, Potter, were after his half-blood too. After all, a shabby half-blood, clearly without friends, was a fair target, wasn't he? Snape remembered his feeling of utter helplessness, all too well. Lily never understood why it was defensive spells he began to prefer to practise (although he loved creative charms too, they wouldn't be much help to him).

When Potter and Black did catch him without his classmates, and Lily was there, she would always stick up for him. He felt so useless. _He_ should be sticking up for _her_ , not vice versa. He felt so humiliated. But he could never make her understand.

"But you're my friend, Sev! My best friend! Why wouldn't I stick up for you?" He remembered her tinkling voice. It made him close his eyes against the sharp remembrance of that he would never hear that voice again.

"Because I'm a boy, Lily. You must understand that!" he had cried.

"Yes, but they know I'd go to Professor McGonagall! That James Potter. He's so full of himself. I'd stick up for anyone when it comes to him, and he knows it. He's got such a big head, Sev. Honestly, I'm surprised he can hold himself upright ..."

Snape remembered how he had smiled as she had held her hands out to the sides of her head to do an expanding gesture and made a silly face.

She never understood how it hurt his pride that those boys ragged on him mercilessly for letting a _girl_ defend him on top of everything else they hated about him on sight.

Potter accumulated another couple of hangers-on: the sickly Remus Lupin and the waste of space, Peter Pettigrew. The older Slytherins laughed at the odd assortment of blood traitors and half-bloods. They were out for Black's blood too. He was a blood traitor far worse than Potter in their eyes. All Black's family had been in Slytherin. His cousins, Andromeda and Narcissa, were in Slytherin right at their time, their shock at Black's Sorting evident. Why, it could even have threatened the blood match that had been made for Narcissa with the Malfoy family and Andromeda's with the Irish branch of the Yaxley family. And yet, the runt and his blood traitor pal insisted on finding and picking on as many Slytherins as possible as if to prove their Gryffindor credentials, and the Slytherins responded in kind. It was their duty. Snape joined in with any Slytherin revenge, exactly how they instructed him. He used his knowledge of Dark curses he had gained from his mother's old books to try to gain himself some standing in his House. He was only half successful. They thought him useful, but the bullying didn't ease.

Snape sighed at the recollections as he tried to remember how it might have looked to Lupin back then.

So it went on, and by their third year, Snape would only meet Lily in secret. It was to save them both, he had reasoned at the time. He didn't want to give up his friendship with Lily, but he didn't want to bring himself or Lily to the attention of those in his House anymore than was necessary for this friendship they so loathed. The abuse in his own House had ratcheted higher and Snape found himself a target for Lucius Malfoy more and more in this, Malfoy's final year. The little raggedy half-blood with no friends. It was so easy for Malfoy.

Snape knew that Lily was sometimes offended by their secret meetings, but he could never tell her the full reason for needing to keep their friendship a secret. She thought he was ashamed of her, but that wasn't true. It wasn't true at all. But he never knew how to tell her it was protectiveness, and selfishness, if he was honest, that drove him to secrecy.

She hated how he went around with boys with an outspoken affinity for Dark magic. He couldn't tell her why he had to acquiesce in everything his Housemates did. If he didn't, things would be worse, so much worse. And when she would get cross with him for not publically disowning those Slytherins and tell him off, he'd go to their classroom on his own and work there, perfecting his spells and potions.

Yes, Potter was often on his mind when he perfected those spells. Potter and Black who seemed to find in him sport of a different kind to Malfoy, and their hangers-on: Pettigrew who watched with the hunger of a hyena and Lupin with his frown. The frown he always wore when those two boys plagued him. How Snape had hated Lupin for that dozy look. Not taking part, but keeping to one side. He remembered at the time how he thought that made Lupin even worse.

Now, as he looked at the man sleeping across his body, he understood that boy better. Lupin and his abject terror of rejection, bred into him by well-meaning parents and conditioned self-hatred of Wizarding society. Black had told him Lupin had tried to get them to leave him alone when they were in the privacy of Gryffindor Tower. Often. He had forgiven Lupin by then – bonded with him, no less. But it had been good to hear from Black's own lips nonetheless.

By the fourth year, Malfoy had left, but the bullying did not stop. There were those who still considered themselves entitled to treat Snape and other half-bloods however they liked, but Snape was starting to come into his own now. His magic was becoming stronger and his casting skills more successful. Avery and Mulciber took him along on their own incursions into Gryffindor territory. He went along willingly – happy to have revenge for the many slights and injuries Black and Potter played on him.

He also noticed that Potter was looking at Lily in a different way. He fancied her: Snape's Lily. Snape hated it and, self-destructively, he could not help himself from running Potter down or demanding she stay clear of him. He even knew it was counter-productive. But it was like a wound he couldn't help scratching. By the fifth year, he and Lily still met in their room, but things were changing. Lily was changing, and if he were honest, so was he. They would both become quite emotional when they had disagreements and seemed to be unable to resolve them very well. Snape recognised _now_ how they were becoming hormonal teenagers, but he didn't understand that then. All he knew was the utter devastation he felt whenever they had cross words or when she walked away from an argument about Dark magic, or whether Lupin was a werewolf, or why he couldn't tell her why Potter really wasn't a hero, or when his Housemates called her _that_ name. The arguments and silences happened more and more and every time left him crushed and unsure how to make it right.

He just worked harder to be more powerful, to have the best magic. Eventually, she would see who he was and wipe her hands of braggarts like Potter. He had been sure of it.

And then there was that fateful day by the Lake. Once again, she stood up for him, and in his complete humiliation he lashed out at her in the way he _knew_ would hurt her the most. There had been no making it right after that. He had tried, but she wouldn't speak to him. The mirror he had enchanted for them to chat came back to him. He remembered to this day how that had hurt.

He tried to see her over the summer holidays, but she had refused to see him. How Petunia had crowed to send him from their door. He was so shamed when he saw the sympathetic look from Mr. Evans as he too turned Snape away. It is one humiliation after another. Snape could do no more than steel himself and try not to feel it as keenly as he did.

Through their sixth and seventh years, they were no longer friends. Lily made mirrors for Black and Potter using the spell Snape had shown her. He heard them bragging of them, and it had cut him deeply. Snape mourned as if she had died but tried not to let others see that he watched her always, missing her voice, her laugh and the way she could make him forget all his troubles as they discovered magic together in that small classroom they claimed as their own.

How could Lupin have known as he watched his friend, Potter, win the girl of his dreams? When Potter started courting Lily, Snape was nowhere on the scene. Out of sight and out of mind. Why should he even think that Lupin would remember how close he had been to Lily when it was he that had hidden it? How egotistical to think anyone would notice him.

But it was better this way, wasn't it? Better than Lupin should never know. That he should never guess at that terrible thing that Snape had done all those years ago.

oooOOOooo

They had lunched together as Tippy had fussed around them with a roast beef rib and roast potatoes and cabbage, Snape's beef well done, Lupin's rare. As they ate, Lupin told him of his time at the Burrow.

First, he repeated to Snape word for word his conversation with Potter, even down to how Lupin had tried to be impartial about Snape when Potter had ranted about him. As Lupin told him, he coloured in shame, but Snape picked up his hand and kissed it in understanding. Lupin continued. Snape could confirm nothing about Malfoy, but he listened intently as Lupin relayed the conversation between Potter and Arthur too, but the detail was too sparse to understand what they could have been talking of, and Lupin confessed that he knew no more. His hope that Potter may have seen something that Snape could identify, and so foil Malfoy's plot, receded with the conversation.

Lupin told him of torture by Celestina Warbeck and of the chilly atmosphere between Molly and Fleur. It had been pronounced and embarrassing.

"I'm told that's what makes a family Christmas," Snape said acidly.

Lupin laughed and promised Snape their family Christmases would not be like that. Snape could have sworn his heart skipped a beat with the promise.

Then Lupin then told him that Potter had asked about the _Levicorpus_ spell. Lupin told Snape he had told Potter how it had been fashionable in their OWL year but when he noticed Snape's reflex flinch, he apologised profusely.

"I'm sure that's not important," said Lupin quickly and moved quickly on to the visit of Scrimgeour with the erstwhile Percy. That had not been so amusing. Clearly, the Ministry wanted Potter for propaganda purposes, even after the shameful way it had treated him the year before. It could scarcely be believed.

Snape had tried hard to hide his relief that Tonks had not been there only to be troubled to hear that Molly appeared to have taken up the cause to match-make Lupin and Tonks. Away from the children, she had tried to persuade Lupin that he had no reason to fear rejection because of Tonks's age and that she was sure if Lupin would just trust in love, everything would work out well.

Snape's jaw dropped, his fork half-way to his mouth. "She said that?"

"Exactly that." Lupin nodded. "I can only assume this is what Dora has told has told her." Lupin shook his head. "I don't want to embarrass Dora by telling Molly that I have no interest in her that way." Lupin sighed. "Selfishly, I don't want to humiliate Dora so she refuses to stay with me at the full moon and you are endangered. Luckily, Bill was there. He was able to step in and stop the conversation. At least, that's someone who knows the truth of us, Severus. He and I had a chat in the garden after everyone had gone to bed. He said he'd try to speak to his mother to convince her not to interfere, but it's a terrible mess, Severus. What on earth do we do?"

oooOOOooo

Snape had to commute between the flat and Hogwarts. He could not afford prolonged absences or Dumbledore trying to interfere. He set up an alarm system so that if any student in his House needed his help, Tippy would inform him. He could use the external Floo to Dumbledore's office or Apparate to the edge of the enchantments, if necessary. It was a hassle, but it was worth it to be with Lupin as much as possible.

He tried to have one, possibly two meals with Lupin, and the minimum of one in the Great Hall so the pupils remaining over the holiday could see him. It wasn't unknown for him to miss meals. As long as he was seen once a day, he was satisfied. He made his House inspections as usual, hoping to find Malfoy, but he was always missing. He had stopped leaving messages with his Housemates. He didn't want Malfoy's disobedience to be widely known, or indeed emulated.

His concern about Dumbledore's interference turned out to be unfounded. Dumbledore was rarely there himself. All Minerva would tell him was that he was off on important business, but had not divulged its nature. She looked at him curiously when he turned down offers of a game of chess or a hand at cards by Charity and Septima. Even Filius seemed to want to engage him in Christmas games. He was sure they had never been this insistent on his company before. Perhaps, he had never been so keen to get away before. Only Poppy nodded at him with a small smile, knowing why he was in such a rush to get away.

The day before the full moon, however, Snape waited in Dumbledore's office with a goblet of _Spiritus Vitae_ and Dumbledore returned, looking wan and worn out. Snape performed the casting to ensure the curse remained trapped, as Dumbledore drank down the golden potion to stopper death once more. He avoided Snape's questions with mild pleasantries and enquiries after Lupin's health.

"I dare say he would be happier and healthier if you released him from this fool's errand with the urban werewolves. You know Remus cannot fight against the lure of Greyback's promises of revenge on wizardkind and blood on demand!" spat Snape. "When are you going to accept that it's hopeless and let Remus have his life back?"

"Hopeless, Severus?" Dumbledore said softly as he sat back and regarded Snape over his glasses. "Did I give up on you when so many told me you were a hopeless cause?"

"That ..." Snape ground out through gritted teeth, "is different and you know it."

"Do I, Severus? Do I, indeed?"

oooOOOoo

Snape let himself in at Grimmauld Place as usual, and into the room where Lupin and Tonks were as soon as the transformation had finished. No wards prevented his entry and Tonks was withdrawn and meek. That in itself struck Snape as odd. He was used to her flashes of temper when she so resembled her cousin, but there was none of that. She pulled on her boots and biker's jacket, then wrapped herself in a garish travelling cloak and left with a whispered, "Happy new year, Remus." With that she shot away, clattering down the stairs.

As usual, Snape checked Lupin for injuries. This time there were some small tears and large bruises. That hadn't happened for a while. It had clearly been a poor transformation. Snape healed Lupin carefully and then dressed him gently and then, on the front doorstep of Grimmauld Place, Snape held Lupin close and they Disapparated to the farmhouse at Cadr Idris.

Snape didn't let Lupin show him the memories straightaway. He helped him to the bathroom and ran the bath for them both. Only when Lupin had slept and eaten would Snape then look, but for now, as he soaped Lupin's chest and neck as Lupin leant against him in the bath, Snape would take his time to care for Lupin.

Tonks could wait. Whatever had happened that had caused her to look so upset could wait. This was their anniversary. It was their time, not hers.

* * *


	86. Waning Moon on Cadr Idris

Snape had bathed Lupin and then helped him back to bed. Although Snape had healed Lupin's injuries, Lupin was still exhausted. Lupin had offered Snape his wand to look at his memories, but Snape gently declined and climbed into bed with him instead.

"You should know what happened. It's important," Lupin rasped.

"Not today," Snape whispered and gathered Lupin in his arms. "Not this day."

He knew Lupin felt the same, because today he did not insist or protest. Instead, he settled into the crook of Snape's shoulder and held the arms that wrapped around him with a small sigh of contentment. Within minutes, Lupin was sleeping and Snape listened to his settled breathing, enjoying holding Lupin to himself, this day of all days. He kissed the crown of Lupin's head and realised as he inhaled the scent of Lupin's hair that, in his own mind, he was relieved that they had made it to this day. It had been a tumultuous year and yet they were still here, and together, relatively unscathed. A mixture of relief and happiness that he had not felt for months settled in him and, cradling Lupin still, he drifted off to sleep as well.

After they had awoken, Tippy had made them lunch and their afternoon had been quietly spent with Snape reading to Lupin, as Lupin had laid his head on Snape's lap, watching Snape avidly.

"I'd like to go to the top of the mountain, Severus. Feel the magic of it, just like our bonding. Will you take me?"

"Of course I will," said Snape, softly and helped Lupin to dress against the cold December air.

Tippy produced a basket of food for them to take with them. Snape wondered if she remembered that they had stayed all night on their last anniversary and on the night of their bonding. He couldn't help but smile at what the little elf seemed to know. He didn't know if Lupin was well enough to stay on the mountain top all night, although, of course, Snape could make it warm and comfortable for him. Perhaps the deep magic would be enough to invigorate him. He couldn't help but feel angry. He hadn't seen Lupin as weak as this from a transformation for years, and certainly not since he had Claimed Snape. His mind couldn't help but wonder what had happened to cause the level of distress that had caused damage during the transformation. He would find out tomorrow – but not today.

When they were ready, Snape Apparated them both to the top of Cadr Idris and cast a charm to shield them both from the cruel winter weather.

Lupin sat on the stone, his hand moving over the surface until he leant on it, absorbing the magic. Snape sat opposite him, watching as Lupin's eyes closed to feel the energy. This must have been one of the reasons why Dumbledore had chosen this safe house for Lupin of all the others that he had: to assist him to heal from his transformations.

Lupin lay down on the stone, his hands behind his head, his expression peaceful. Snape watched him as he sat at his side, wondering if he would sleep. But he didn't. He was clearly allowing himself to steep in the ancient magic. After a time, he began to talk, small talk about the werewolves he'd tried to talk to, telling Snape their individual heartbreaking stories that could so easily have been his own: how they would steal, lie, cheat and even kill just to subsist in the disused tunnels of the London Underground. And if an indigent was killed in a fight between werewolves, neither magical nor Muggle authorities enquired further. Snape listened and asked questions and watched to see some colour return to Lupin's cheeks as he became more animated as he talked.

It wasn't long before it was twilight, and there, on the mountain top, the first of the stars began to be visible.

Lupin raised himself and stretched out his hand to Snape's arm and lovingly wrapped his hand around the circlet there as he bent his head forward to Snape's forehead.

"Do you remember the words for our bonding, Severus?" Lupin asked softly.

"I do," Snape purred, his hand playing with Lupin's hair. "The circlets would manifest our love and fidelity ..."

"... and safeguard our souls for each other," finished Lupin. He pressed his lips to Snape's forehead. "You safeguard my soul, Severus. You _are_ my soul."

Snape closed his eyes slowly, Lupin's voice seeming to hum in his body and settle in his soul. Then, holding Lupin around his back, Snape laid him on the stone, caressing his dear face with his fingertips, drinking in his blue eyes, his own eyes intense with longing. Lupin brushed Snape's cheek then held the back of his head to bring him in to a soft kiss that slowly built in intensity as Snape held himself over Lupin on his elbows, relishing the feel of Lupin's hands tracing down his spine and then up again to hold his shoulders.

"My Severus," Lupin gasped as he broke the kiss and began to unbutton Snape's robe, Snape sitting back on his heels to let Lupin finish. Then Snape removed the rest of his own clothes and slowly and carefully removed Lupin's, Lupin's hands stroking and caressing Snape's as they worked.

Snape inhaled deeply as he took in the sight of Lupin, naked on the stone: scarred, and with some residual bruising from last night, but open and inviting to him, beautiful and everything he could ever want.

Snape lowered himself onto Lupin and into his open arms. They kissed deeply, Lupin finally breaking the kiss to trail his tongue and lips along Snape's jaw. Snape threw his head back to allow Lupin to kiss along his throat and the hollow at the base of it, finally succumbing to the desire to press his hips against Lupin's, trapping their erections together and moving gently against Lupin, making him moan deliciously deep in his throat, as he freed one hand from Lupin's hair to travel lightly down his body, gently grazing his skin, hardening one nipple and tracing his ribs and then stroking his fingers down his side to trace his pelvic bone, listening all the time for those sighs and moans that seemed to travel straight to his groin.

Snape slipped to the side of Lupin's body so his hand could travel freely across Lupin's stomach as Snape trailed his tongue across Lupin's chest, taking his time as he felt Lupin's hands in his hair as he excited Lupin's skin under his lips, tongue and teeth, travelling lower, now smiling to hear Lupin's gasps and moans increasing, until Snape swirled his tongue around the tip of Lupin's cock and felt Lupin arch and gasp loudly in response.

This is what he wanted: his husband under his hand and mouth this day after the full moon when Lupin ceded to him so completely, and this day of all days: their bonding anniversary. It couldn't be more perfect and his body responded to his emotions and to the magic that magnified them, burning brightly with passion and urgency as he ran his tongue along Lupin's shaft, mouthing against it and, as he took Lupin in his mouth fully, his hand making its way underneath Lupin's body to his whispered pleas of "Yes, Severus! Please!" as his body stretched to Snape's knowing mouth and touch.

Snape's fingers prepared him as gently as he was able, trying to keep himself restrained, although he had never managed it yet in this place that brightened every sensation, physical and emotional, making him moan as even Lupin's reactions became more urgent, his hips straining against Snape's greedy mouth and the feel of Snape's questing fingers inside him making Lupin cry out with each brush against his prostate.

Snape could feel from the strain in Lupin's hips and the tightening of his balls, he was near. He brushed Lupin's sweet spot more as he sped up with his mouth, listening for that glissando of cries as Lupin scrunched Snape's hair in his hands and came hard down his throat and Snape drained him, savouring the taste, the sounds, the feel. All. All fuelling his own hunger.

Snape pulled himself up over Lupin whose breath was still ragged and whose body was slick with sweat, although his hands pulled Snape up to face him, and they kissed hungrily, both tasting Lupin on Snape's tongue as Snape guided his cock to Lupin's opening, pushing himself in slowly, feeling the hot friction along his painfully hard erection as Lupin wrapped his long legs around Snape's waist to draw him in until he was fully sheathed.

His mind fogged with his hot and heavy desire, Snape held on for a few breaths to savour the feel and then moved to the sound of his own murmurs of delight and Lupin's deep throated moans of encouragement and words of love, the heat and tightness drawing on his groin deliciously as he held himself up on his hands to be able to look at Lupin's wanton expression, the parted lips, the dusky eyes, and almost growling with lust, he plunged deeper still.

Lupin threw his arms over his head and groaned for more, calling Snape's name. Snape could not resist it; he never could, and thrust harder and faster, the rhythm and heat searing through him to his core, as Lupin thrust back towards him to take him in as deeply as he could as Snape sped up, his rhythm becoming erratic.

"Oh Remus!" Snape cried as the heat burst through him and his orgasm crested in hard waves, his vision blacking out as his body strained and he pumped unsteadily the last of his orgasm into Lupin body, held tightly to him by Lupin's legs still locked around him as Snape's arms gave way. Snape slumped onto Lupin, their bodies wet and their hair damp, as Lupin's soft lips found Snape's, although neither could breathe comfortably yet.

Lupin feathered Snape's partly open mouth with kisses.

"My very own soul, Severus. Always."

oooOOOooo

The night had passed in love-making and affection, talking and laughter and the basket of fine food and elf-made wine that Tippy had prepared for them. The magic of the mountain invigorated them both and, in turn, relaxed them both. By morning, Lupin was fully recovered from his transformation ordeal of the full moon, and they took their time to walk back down to the farmhouse, aching, yet innervated just the same.

It was over too quickly.

After breakfast, Lupin led a reluctant Snape to the settee to view the last meeting with Tonks.

_Legilimens._

Lupin had settled in his nest of blankets as usual, and he heard Tonks climb the stairs at Grimmauld Place. She let herself in. She looked more washed out than usual, her hair lifeless and almost colourless, her pallor the same. She said hello to Lupin with a small sad smile as she threw off her travelling cloak, followed by a heavy leather jacket and sat cross-legged before Lupin.

"Hello, Dora," Lupin said lightly. "Did you have a nice Christmas?"

Such an innocuous question. Her eyes welled with tears and her face turned down to hide behind her lank hair.

"I was on my own," she whispered, and it was clear that there was a hint of accusation there. Snape felt Lupin's confusion.

"On your ...? Didn't you spend Christmas with your mum and dad?" Lupin asked lightly, although Snape felt a worm of worry begin in Lupin's gut, not to mention Snape's own irritation.

Tonks flicked her hair.

"I've been with David the past couple of years. I didn't want to go back to spending Christmases with my parents, like a child."

Snape felt steel in Lupin's response.

"I dearly wish my parents were still alive to spend Christmas with, Dora," responded Lupin, but then immediately he felt ashamed. She had only just lost her mate. He should not be so harsh.

Tonks's face flushed, but Lupin's irritation had already fallen away and he tried to move the conversation on.

"I was at Burrow. Molly said you had been invited," he said, trying to sound conciliatory.

The sentence hung in the hair, sounding almost a challenge to Tonks's self-imposed lonely Christmas. A reminder that she had had two places to go. Snape felt irritation in Lupin's response, a knowledge that she was attempting to manipulate him. He felt Lupin squash it down, to be grateful for what she was doing for them.

"I didn't want to be with lots of people, Remus," she said plaintively.

Lupin nodded. "I understand. It must have been very difficult for you: your first Christmas without David. I'm so sorry. Truly I am." Snape felt the sorrow and the imagination of Lupin's utter devastation if he lost Snape after all this time.

Tonks rubbed at her nose, in a mannerism that reminded Lupin of a child, and kept her eyes cast down.

"We should get ready," he said quietly. She sniffed and took off her jumper and T shirt and pulled her hair aside, not looking up at him. Snape felt Lupin's disquiet and disgust at himself that it was necessary, and a desperate desire to apologise.

He held her arms as he bit, not deeply, but enough to re-assert a claim on her. He felt her lift in his hands, a spasm of desire thrilling Lupin that was clearly reciprocated in her and which both crushed. This time, it was Lupin who looked away, subduing the creature that was so near surface.

"I wanted to be with you."

Lupin's face snapped back to her in shock. Both he and Snape had suspected as much, but neither had expected her to be so forthright.

"What?" Lupin stuttered. "But, Dora. We spoke about this. I thought we understood ..."

"I can't help how I feel, Remus," she interrupted. "I really care for you."

"I care for you too, but not like this ..."

"And Molly agrees with me. She thinks we'd be good together. And I've spoken to ..."

"I know you did. You shouldn't be talking to others like this. Please!"

"I know you think only Sirius knew how to be with you, but you know that I know too. I know how to deal with your condition. I dealt with it with David! Remus, I could be good for you ..."

"Dora. Stop it, please. I'm not David. And this is nothing to do with Sirius. Please." Snape felt Lupin's panic rising, his conscience already too troubled by what they were asking of Tonks at this time. "I'm sorry you've been embroiled with me. It was too much as ask of you, too personal ..."

"It's not personal if we love each other. You just think I can do better, but I should be the judge of that! Stop pushing me away, Remus!"

"Dora, please. It's not like that. I think both of us should take our time. We should ..."

Dora stood suddenly, tears spilling down her cheeks.

"I don't want to take our time, Remus. I want to be with you. If you don't want me, you should tell me now, because I can't do this with you every month if I mean nothing to you. It breaks my heart ..."

Snape felt Lupin's shame crawl over him like scalding water, as his stomach turned at the thought of Snape in danger in front of the Dark Lord.

"Dora, I'm sorry. I ... "

And with no warning, his spine tore open and he began to scream. Snape reeled back from Lupin's mind in horror at the agony, and at the scene that had unfolded.

He re-focused on Lupin who had grasped his hands and was panting at the remembered pain and the shock of Snape experiencing it. Lupin breathed deeply until he was calm again, Snape having cupped his hands with his own. Eventually, Lupin continued.

"It was a bad transformation because I was so agitated. And then ... then she kept on how she loved me, wanted to spend new year with me. I know I walked away from her and curled up in a corner. I may have growled. I was in pain as well, you see. I tried to be calm, but it was so hard. Then she cried again. She talked about how this would be the last full moon. She was very sorry that she couldn't help me manage my transformation, but it hurt her too much. She sat in the corner away from me and I was too angry, to hurt to try to heal the rift."

Lupin's calm facade crumbled and he dropped his face into his hands.

"I can't blame her. It always has been a cruel thing to ask of her."

Lupin looked up and held Snape's hands tightly, his face etched in misery.

"I'm so sorry, Severus. The Darkness in me has endangered your life. Forgive me."

Snape quickly took his hands from Lupin's and grabbed his face, kissing him fiercely.

"I would not change what we have together for the world, Remus. Do you understand me? Claim and all!" He softened his hold and then dropped his hands to Lupin's shoulders.

"Severus. I don't deserve you. I don't know how to keep you safe."

"Let's think on it, Remus. There has to be a way."

oooOOOooo

As the Order meeting wound up and the others congregated around drinks, Snape swept up the hall to the library, he heard the stomping of Moody's staff as he lurched after him.

"Snape! I want a word!"

Snape groaned inwardly. There was little that the grizzled old retired Auror could have to say to him that Snape wanted to hear. Lupin might like the old man, but Snape had too many memories of his interrogations by Moody after the first war to let bygones be bygones. Snape turned slowly and glared, wand at the ready.

"What is it?" he clipped.

Moody closed the door and charmed it silent and locked. Snape raised an eyebrow as he raised his wand. Moody stared at the tip and a sneer spread over his ruined features, reminding Snape of Barty Crouch's rendition of the man.

"Not today, boy," Moody said, as he pushed Snape's wand down with the tips of his fingers and moved away and perched on the large leather-inlaid desk, settling his hands on top of his staff. His magic eye roved between Snape's shoulder and the bonding circlet but his natural eye fixed Snape's own.

"I want ter know what's going on, boy," said Moody, gruffly. "With you and ..." he pointed to the bonding circlet, "that husband of yours. What's going on at the full moon, and why have you involved Nymphadora?"

Snape took a step back at the audacity of the questions and the challenging tone. _How dare he presume?_

"That's none of your affair," Snape snapped, as he made towards the Floo, his jaw set in anger.

The old man's hand had grabbed Snape's upper arm in a flash and the other hand had drawn his wand, and was now pointing at Snape's throat.

"I'm responsible for Nymphadora being in the Order, Snape," Moody growled into his face. "I've kept yer bonding secret, like Albus asked, but I don't know what you and that husband of yours are playin' at and I certainly don't think it's very savoury. I don't like seein' her taken advantage of when she's still grieving ..."

"I don't know what your protégée has been telling you, Moody!" Snape spat, pushing Moody away from him hard in fury that Tonks had told Moody ... told him what? That Lupin wanted a relationship, and Moody concluded it was destined to be a threesome. His stomach roiled with offence. "If you think for one moment _we_ have any interest in _Nymphadora_ Tonks, you are seriously deluded. If you want to find out about the arrangement for the full moon, I suggest you speak to Albus. It was his idea, after all." Snape shrugged his shoulders to smooth out his robe, his teeth still gritted as he grabbed a handful Floo powder.

"Not so fast, sonny Jim! I want answers," Moody growled, his hand now pulling Snape's wand hand away from the Floo. He wrenched Snape away from the fireplace, his wand once again pressed to Snape's throat. "Albus is hardly ever at meetings. You know that. Now how about you jus' tell me what I want ter know? Hm? If he can tell me, you can in his stead."

Angry at the questions and the implications; angrier still at the old man's physical imposition, Snape whirled from Moody's grip, his wand poised, putting the large desk between himself and Moody. Moody held his hands up and then slowly sheathed his wand in its holster and sat heavily in one of the library chairs.

"Tell me, Snape."

Snape glowered at him, his breathing faster than usual as his wand remained directed at the old Auror's heart.

"Please," the old man added, with an impatient and patently false smile. He and Snape regarded each other for what felt like a long time and then Snape stood down, relaxing the grip on his wand, but not holstering it.

"Do you know what happens to a werewolf and his human mate if they are separated at the full moon?" asked Snape, his lip curling with the disdain he felt having to discuss anything so personal with this man. He was sure that Lupin had told him Moody knew about this back when Polyjuiced Barty Crouch had prevented them being together, but he had to check.

"Aye. Makes 'em both desperately ill," confirmed Moody.

"The Dark Lord requires me every full moon. If I don't go, he will kill me. If I leave Remus, he and I will both sicken and I have no doubt that our secret would be discovered sooner or later." Snape inhaled deeply and then continued. "It was Albus who asked Miss Tonks to stand in for me at the full moon to save both of our lives. Satisfied?" sneered Snape.

"What does 'e want of you at the full moon?"

"You don't need to know that," Snape clipped out. He'd be damned if he would tell this man that he had to let his blood out for the Dark Lord, and have Alastor Moody crow over Snape's just desserts for his teenaged folly.

Moody nodded slowly, as if thinking. "She doesn't know about you."

"I am aware of that. She does this for Remus."

"She thinks he was mated to Sirius."

"Neither of us told her that. It was David's mistake. She used to know about me ... about us. Albus Obliviated her to keep my cover."

"Did he now? Couldn't have a werewolf mate as a Death Eater?" Moody smirked.

"Exactly so," confirmed Snape, bitterly.

"Is Nymphadora mated to Remus too? She says she is."

Snape's stomach lurched.

"It is a temporary form of mating. She has not been Claimed as she was by David. She will be able to find another man when she wants." Snape heard the defensiveness in his voice, realising as he articulated the arrangement why Lupin had found it so very difficult to defend.

"Aye. Well there's the thing, isn't it? She thinks she's found who she wants. She wants Remus. And I don't like the idea that she's being strung along, y'see."

"Look, Moody. I don't care for any of this. Do you think I want Nymphadora Tonks anywhere near Remus when it's obvious she's fallen for him?" snarled Snape. "She's rebounding from her grief about David. I know that and so does Remus. But what can we do? You tell me how to deal with it, because I don't know!"

Both of Moody's eyes now bore into him, as if they could discern the truth if he looked hard enough. Finally, he stood, sounding as if it cost him a great deal of effort.

"I'll try ter talk to her," Moody said at last. "Can't say not ter love him. Nothin' makes a youngster love someone like tellin' 'em not to." Moody shook his grey hair, resting on his staff again. "How is he? Yer man?"

The enquiry and gentleness of it took Snape aback. He forgot that whilst he loathed Moody for the interrogations he had suffered before Dumbledore vouched for him, Moody and Lupin were friends. He knew if the werewolf in question had not been Lupin, Moody's reaction would have been very different indeed.

"It's hard for him, being with the urban werewolves," Snape said, holstering his wand.

"Aye. It was for him in the last war. Sometimes, I wonder what Albus is thinking of, sending the boy out to the wolves."

Snape's brow furrowed as could not interpret the look Moody gave him as he stepped into the Floo to return to Hogwarts once more.

oooOOOooo

Snape had turned over Moody's last remark in him mind. It wasn't just true for Lupin, was it? Surely, it was true of Malfoy as well.

The boy looked almost translucent he was so pale, with dark shadows under his eyes. Snape could see he was paying no real attention in Defence. When Snape asked him a question on wordless counter-cursing, Malfoy sneered, making some infuriating remark about no counter-curse needed for an _Avada Kedavra_ , making Crabbe and Goyle laugh gormlessly, although at least Nott had the decency to look astonished. Snape could barely believe his ears. He knew it was bravado borne of abject fear. He saw the tremor that now resided in Malfoy's young hands, but he deducted twenty points from Slytherin anyway. He couldn't let thinking like that go unremarked.

"And you'll stay when class has finished, Mr. Malfoy, to discuss that comment," said Snape silkily. "Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle, do you wish your detentions extended?"

Malfoy threw him a fierce look as his henchmen sulked.

As the class filed out, Snape moved swiftly to the door, ensuring Malfoy would not slip away from him once more. He saw the boy's eyes narrow as he spotted Snape by the door, and this time, he held back, knowing Snape would not let him escape.

Snape shut the door after the last student.

"Why do you draw attention to yourself like this?" said Snape, urgently. "You have a task to perform. What if another teacher should take exception and have you expelled? You must take care how you appear? Has your mother not spoken to you, Draco?"

"What if she has?" Draco hissed, his pale eyes glittering. "I know how you manipulate people! I've been warned. I can do this! I have a plan."

Snape made to offer his assistance again, but Mafoy cut across him, doing his best to replicate his father's sneer, but succeeding only in sounding panicked.

"I know you! If you can't have Malfoy blood, you'll steal our status!"

And with that, Malfoy opened the door and strode quickly away down the corridor, occasionally snatching looks behind him as if he expected Snape to follow after him and attack him. Snape stared after him, the viciousness of the attack stinging him and hopelessness of his task making his stomach turn.

"Foolish boy," he muttered as he watched the departing figure, wishing very much that he had that blasted map of Lupin's.

Perhaps, perhaps he could take a leaf from Lupin's book. When Lupin had described the spells he and the other Marauders had used to create that map, there had been a complicated Charm to track every inhabitant of the castle. It had taken them years to perfect and to work on the Castle and then onto the map, but perhaps Snape could work something similar.

After a couple of hours, Snape had perfected a version of the tracing spell that worked by applying runes to the entrance of Slytherin common room. Snape would be alerted whenever Draco left and if he did not return. It wasn't perfect but it was more than he had before.

oooOOOooo

When Dark Mark burnt that night, Snape had only just lost sight of Draco as he had got to the sixth floor. Snape had no idea where Draco was going from there, but he could see that Draco's step never faltered – Draco's Dark Mark had not burnt. Cursing the bad timing, Snape turned back to his quarters at once, collected his mask and robes and left to Disapparate at the boundary to Malfoy Manor, making his way as quickly as he could to the hall, feeling the Dark Lord's impatience and ... something else ... what was it? Yes, it was exhilaration that Snape could feel scorching through his skin and bone.

He strode purposefully to the hall, and found the Dark Lord waiting for him.

Alone.

Snape's heart's beat traitorously faster. No other Death Eater was in attendance, which meant that either Snape was to have a special mission, or special punishment. He steeled his nerves and Occluded deeply as he knelt before the Dark Lord.

"Ah, Severus. I have news of something that would be fitting for you to hear," the Dark Lord sang. Snape's flesh crawled that the Dark Lord had anything 'fitting' for him. The Dark Lord turned and called out to the door that led to the dungeon.

"Bring them now!"

Snape watched the door, trying not to hold his breath in case it was people he knew, members of the Order or others whom he would try to plan to save. He watched as three terrified men shuffled forward before the Dark Lord. They were dirty, scrawny, underfed and ragged. Greyback herded them before the Dark Lord like cattle.

"These are the ... men of whom you spoke, Greyback?" asked the Dark Lord, his voice high, clear and sneering in his description of them.

"Yes, my Lord," the filthy werewolf said gruffly and pushed them forward and, one by one, they fell to their knees grovelling, their terror etched in their features. "Calls themselves Jake, Uriah and Jude. They've defected to us, my Lord. Came to me with the information. Wants revenge, they do."

"Yes, revenge," said the Dark Lord, as if considering each man carefully. "We all understand revenge, don't we Severus?" the Dark Lord said smoothly.

The Dark Lord twisted around to Snape, his crimson eyes locking with Snape's own.

"There is someone I want, Severus. Someone who can give me what I need. You will make sure I get him this time, Severus, my most trusted and competent servant."

Snape bowed, wondering who had the lethal misfortune to have attracted the Dark Lord's attention.

"These men have given us valuable information, Severus. Information on a blood traitor who is ... if you can scarcely credit such a blasphemy ... the mate of a werewolf."

Snape's blood froze as his mind began to spin. Had he been discovered? No, he'd been too careful. Did he mean Tonks? It couldn't be. Neither of them was pure-blooded to be considered a blood traitor. Snape's wand worked to Snape's hand surreptitiously, expecting an attack from the Dark Lord or any of the men standing before the Dark Lord for the transgression of loving his mate as his mind tried to make sense of what he was hearing.

"I see you are as disturbed by it as I," the Dark Lord nodded, his white skin still stretched in an unpleasant leer. "Yes, I understand that after what I forced upon you with that ... beast."

Greyback frowned and snatched a glance at Snape at this but looked quickly away in case the Dark Lord saw his eyes raised from the floor.

"Greyback will get the mate. But you, Severus," the Dark Lord leant forward as he paused to watch Snape's reactions, "you will ensure he does not fail me this time." The Dark Lord glided away from the three trembling men and the seething Greyback to stand before Snape fully.

"Bring me the werewolf who has eluded me all these years, Severus. Bring me Idris."

 

* * *


	87. The Well-Laid Trap

Snape had to think fast. It was a Friday night and he could not make an excuse to get back to Hogwarts to advise Dumbledore of the plan and expect them to wait for him. As far as the Dark Lord was concerned, Dumbledore expected him to answer the call of the Dark Lord as Dumbledore's agent.

_But how to get a warning to Idris?_

As furiously as Snape was thinking, his exterior was calm and attentive. Greyback produced a map of Snowdonia as the three defectors attempted to locate the pack's encampment. Of course, they could not do so as the ancient Fidelius that resided in the Alpha's very soul prevented them even so much as indicating it on the map. But what they could tell the Dark Lord was information enough.

The Alpha had a second mate Claimed after the June full moon: a pure-blood wizard called Alf. This man was no werewolf.

"Miscegenation!" the Dark Lord sneered and hissed in disapproval, demanding more information on the wizard's lineage. The rangy werewolf called Jake confessed they knew nothing more than that Idris had brought this man into their encampment three months before the Claiming. This Alf was a qualified healer and had started teaching advanced spells to the cubs in the pack.

"And that itself will never do," the Dark Lord said dangerously as he stared at his wand playing through his fingers, Snape feeling the Dark Lord's anger mounting. "Continue."

Uriah then spoke, telling them that the protective enchantments around the pack's encampment were as ancient as its Fidelius and would shred anyone that tried to enter. They had rowed with Idris and been expelled from the pack. They would not be able to re-enter, let alone take anyone in with them.

"We could wait outside the wards for him," Greyback suggested.

"Nah. The perimeter's guarded all the time," Jake informed him, backing away from the larger werewolf. However, they did know a weakness that might be exploited. The Dark Lord, Snape and Greyback waited impatiently on the three vagabonds.

"He collects post from The Boar's Head Inn, see?" said Jude. "Gets hisself ingredients for medicines and has ... whas the word? Correspondence, that's it." He nodded self-importantly. "Correspondence with other wizards. No owl delivery to the camp, is there, see?" The three werewolves sniggered nervously and then stopped quickly under the Dark Lord's glare.

"Show me!" commanded the Dark Lord.

"'Ere," Jude said, triumphantly, pointing to the co-ordinates of The Boar's Head at the base of the mountain.

Greyback turned to the Dark Lord.

"I can snatch him there, my Lord."

The Dark Lord swivelled towards him.

"Yes, and these," he waved dismissively at the three traitors, "can be your snatchers." He turned sinuously to Snape. "You will go with them, Severus. You will make sure that our friends do not let their bestial nature overwhelm them and hurt the hostage. I want no repeat of the last mistake. Not this time." His head swivelled to Greyback and his crimson eyes flashed with anger. Greyback retreated a few steps, bowing.

Snape often had to think on his feet, and right now his mind was racing with all the balls he had to juggle.

Snape was desperately trying to think of a way to get the information out. There was no way a Patronus would go unnoticed as Snape stood there in the hall with maps out in front of them so they could make co-ordinates for their Apparition. Snape wasn't going to trust himself to one of these ragged werewolves in a side-along Apparition and he made no bones in telling them so, knowing the Dark Lord would sympathise with his lack of trust of the werewolves.

As he took careful measurements, his brain was in complete turmoil. A male mate? There had been no male mate when he and Lupin had been with the pack. No doubt, he and Lupin had wondered about Idris after seeing that photograph of Black's, but this was an extraordinary turn of events. How was it that Idris could have met someone, a wizard at that, for him to have mated? And what of Angharad? Something must have happened since. Idris knew the Dark Lord had returned so surely he would take precautions after what had happened to Bronwen.

The one thing Greyback hadn't asked the three traitors was a thing that would not cross his mind to ask. Greyback knew Lupin had been a thorn in his side to recruitment, but Snape was sure he was unaware of just how successful Lupin had been in guiding werewolves to Idris instead. He would not know just how many lone wolves and packs had joined forces with the Snowdon pack.

Snape reckoned on well over one hundred werewolves, ready and able to support their Alpha, not including those too young, old or infirm to fight. What Snape was now formulating was a plan to provoke them to fight: not a one-on-one, as before, but a pack fight that would inflict such grievous injuries on Greyback's pack that the Dark Lord would know Idris was unassailable. It was a gamble but if Snape could pull it off, it would be worth the risk.

Snape had to ensure that he led Greyback to the question in such a way Greyback would not think to worry about numbers so no suspicion would fall on Snape when they found out they were hopelessly outnumbered.

"Are we to be the advance party?" asked Snape.

"Whaddya mean?" Greyback said, affronted.

"Well, it's one thing to snatch a man, but once we have him, I think we can assume the whole pack will try to rescue him."

"Good point, Severus," the Dark Lord said. "Don't delay catching the Blood Traitor, but summon your pack to you, Greyback. I will have some of our friends of the north accompany them to make certain of the matter."

After an hour of further discussion, the party was ready to depart. Greyback went to summon his pack and Snape excused himself and, casting a silencing charm in the cloakroom, called to Lupin in the mirror, hoping he would not compromise him. Lupin answered, luckily alone at that time. Snape hurriedly told him everything that had passed in the hall and what the plan currently was. He saw the fear grow in Lupin's eyes that Snape would be in the company of Greyback, but calmed him as well as he could. After all, Snape was the Dark Lord's trusted envoy in this; Lupin had to have faith that it would keep him safe.

Eventually, Lupin had calmed down and promised he would get a message to Dumbledore and try to extract himself from his current situation and make his way to the pack directly.

"How can we keep in touch once you're with Greyback?" asked Lupin.

Snape thought quickly.

"I will charm the mirror to alert me if you call me, but I will have to cast a one-way charm on it, so you will not be seen or heard until I release it."

Snape performed the charm and then placed the mirror in the breast pocket of his waistcoat so he could feel any alert, knowing that it would be highly unlikely he would be able to answer it, certainly not whilst Greyback was nearby.

"Very good, Severus. Please," Lupin said earnestly. "Take care!"

oooOOOooo

Snape Apparated with precision at the base of the mountain. He breathed the air in deeply, his eyes flickering closed briefly, instantly recalling his times with Lupin both with the pack and at the farmhouse. He drew back to the cover of the forest, having spotted the inn not twenty feet away.

The three traitors followed, then Greyback and a low-rank wizard he believed to be called Scabior. Snape kept the sneer from his face. 'Snatchers' the Dark Lord had called them. It was certainly all they were good for.

Uriah pointed out the Apparition point that tended to be used for the inn and Scabior found a place just within the trees that had space enough for a Wizarding tent as a temporary base.

"Don't know as we wants to share with them," sneered Scabior to Snape, nodding towards the werewolves.

"And yet it is Greyback who wears Death Eater robes, Scabior, not you," Snape said dangerously, knowing Greyback would hear. "You want to watch yourself. Especially when his _friends_ arrive."

The wizard went back to finishing the tent, his face scarlet as Greyback turned to Snape and nodded. Snape nodded back. Let the brute think Snape sympathised with him. Snape knew somehow he would turn this mission into punishment for Greyback, if he possibly could, and Merlin knew, Snape was inventive. Snape cast the protective enchantments and set the rota for keeping watch, one of them with one of the traitors to identify this Alf: he would take first watch with Jude; Greyback with Jake; and Scabior with Uriah.

The first watches yielded nothing. The second of Snape's watches, except the sight of the delivery owls descending on the inn in the crisp, misty dawn, was the same. Snape had guessed his watch would coincide with the deliveries and had hoped this person, this Alf, would be prompt. Snape was disappointed. He had wanted to be the one to catch him, to try to get a message to him. Disconsolately, he let Greyback and Jake take over, but he did not close his eyes to sleep.

Then he heard it – the crack of Apparition. He jumped to his feet and ran to the tent opening in time to hear Greyback shout, " _STUPEFY!"_ and see a man fall to the ground. The werewolf named Jake was on him in a flash, kicking the fallen man in the stomach.

"STOP IT!" bellowed Snape at the same instant as he cast a hex that sent Jake flying. "You are not to hurt the hostage! You know the Dark Lord's command!" Snape reached the man. " _Mobilicorpus,"_ he cast and the body Levitated ahead of him, the head bowed and the long hair covering his face.

Snape took in the fine robes, delicately patterned, probably more expensive than anything Snape had ever owned. The tall, slim man's long black hair had grey wings and there was something familiar about him, although Snape had not yet seen his face.

Snape laid the man on one of the cots, as the three traitors sniffed around, like carrion feeders.

"Get them away, Greyback! They've served their purpose," Snape spat. "And him as well." Snape nodded at Scabior, openly eyeing the expensive clothes and boots.

Greyback marshalled them away from the cot as they muttered against him into another compartment as Snape cast for any injuries to the man's stomach. He found a cracked rib and repaired it and gave him a dose of internal injury potion. It was only as he spelled the potion into the man that he took a good look at his face.

Snape's eyes widened enormously and then narrowed as total confusion washed over him.

 _Alf. Alf. It couldn't be._ It would make sense though. After all, Snape knew the story: how this man had searched for Idris all those years. _But it couldn't be Alphard Black. He was dead. Long since dead. That's what Black had said._

But there in front of him was the spit and image of Sirius Black, but older. This information had to be kept from the Dark Lord and Bellatrix at all costs. Such a blood traitor prize! Bellatrix would split herself to get her hands on such a prize and to prove her devotion to the Dark Lord with cruelty perpetrated on a member of her own family. She would take pride in it.

After checking he was not observed, Snape opened a fold in the tent and cast a spell to create a commotion outside.

"Get out there, Greyback! Check there's no-one else! Make a thorough search!" he yelled.

As soon as the others had left the tent, Snape cast _Muffliato_ , just in case, and, wand pointed at Alf, he cast, _"Rennervate!"_

Groggily, Alf came awake and then cast a startled look at Snape and the wand pointed at him.

"Say nothing, do you hear me," hissed Snape.

Alf nodded, warily, backing away from Snape.

"Are you Alphard Black?" demanded Snape.

Alf nodded slowly, his slate eyes locking with Snape's. An odd, cold sensation crawled over Snape's skin at those familiar eyes, but he had no time to ask all the questions that were on the tip of his tongue. It was no time for morbid curiosity.

"Under no circumstances tell my companions who you are. The consequences for you will be painful and lethal. Whatever I tell you to do, you must do it, even if you complain about it. Your life depends on me now. You don't know me, but Idris does. He knows me as Seth Moore ..."

"I've heard of you ..." the man interrupted, his voice cultured and melodic.

"I said, say nothing," Snape hissed and then glanced quickly as he heard the men returning. He removed the spell and stood, his wand still pointed at Alphard.

"Oh. He's awake, is he? Who is he then, this lover-boy of Idris?" Greyback demanded, with a foul leer.

"I didn't ask and, frankly, we don't need to know." His eyes darted to Alphard briefly. "You will all keep your distance from him. He is a hostage," he turned his blackest stare on Greyback and then on each of the three traitors, "not a toy," and then to Scabior, "or a mugger's mark."

Snape Summoned a chair and sat next to the cot and crossed his long legs in front of him, his wand held across his lap as he took in the looks and grumbles of dissatisfaction from the others assembled. He cast a quick silencing charm on Alphard.

"And I don't need to hear anything from you either, unnatural blood traitor!" snarled Snape but he looked Alphard right in the eyes. "Lie down."

Alphard's eyes went wide with fear. Snape rolled his own eyes with exaggeration, hoping Alphard understood that Snape did not intend to harm him.

"Do it!" he barked.

Alphard lay on the cot, and Snape cast _Incarcerous_ , binding Alphard's wrists in front of him and his ankles together.

"I'd'a done it tighter," groused Greyback. "Or wi' manacles." He leered.

"Yes, I'm sure the Dark Lord would be delighted by the cuts and bruises of binding," sneered Snape. "He's not to be harmed. Why don't you people understand that?"

Greyback growled deep in his throat but Snape faced him down. The atmosphere in the tent became heavy but Greyback backed down. He knew where Snape stood in the Dark Lord's inner circle. Challenging Snape would be tantamount to dishonouring the Dark Lord. His anger now impotent, Greyback looked at the floor and grunted, his hairy knuckles whitened into fists.

"Good. We understand each other. Now. The message has to get to this Idris," Snape made a dismissive gesture as if this mere werewolf could be of no consequence to him. "How? Will one of you deliver it?" He looked to the three traitors. All three tried to make themselves smaller, cringing under his gaze.

"He'll kill me," croaked Jake. "If'n I go anywhere near the pack. He'll kill any of us."

"And what a pity that would be," retorted Snape, snidely. "Well. Who is it to be?" he snapped impatiently. "I'm not leaving our precious hostage in any of your hands, and whilst I'll happily take over when this Idris is out in the open, there's no way I'm going into a den of stinking beasts!" snarled Snape. "What about you? You're one of them."

Greyback growled again.

"There's history," he muttered, "between me and him."

"I know," said Snape, sounding as bored as possible. "You held his mate hostage and challenged him to single combat. He thrashed you and so you butchered her …"

As the onlookers' eyes widened and they shuffled nervously as Greyback lunged towards Snape, snarling, but a quick repelling jinx sent him flying unceremoniously backwards.

"Let's not even pretend you're a match for me, Greyback," Snape sneered and then straightened and looked at them all as Greyback scrabbled to get back on his feet. "The question is: is it to our advantage that you and he have this history? He won't trust you, that's for sure."

"I'll go," said Scabior, his chest thrusting out with idiotic, misplaced bravado.

Snape's eyebrow rose. He knew this low-ranking acolyte was desperate for the attention of the Dark Lord. _Why not? Why not indeed?_

"You," he snapped at Uriah. "You will take him to where you know there'll be a look-out placed. You two will keep them covered in case they're felled before they have a chance to deliver my ransom note. Is it likely they'll take you into the wards, or will Idris come to you?"

"Probably take them in," muttered Jake, his eyes darting between Scabior and Uriah. "After that, I don't know."

"What are the chances he'll exchange himself for his …" Greyback said, pointing at Alphard, " … that?"

On hearing this, the prone figure began to twist in his bonds, trying to protest, although no sound could be heard.

"Exchange? I would imagine none," said Snape lightly. "Nevertheless, it is what we'll ask for. We need to get Idris out of the wards, then we can trap him, but he must not be hurt. The Dark Lord has forbidden any harm to come to him. I expect it will come to a battle, so your reinforcements better be up to it."

"Against a bunch of mountain werewolves?" Greyback sneered. "My pack will easily overcome them. And with Dementors too, they ain't got no chance."

As Greyback bragged, Snape wondered whether Lupin had arrived to tell Idris the plan. So much depended on his being there to point Idris away from doing anything rash, for if he was anything like Lupin, his mate in danger would be like a red rag to a bull.

"These beasts are notoriously sentimental and weak about their mates, are they not, Greyback?" asked Snape, snidely.

The wolf-man grimaced, his sharp teeth visible. "It is a weakness of our kind. Others – wolves who want to be strong – take no mate."

"And scorn those that do, no doubt," Snape commented, dismissively, noting once again the discomfort of the three traitors. He suspected they would flee before this day was out.

"Ties. Bonds," sneered Greyback. "Those connections have those names for a reason. I just take what I need."

Snape nodded as if Greyback's statement were in some way sage, even though his skin crawled with revulsion, knowing exactly what Greyback's 'needs' entailed. Then he snapped his attention back to the group.

"So we try for a direct swap first. When that fails, as it so assuredly will, some judicious evidence of torture I am sure will bring Idris out, no doubt with his pack."

The wolf-man laughed chestily, and Scabior leered, but the three werewolves passed worried looks between each other.

"You said the queer wasn't to be harmed, but now ..."

"Oh, old Snape knows how never to leave a mark," Greyback chuckled unpleasantly, his eyes holding a glint of appreciation as he leered at the figure struggling on the cot. "Very controlled in his torture, is Snape."

Snape held up a hand in acknowledgement, as if arrogance personified. "I do what is needed to achieve the results required. I leave torture as a sport to others." Snape tilted his head towards Greyback, as if in deference. Scabior snorted like the ignorant fool he undoubtedly was.

"I'll write the note. You deliver it."

Snape pulled a pouch from his cloak and retrieved parchment and quill. He turned his back so the group did not see him write their location at the base of the parchment and then make it invisible with the charm he shared with Lupin. He folded it in a conspicuous manner that the reader would notice, and then wrote above it in words that were visible to all:

_Idris, alpha of the Snowdon pack._

_We have the wizard, Alf. If you want him to live, you will give yourself up to me at noon today._

_The Dark Lord commands it._

Then, Snape pointed his wand at Alphard, whose eyes widened as he continued to thrash against his bonds, as Snape cast a small cutting curse to Alphard's thumb and pressed the parchment to the blood.

"Your ... _mate_ ... will recognise your blood, I think," Snape said with an unkind smile but he healed the cut immediately with a small gesture unnoticed by the others.

Snape couldn't think of a note that would infuriate Idris more. _As it should be._

oooOOOooo

He had engineered it so that the four had left, two to deliver message and two to provide cover. Snape ordered the remaining werewolf to keep watch outside, for no other reason than to speak to Alphard on his own. He reckoned he had no more than fifteen minutes at the outside. He cast _Muffliato_ and then lifted the charm from Alphard.

"We need to be quick. There'll be little time," Snape said quickly. "The Dark Lord wants Idris as his wandmaker ..."

"Hasn't Riddle done enough to us?" Alphard snapped.

"There is always room for more cruelty in the Dark Lord, Alphard Black," Snape said quietly, regarding the man's face, still stunned by the family resemblance. "We are here by the Dark Lord's command and you are seen as Idris's weakness."

"Idris won't give himself up. He didn't before; he won't now," Alphard said proudly. "And I don't expect him to."

Snape regarded the man with interest: so alike in aspect to Sirius Black; so utterly different in bearing. This man held his head with pride, but no scorn. His expression was serious, but not belligerent. He had none of the impetuousness of Black, or the cruelty and madness of Bellatrix.

"I don't know why I'm surprised this tactic is being tried again," Snape eventually continued. "He sees no other way to get what he wants and, believe me, he wants your mate as his wandmaker."

"Do you know our story? How Idris was turned? How many years ago that was?"

"I do," confirmed Snape. "Before, it was to arm the werewolves loyal to him. Now, the Dark Lord needs a wandmaker because his wand fails him. It is now a very personal – ah – acquisition," said Snape, speaking quickly as he checked on Jude's whereabouts. "It is, of course, vital that he does not _acquire_ Idris. I must do all I can to look as if I wish to achieve it, whilst ensuring it fails."

"Why do you not name him?" Alphard whispered harshly.

Snape inhaled sharply, his eyes flicking to his Dark Mark. "He would know. He has a Taboo Curse in this brand I bear to give him knowledge of traitors."

Alphard leant forward to look but Snape snatched his arm away.

"No time. Now, listen. I have loosened your bonds. Your wand is in my left cloak pocket. I'm working blind to an extent but I hope I have got a message to Idris. They should be surrounding our position. At the first sign of attack, push me and take your wand. Then you must Disapparate. Do nothing else. Disapparate and get back behind the wards of the camp."

"What will you do then?" asked Alphard, his face attentive as he tried the flexibility of his bonds.

"You needn't concern yourself with that. Just get yourself back to Idris so he isn't handicapped."

"What do you mean: handicapped?" Alphard asked harshly.

"From fighting, of course. If you're held hostage, it will handicap him. If you're with him, he can lead properly. Idris and his pack need to fight and thrash Greyback once and for all, do you see?"

"Yes," Alphard nodded, then looked up sharply as the noise of the men returning, and lay back on the cot. "Good luck."

Only three men returned. Scabior had been taken into the wards at wandpoint and the rest told to leave or be killed. A messenger would be sent.

It would be a waiting game.

Snape could wait. He had waited so many years already. He sat back in the chair by the cot, his face expressionless, and waited.

oooOOOooo

It was another two hours before various cracks of Apparition were heard just outside his temporary wards. Snape didn't stir from his seat, knowing from Greyback's smirk that his pack had arrived. Snape counted the Apparitions. Thirty-three. His jaw worked not to smirk himself. Hopelessly outnumbered, just as he had hoped.

Then he felt it: the cold. The chill that could only come with Dementors and the feeling of desolation they brought with them, just by their proximity. He'd be damned if he sit here for hours thinking of the times he'd injured Lupin with the Thrall, or betrayed Lily and first heard of her death, or carved Lupin's mind, or ...

"Get them back," he snarled at Greyback. "We don't want them until Idris's pack is out of the wards."

"They can't hurt you," growled Greyback, indicating Snape's Dark Mark.

"Doesn't mean I want them anywhere near me until it's time, understood?" Snape barked back.

Grumbling, Greyback left the tent and Snape saw, from the corner of his eye, how pale Alphard had become. He heard Greyback bellowing orders at the Dementors and gradually the dread chill lifted and Snape felt he could breathe once more as he continued his vigil over the hostage, listening to Greyback grunting at his pack to fan out around the enchantments Snape had set.

Then there were shouts. Someone had come.

Snape leapt up, his wand pointing at Alphard as his finger pressed to his lips for silence at Alphard's questioning look.

Greyback came bustling through the tent, a werewolf held roughly by one arm. Snape recognised his face immediately. It was Pisser from the Whitby Werewolves carrying a white square of material. Alphard started forward.

"Stay put!" Snape barked at him, then he turned to Pisser. "Who are you?"

"I'm Idris's messenger, Botolph," the mean-faced man said, his voice trembling, although Snape could see he was trying to be brave. _Botolph? Since when?_ Times seemed to change fast in Idris's pack. He was guilty, Snape could tell. _But why?_ "He wants to talk terms with you."

Greyback sniggered. "Terms, is it? Terms for the return of lover-boy."

"That's quite enough," Snape snapped. "Where and when."

"In the inn, down there. Now."

Snape regarded the man through narrowed eyes. _That is not the plan. Shit. Where is Lupin?_ There was no way he was going to leave Alphard here with Greyback and his pack and he had no idea if Alphard would be able to Disapparate from inside the inn. He couldn't risk it.

"I can't leave the hostage," Snape stated. "The Dark Lord's order."

He heard Greyback grunt.

"You think I can't be trusted."

"I know you can't, _werewolf._ You have form," Snape said, his own lip curling. "I think the inn is dangerous. The clearing just outside the wards will do. Out in the open so everyone can see, and bring the hostage so I can keep an eye on him and Idris will see he's unharmed. Go back to your Alpha. Tell him that."

Botolph nodded quickly and almost ran from the tent to the raucous laughter of the werewolves outside.

"Come!" Snape grasped Alphard's upper arm and dragged him to his feet. "Keep quiet and do as you're told and you may yet make it back to your mate."

Alphard stared hard at Snape, and Snape knew he was completely confused. Snape pretended to tighten the bonds on Alphard's wrists.

"You go ahead of me, Greyback. Make sure your pack watches our backs."

Greyback grunted in acknowledgement and Snape pushed Alphard ahead with the tip of his wand, leaving the tent for the first time since Alphard had been brought here. Dozens of mean looking werewolves sat and stood around small fires to keep themselves warm on this bitter January day. Snape felt his mouth dry out at their proximity to him. It could all be over so quickly.

Snape walked to the edge of his wards and then through, watching around himself as he made his way to the centre of the clearing where Idris stood with Botolph, flanked by his eldest sons, Gareth and Geraint, their wands at the ready. Never had he seen the Alpha look so impressive – or so furious.

He saw the way Idris's eyes ran over Alphard then locked on Greyback.

Snape felt the hairs on his body rise.

They were being watched.

Suddenly, a hex out of nowhere knocked Snape to the forest floor and he felt a pair of hands grab his cloak and find and pull out the wand as he heard Greyback yell to his pack who began to run thunderously, shouting out curses as spells began to fly.

As soon as he heard the crack of Apparition that he hoped was Alphard, as he struggled to his feet, a large, strong arm lashed out and punched Snape in the throat. He bent double as he struggled for breath through the temporarily bruised windpipe. He fell heavily on all fours, his wand dropping by his side and he coughed as he re-gained his breath. But then, someone kicked him high and hard so he fell on his back, winded once more, the sounds of fighting crashing about him.

"He's got the evil brand!" someone shouted as they dragged up his sleeve. Still struggling for breath, Snape's hand, fingers stretched wide, searched for his wand, his brain racing to determine a plan for escape as he looked around himself to see Greyback and his pack held at bay by a group of Idris's werewolves, returning fire fiercely.

Then, he found himself straddled, his arms trapped by his sides, by a heavy man's knees and grabbed by his hair.

As his eyes re-focused, they took in the wand pointed at his heart, then focused on the man behind it whose dark eyes blazed with fury in a scarred and weathered face surrounded by shaggy white hair.

"And just how valuable will ye be to Tom Riddle, I wonder ..." the large Alpha growled, his gritted teeth showing as Idris leant in to snarl with a venom that made his blood freeze, " ... Severus Snape."

 

 

 

* * *


	88. Battle's Eve

It had all gone wrong, and Snape’s heart beat so violently, he felt sick and faint even as his very being screamed at him to fight for his life.

_Where is Remus? What has happened?_

The wild thoughts that Lupin hadn't made it to Idris and imagining what horrors might have befallen him were his terror far more than the palpable rage of the Alpha who now harshly bound Snape's wrists behind him and then pulled him roughly to his feet, his cruel fingers digging in Snape's upper arm with a pincer-like grip. The constriction of pain in his midriff from the kick and the bruising to his throat all just added to his terror, making his breathing almost impossible. He saw Idris's sons covering him with their wands from the corner of his eye.

Snape tried to take in what was going on around him, as he saw some of Idris's werewolves fighting with Greyback's. Greyback himself fought in a frenzy, sharp teeth bared as he slashed and shouted his curses. He knew his life depended on not failing the Dark Lord this time. Greyback had never understood that raw aggression counted for nothing in duelling, but Greyback's inadequacies gave Snape no solace. He had to master himself to get out this and find Lupin.

Then Idris stood straight and imposing, still gripping his prize.

"STAND DOWN!" Idris bellowed over the duelling. "STAND DOWN AND HEAR ME!"

"STOP!" barked Greyback, his hand raised in command, as he watched Idris through narrowed eyes. "STOP, I SAID, YOU SCUM!"

Slowly, the duelling werewolves ceased throwing curses and, wands still trained on their opponents, they moved away, each drawing their own battle lines.

"Now who has the hostage, Greyback?" bellowed Idris, his wand at Snape's throat. "What will yer precious Dark Lord think of this?"

Snape heard Greyback snarl and watched as Idris curled his lip in both triumph and disgust.

"Ye want him, Greyback? Yer pack against mine. Here. Tomorrow at noon."

With that ultimatum, Idris yanked Snape away and into the mass of his pack. Snape estimated thirty-odd werewolves with Idris, approximately matching Greyback's. Was that luck or judgement? They stood their ground until Greyback's werewolves moved away.

And still that same question raced through Snape's mind leading on to so many others, all of which as distressing as the last: what had gone wrong? Where was Lupin? Had he not made it to the camp? Had the London werewolves hurt him? Had the Death Eaters found him? Dear Merlin, was he hurt? The more he thought, the more distressed he became, as this large man hitched him along uncomfortably by his arm, scowling at him that he would pay dearly for his trespass. Snape barely heard it just trying to think through his fug of terror.

"The Dark Lord's torturer, is it?" the Alpha sneered at Snape, an ugly look marring his already deeply scarred face. "We'll see about that."

Suddenly, he pulled Snape into his arms in a painful bear-hug, and Snape was assailed by the man's strong smell, like a wild animal, and they Disapparated.

As they came out of the Apparition, Idris, still holding Snape's upper arms, pushed Snape away from his body as if his proximity burnt him. Snape felt the agony of his shoulder dislocating and bit back a scream. Idris grabbed the other arm and yanked him along, muttering vengeful promises under his breath at Snape, every step making his dislocated shoulder jar in agony.

Snape saw the werewolves of Idris's pack amassed by the ward perimeter, each at every one of them watching him with loathing, and he saw Geraint holding Scabior in an uncomfortable arm-lock, even as his twin held a wand to Scabior's throat. What they were muttering to him, Snape could not make out, but he saw the wizard's abject terror as he passed.

"Yer'll be a different wizard when ye return to yer precious Dark Lord ... if we return ye at all," rumbled Idris as they passed Scabior. Snape's panic wasn't even for himself. He was now so sure – so very sure – that Lupin was lost somehow. Lupin would never fail him – never leave him to the wolves like this. His stomach churned painfully in terror, but not for himself. He needed a minute, just a minute to try to find him – call in the mirror or call for Tippy – he desperately needed to know Lupin was safe.

All the while he was thinking, Idris marched him through the wards and through the camp, past jeering werewolves, young and old, one even pelted him with vegetable peelings. He didn't care. Everything: the pain in his shoulder – everything – his vows, the geas, everything had been wiped out by the blind terror that Lupin lay injured somewhere without help. Or worse. Snape suddenly found himself blinded by acid tears of terrified helplessness.

"Cryin', is it?" Idris snarled, cruelly. "Mightta known!"

Then Snape was pushed into another tent and flung on the floor at the feet of Alphard Black.

"Think your Dark Lord will save thee now, Snape?" growled Idris. "D'ye think I'm not ready to dirty my hands with 'ee? Lay hands on my mate an' yer'll pay the price."

Idris picked Snape up by his robe front and grasped his face painfully, his face a rictus of rage.

Then Snape heard him. Lupin's voice. His heart seized painfully.

"My prize, remember. We agreed. Snape owes me a debt. He pays my price first. You can have what's left."

Idris squeezed Snape's face hard again, still emanating fury, but he nodded and violently cast Snape on the floor once more.

Snape's mind was reeling in confusion: Lupin voice, but so hard, so full of hatred. From the corner of his eye, as he panted on the floor, he saw Idris cast a heavy silencing and sealing charm on the tent.

And then there was Lupin, kneeling next to him, his voice now warm and comforting him, his arms wrapping around him.

"Oh, my Severus. Thank Merlin you're here."

"Dear God, Remus! I thought you were dead!" Snape said hoarsely, his heart leaping as he fumbled his uninjured hand over Lupin's face, and then he swore as Lupin touched his shoulder.

"I pulled it out," said Idris, giving the group a sheepish smile. "Didn't expect 'im to be so distracted."

"What?" Lupin barked, and his wand was in his hand casting over Snape.

"Let me," said Alphard. "A healing spell for a healing spell, I think," he smiled warmly as he knelt next to the pair.

Now Idris barked the same question. Snape steadied himself as he looked at those around him, now looking on him with no malice at all.

All an act? He had not even suspected.

"I think," Alphard interceded, "we can say that everyone played their part well. I believe I felt a healing spell, is that right – erm – Seth? Severus?"

"We should stick to Seth, I think," said Lupin, his eyes never leaving Snape's face. "Severus is such an unusual name, if something slipped, his secret would be out."

"Seth it is, then." Alphard smiled again as he cast at Snape's shoulder. "I'm right that I felt a healing spell?"

"The runt, Jake, he kicked you when you were Stunned. I healed you."

"Well, I thank you." Alphard cast, and Snape felt the knitting warmth of the healing charm as Alphard deftly manoeuvred the dislocation back into place as smoothly as Poppy had ever done and so Snape's body eased from its tension of pain.

"Anything else needing attention?" Alphard passed Snape a pain reliever in a small phial, which Snape downed in greedy gulps, his hands still trembling.

"There'll be bruising, but it's best to leave it – 'my marks and scars I carry with me', shall we say," said Snape a little wildly, disconcerted to have been played as well as he normally played others, as Lupin helped him shakily to his feet. Now, he was seeing Lupin for himself, he felt the wash of adrenaline fading, leaving him unnerved and shaky.

"Ah. 'to be a witness for me that I have fought'," Alphard continued the quotation. "Pilgrim's Progress! Very good, I understand."

Snape nodded again, appreciative of Alphard's grasp of Muggle literature. He had thought all Blacks were ignorant of it. He suspected this man would surprise him. But that was for later. For now, all he wanted was to look at Lupin; to drink him in. As Snape stood, Lupin dropped his arms around his waist, leaning his head against Snape's.

"Thank heaven you're safe," Snape said, his voice uneven. "I thought … I feared ..."

"Shhh," Lupin said softly, planting a gentle kiss on Snape's nose. "I'm sorry. I couldn't let you allow Alf to escape and then go back to torture. I changed the plan. I'm sorry."

"Couldn't Idris have just let me know? Whispered a word?" murmured Snape, a flicker of anger now kindling.

"Surrounded by werewolves, Severus?" Lupin said sadly. "I'm so sorry, no. Your fear had to be genuine so they could smell it."

Of course, Snape understood now. It had only been a few hours, but it had felt like an eternity of torture. His anger died instantly as he nuzzled into Lupin's neck, reassured and comforted, the presence of the other three forgotten in his overwhelming relief.

"We'll still carry out your plan for Greyback to be thrashed, but you will engineer your own escape and that wizard. Who is he?" continued Lupin.

"His name's Scabior. He's no better than a jackal," replied Snape, listening, but more to the tone and cadence of Lupin's voice, savouring the feel of his arms around his waist and his breath on his face. "Remus, I was so scared. I thought those werewolves in London …"

"They nearly did," Lupin said, but held Snape closer when he started. "A couple of them saw the mirror. They wanted it. Bit of a tussle about it, but I got away and Angharad patched me up."

Snape drew away and stared at Lupin in horror, knowing he was underplaying whatever had happened in London, even though Lupin's mouth twitched upwards at the corners.

"My love, I'm fine. Don't look that way. We're here now." He kissed Snape's forehead and then pulled him into a full embrace. Snape felt the last of his terror drain from him as his whole body softened into the embrace, feeling as if he moulded himself to Lupin's body, drinking in his scent and basking in his warmth and the soft touches of Lupin's fingertips to his face. For this short time, nothing else mattered.

Eventually, it was Idris who broke the moment.

"You two. C'mon. We need ta plan."

Angharad went to fetch Idris's Betas and his sons. During that short absence, Snape saw Idris draw Alphard into his burly embrace and murmur words to him that Snape couldn't make out, but saw Alphard's smile welcome them and return the embrace. Within minutes, the others arrived and Idris told them that Snape was, in fact, Seth Moore and held them to silence on it. As soon as each man gave his pledge, Idris returned Snape's wand in full view of the small assembled group. Then, using a large piece of parchment laid out on Alphard's brewing table, Idris plotted out the surrounding area and Snape contributed the current positions of Greyback's pack.

Snape had never seen a werewolf pack fight before. He reasoned that they must be rare as feral werewolf packs rarely encroached on each other's territory. Idris and his lieutenants discussed various vantage and ambush points and tactics. Watch around the camp was doubled, and those werewolves capable of Disillusionment Charms were sent out in a group to scout the others' current whereabouts and take out as many look-outs silently before dawn as possible. If the opposition could be frightened by unexpected losses; all the better. This was no time for playing fair. Snape appreciated that sentiment – all too well.

Lupin told the group everything he knew of Greyback's tactics, and both he and Snape told them about their last fight with Greyback and his smaller pack, back when they had been with the Whitby Werewolves. Snape told them of Aidan, probably Greyback's best fighter, vicious and unscrupulous, who had killed Acastus when aiming the Killing Curse at Wallop, just as Greyback had killed Thad as carelessly as one would swat a fly. They also could identify Nero and Jared. It was resolved that these were clearly trusted lieutenants and should be disabled as quickly as possible.

They planned for hours, each lieutenant being assigned certain manoeuvres, to envelop Greyback's pack in a pincer movement leaving them only retreat. Snape expected Greyback to call on the Dementors to begin with to weaken Idris's pack. These had to be dispelled at the outset as that too would fatally weaken Greyback's pack's collective resolve. Finally, their planning meeting broke up, the lieutenants leaving to hold meetings with their own cohorts. Angharad left to fetch food and drinks, and was careful to re-set all the security charms on her return, when the five sat at Alphard's table with the stew and bread and golden mead.

"I can only stop a spell with 'ee," said Idris. "My place is with the pack on the eve o' battle." Snape and Lupin nodded, as both ate quickly, Snape having had nothing since the night before and he was sure Lupin was the same. Idris finished quickest of all and excused himself to join the pack around the winter fire on battle's eve.

Snape couldn't help but notice the way Lupin kept looking at Alphard as they ate. He wondered how much of a shock seeing the man who looked so like his friend had been. As if reading his mind, Lupin asked the question.

"Alf? May I ask? I thought ... well, Sirius told me you had died – years ago," said Lupin, as he wiped the last of his stew up with a piece of bread. If Alphard minded, he didn't show it but instead he smiled ruefully.

"I renounced my name - it's an old pure-blood ritual," he went on to explain at Lupin's perplexed expression, "relinquishing all ties with my family. I did it after Sirius and Bellatrix were imprisoned. I had had enough of my family's Dark ways, and what Sirius had done ... what we all _thought_ he had done ... was the final straw. As far as the family and the law were concerned, at that point I no longer existed as a Black. I left the country for good after that." He smiled wanly again. Just like Black, and yet not. There was a sadness to Alphard Black's smile, in his eyes, Snape thought.

Lupin turned to Snape. "Sirius used to talk of his Uncle Alphard all the time when we were young," explained Lupin and then looked again at Alphard. "I think you were the only one he ever spoke of without being angry," he said to the other man. "Well, you and Andromeda. He always liked Andromeda, too."

Snape listened to the tone of Lupin's voice, and heard the sorrow he tried to mask. The other man smiled, just as sorrowfully in Snape's opinion, and they began to swap stories of Black's rebellion against his family, with Alphard telling them stories of Sirius Black's juvenile insurrections. In seemingly no time at all, they were laughing together, although Snape could not possibly feel part of it – how could he? The accommodation he and Black had learnt to have with one another had been so very new when Bellatrix had sent him through the Veil. And Snape remembered all too well that Black's rebellion had included hexing as many Slytherins as he could, on principle – usually Snape himself. The odd thing was that all these years on, he thought he understood more of Black's pathology; his desperate need to be different from his kind. Not that he would ever forgive him, he supposed, but the analytical part of his mind was interested that not all pure-blood, entitled brats had been spoilt with love, the way Snape had always assumed. Except Potter of course, Snape thought sourly.

"It's good to see him talk of his nephew," Angharad whispered to Snape. "It hurt him so when he died."

"He knew he was innocent then?" asked Snape, recalling what he had said about renouncing his family.

"Aye, he found out when the Whitbys joined us, from a boy called David. It was confirmed by that Headmaster. That's how he found out where Idris was too. "

 _Dumbledore. Of course, it was. Who else?_ Snape thought, feeling a slight lurch of guilt at the mention of David, and then further thoughts struck him.

"That expensive advocate who cleared his nephew's name: did Alphard retain him?"

"Aye. The boy was still alive then and Alf wanted to clear his name." Angharad smiled. Snape found it very difficult not to respond to her smile. It was so warm and merry. She had an openness that reminded him sometimes of Lily – a desire to engage him – him: Severus Snape. Not many people harboured that desire, he knew. He smiled back, and warmed to his theme. It all now made so much sense. All these threads that seemed so odd before he knew of Alphard's existence.

"May I ask you a personal question, Angharad?" he asked softly, quickly checking Lupin and Alphard were still talking, although they would not have heard anyway as Alphard was regaling Lupin with the tale of Black turning the Black family motto on their crest on the china at a dinner party for like-minded Ministry officials to _Toujours Puke,_ and Lupin had tears rolling down his face in merriment. Snape adored the sight of Lupin laughing: it warmed him through. He wondered briefly what the terrible Walburga Black had done about that. Had she been like her portrait in reality, Snape suspected he did not really want to know.

"Aye, Seth," Angharad said, smiling too at the men laughing freely. Snape turned his attention back to her.

"When Alphard – Alf ... When Idris ..." stuttered Snape, then bit out the question he wanted. "How did you accept Idris taking another mate?"

Still smiling, but now a knowing smile, Angharad picked up his hand in hers.

"I was Idris's only mate these fourteen years. An Alpha can take another mate or more if'n he wants – it's our way. Idris never has. I thought all these years, he might put me out for someone younger. But he never did. Then one day, he walked through the camp with Alf – that Headmaster had arranged for them to meet." She squeezed Snape's hand. "As soon as I saw them together, I knew this man was special to Idris. Knew it. Smelt it. Felt it. Idris didn't do anything about him though, just introduced us and let us get to know each other." Her eyes left Snape and travelled to Alphard and Snape saw her smile soften. "It was months before Idris asked me for permission," she continued. "He didn't need to ask me. Not at all, but he did. He respected me. We arranged it, but then Alf's nephew was killed. Oh, Seth." She patted his hand. "It broke his heart, and it broke mine. He's my brother now. We look after our mate together."

Snape listened in wonder, no lurid or perverted thoughts assailed him about these three people. He knew in his heart that they loved each other as a family, not some seedy sexual arrangement, but a genuine relationship. He had seen how Idris looked at them both, and they looked at him. He was sure it should repulse him, but it didn't – not these people, anyway.

He couldn't share Lupin though. He would never share him, but he had an idea that this is where Dumbledore had come up with his plan. Even though it was now ruined and that was still something to work through, he couldn't help but wonder.

"Has the Headmaster been to see you?" he asked tentatively.

"Not me, but he saw Idris and Alf last summer. Needed to speak to Idris about wands and warn him that he-we-don't-name is interested in him." _Of course he did,_ Snape thought. _If anyone could second guess the Dark Lord, it's Dumbledore._ "He told them of your troubles, Seth."

Snape gawped. "My ... my troubles. What do you mean?"

Angharad rubbed his hand gently. "What ye do against he-we-don't-name, spyin' an' such, and that it keeps you from Remus Lupin at the full moon. Idris told him that a wolf must be with his mate at the moon – it's the way our curse works, see? To keep its potency." What his face was showing, he didn't know, but Angharad tucked his hair behind his ear gently to see him better. "Are ye three now, Seth?"

What to say to this woman who was so accepting? And then another realisation dawned on him to his horror: just who Tonks was to the man now talking to Lupin. He palmed his face with his free hand, not knowing what to say.

"No, not three. A friend of Remus's lets him mark her for the moon to keep us safe. They have not ... not mated." He looked at Angharad's open face. When would he ever have the chance to try to understand this from someone who truly knew? "It kills me not to be with him," he said quietly. "I don't think I can do what you can. It's too difficult for me – I ... I just cannot ..." he finished feebly.

"You cannot doubt Remus Lupin loves thee, surely, Seth? Is that it?" whispered Angharad earnestly.

It was too difficult to discuss – to articulate. He had never discussed how he felt about Lupin with anyone else. It was so precious to him, if he spoke it out loud, he was sure the magic would disappear. He couldn't risk it.

He shook his head, made mute by his own inadequacy. If Lupin had brought Tonks to them and waited for him to accept her as Idris had – well, he just couldn't. He wasn't a werewolf, accepting of the hierarchy of his Alpha. He knew Lupin mastered him in many ways – his temper, his passion, his terrible jealousy – and he adored that mastery, but only for him – for him alone, never to be shared.

Angharad sighed. "I understand, Seth. I do. It could so easily have been different for us." She inclined her head towards Alphard. "Imagine had I not taken to him, or thought Idris would put me out. Then it would have broken my heart." Holding his hand still, she squeezed it again.

At that moment, they heard singing. Just Conway at first, then joined by the other Whitby Werewolves. Rousing songs. Snape thought he recognised them as more and more werewolves joined in, and Angharad laughed.

"We should join them now, Alf," she said, as she squeezed Snape's shoulder, "and leave these two alone."

"I'll be in at dawn," warned Alphard. "Rounds for the patients and to ready for battle." He nodded at an alcove full of potions that Snape had not noticed before. And with that, both were gone and the charms re-set.

Lupin snaked his arm around Snape and they leant against each other, listening in silence to the rowdy, roaring singing outside for a while, Snape wondering if Lupin was contemplating the battle tomorrow.

"Hymns!" said Snape suddenly. "They're singing Muggle hymns."

"I think I heard a sea shanty earlier as well," Lupin laughed and gently pushed Snape up to look at him. "Tell me, Severus. Just what do you suppose Greyback makes of this singing?"

Snape smiled slowly, imagining the small pack by the forest listening to the lusty singing travelling across the night air, defiant, triumphant, masculine sounds! Lupin nodded.

"I don't imagine they'll be having a campfire sing-song!" smirked Snape. "I should dearly like to see their faces."

With that, they fell to talking as Lupin told Snape what he had seen in the camp as he waited. How they had hatched the new plan, and that when Scabior had come to the camp with Uriah, it was like a gift. Idris had snatched him into the camp and arranged it with his sons so that he should witness Snape's capture and his treatment. He was now bundled up under guard, believing Snape was being tortured by his one true nemesis: Remus Lupin.

Snape couldn't deny they'd executed their plot well. He himself had been terrified. He could only imagine what Scabior thought was going on in this tent after he'd seen Idris dislocate his arm and then throw Snape around like a doll. A part of him hoped he would never see that side of Idris in reality.

Lupin then told him how the Whitby Werewolves had now become part of Idris's pack, rather than a satellite pack. It reminded Snape of Pisser yesterday, and his new name. Did Lupin know?

"Yes, Idris demanded he be known by his given name, not by the name given to him by bullies." Lupin shrugged. "That name is Botolph. And Alphard did the same for Stacy."

"Wallop?" Snape remembered the large, hulking man.

"Yes. He's developed quite an attachment to Angharad, apparently," Lupin said, smiling hugely. "Anyway, Alphard told him his name is a short form of Eustace, and that it's a good name and now," Lupin shrugged again, "that's all he'll be known by. It seems they've found a home here after all, Severus. I wouldn't have dreamt it of such townies. Idris says that Stacy has a special talent that will be useful for battle and against the Dementors because he can't cast a Patronus, but he's keeping it quiet for now."

"Another talent apart from a fist like iron?" asked Snape, remembering how Stacy had felled a man with one almighty blow back in Whitby and wondering what else the seemingly damaged man might have. There were other ways to shield oneself from Dementors, but he would be surprised if Stacy were capable of them.

"Apparently so. He says it's quite shocking, but I can't believe that. Stacy may be lumbering, but his nature was always gentle when he was with the band."

Outside, the lusty singing that had reverberated in the crystal-cold January air had now died away, and they heard Idris giving the orders to pack up for the night. Snape felt a thrill of excitement run through him. He hadn't realised how much he had been waiting for this time – for what he really wanted.

He leant towards Lupin, catching his lips to kiss him. This kiss ignited him immediately, all the longing and reassurance he put away from himself through the long day suddenly crashed in on him. He wanted to be with Lupin – dear heaven, he needed him, to be filled and pushed to his limits by him, released by him – release all the tension of these past days in a frenzy of love-making. The more he thought of it as their tongues swirled around each others, the more his groin burned as their kissing became more passionate. Of course, Lupin knew. That damn sense of smell of his would tell him how Snape was feeling. Lupin's arms tightened around him and Snape knew his desire was understood and reciprocated.

They heard Idris calling for lights out and knew they would finally be undisturbed. Snape got up and checked Idris's wards still held on the tent and then strode over to Lupin, held out his hands and then led him to the bed, sitting on the edge of the bed as Lupin stood before him, his hands in Snape's hair, the only sounds now were their breathing becoming heavier and the rustling of the material of Lupin's clothes as Snape undressed him completely, aching for the sight of his beloved's body and the feel of it: the more that was revealed, the greater his desire to see and to feel it.

His stomach clenched hard as soon as Lupin was naked before him, and he pressed his hands and lips to Lupin's chest and stomach, listening for the hitches in Lupin's breath as Snape caressed Lupin's body, dropping onto his knees to do so.

The desire that overcame him as he pressed hard kisses to Lupin's hips was so overwhelming that he could not seem to touch or hold Lupin enough, knowing that in the large roundhouse next to them, the werewolf couples would be coupling too. Snape had no idea if he was imagining it, but his sudden lust was heady, hefty and insistent, just as it had been when they had joined the werewolf rut.

As Lupin encouraged him with caresses to his hair and throaty noises, Snape almost whimpered as his mouth and tongue found the tip of Lupin's cock and teased it with his teeth and tongue to a deep moan from Lupin that drove on Snape's desire as he swirled his tongue down and up Lupin's erection, feeling the clenching of Lupin's body in his grasping hands and his name streaming from Lupin's lips as he took Lupin in his mouth inch by delicious inch.

Then Lupin pushed Snape back and onto the bed gently, leaning over him remove his robe and then to unwind his cravat and then to draw off his shirt, but then drew in a sharp breath.

"Oh Severus," whispered Lupin, taking in the dark, lowering bruises on Snape's shoulder, his upper arms, throat and midriff. "Please let me heal them."

"They're my proof, Remus," Snape said gently, reaching out to bring Lupin closer to him to kiss him hard, even though his face also carried painful fingertip bruises from Idris's grasp. He wanted Lupin, and he didn't care about anything else. "Leave them."

"Let me get the bruise balm. I can do a Glamour of bruises when you leave to replicate them ..." Lupin said, pulling away to get up, but Snape grabbed his wrist and pulled him back.

"When I present myself to the Dark Lord, my injuries must be real, Remus."

"But we've done this before ..." said Lupin, a pleading edge to his voice.

"With memories, Remus, memories. The Dark Lord will see through a Glamour in front of him immediately. They must be real."

"I wanted to save you from injury," said Lupin sadly, his eyes now shining. "I failed."

"These are just bruises, Remus. It is nothing like what the Dark Lord would have done to me. You know this," said Snape, his tone insistent. "You of all people know this." He was sure that Lupin remembered, just as Snape did at that point, how he had healed Snape that night of the Dark Lord's return: Cruciatus, Legilimency and Snape's own Cutting Curse. Yes, so much worse than bruises.

Lupin's eyes still shone and his jaw worked, and he traced a gentle finger across Snape's bruised face. The fingertip left a trail of fire on Snape's skin and he pulled Lupin back onto himself and stopped his objections with a passionate kiss. The feel of lips and tongue and skins were what he wanted now, nipping and slipping his tongue along Lupin's lips before greedily kissing him, holding his head firmly with both hands, his desire – his assent – plain. He heard the deep, throaty noise of Lupin's re-kindled excitement and released his hair so his hands could clutch Lupin's bare back, his desire now rapacious.

"Remus, please!" whispered Snape hoarsely, moving his hips against Lupin's own. "I don't want to wait anymore."

Snape knew Lupin could never resist him, not when he called his name, and his eyes fluttered back as Lupin growled deep within his throat as he began to kiss and suck at Snape's throat, as he worked off Snape's trousers and ground their hips and erections together, and making him whimper as he found the bite – the bite that made him weak with hot, hard desire, even more so here in the werewolf camp. Then Lupin's tongue and lips found the bites on his chest, making Snape cry out at the sensations he hadn't felt for such a long time from the magical wounds, as Lupin's fingers played across his nipples and down his body, trailing across and around the bite below his flat stomach making Snape arch violently and cry out as shards of magically enhanced delight pierced through him with each touch of fingers and tongue. Then, when those fingers found their way inside him, the thumb caressing the bite above, Snape thought he would split wide with ecstasy, his whole body alight, his mind gone as Lupin's name spilled from his lips, needing fulfilment.

Strong hands then held him bodily and Snape scrambled onto his hands and knees, his body trembling at a pitch of fevered excitement, wanting Lupin inside him as deeply as possible. Only that would satisfy him now. Lupin lined up behind him, adoring words, huskily spoken as he kissed up Snape's spine, and then placed Snape's hands on the bedstead as he kissed the side of Snape's face. Lupin's head nuzzled against Snape's neck and Snape felt the head of his erection at his opening, tantalising him. He groaned with the intense fire in his groin, then Lupin found the bite and bit as he thrust in and Snape cried out loudly. It felt like a red hot brand of sheer ecstasy, knifing through him and he was lost to it then – he and Lupin moving together in deep hard thrusts, as Snape grappled at the bedstead to anchor himself, to feel Lupin as deeply as he could, seeming to fill him to his core with fire that consumed him anew with each searching thrust, as they moved harshly against each other, Lupin holding him even as he pumped Snape's straining erection in time, calling the other's name over and over, their pleasures heightening and brightening, slowly and inexorably building until Snape's incandescent orgasm flared and Snape shouted out as he came fiercely, as Lupin emptied into him with a hoarse cry, and clutched Snape to himself as they both trembled under the ferocity of it, even as their ecstasy ebbed away.

Both still panting for breath, Lupin steadied Snape in his arms and lowered them both onto the bed, cradling Snape as their breathing eventually regulated, then they kissed gently, sated and fulfilled in each other, their bodies softening together.

Even away from the others, Snape knew their love-making had been intensified by being in the pack, the wanton sexual scents on the atmosphere, and even that it was also the eve of battle, with expectation and adrenaline running high.

"I want to fight by your side," said Snape, the profound ache in his body pulling like a magnet to be with his mate. "You can transfigure me, then I can."

"It's too dangerous. If the spell were to be lifted – dear Merlin, Severus - imagine what they'd do to you!" whispered Lupin in horror, his hands still pressing Snape to himself.

"I won't stand by and watch you fight!" hissed Snape, raising himself on one elbow to glare at Lupin. "No more than you would stand by."

Lupin matched his glare, his own protectiveness so beautifully evident, but frustrating just the same. Snape's black eyes burnt with passion and fervour, and he saw it reflected in his husband's eyes as Lupin breathed deeply, his nostrils delicately flaring with each breath.

"The plan was for you to fake your escape with Scabior as we fight. You know that makes sense, Severus!"

"I want to see it through! I need to know the battle's won – no nasty surprises when I report back to the Dark Lord, with all my injuries!" insisted Snape, just a firmly. "Knowing the outcome before I prostrate myself before him makes more sense, I assure you. I need to know what are the casualties, make sure no captives are taken ..." He inhaled hugely and then cupped Lupin's face with his hand. "I need to know you're safe before I leave."

Lupin's expression softened and he leant into Snape's palm and turned to kiss it. Then Lupin nodded.

"Very well. We'll find a way," conceded Lupin, pressing Snape back to bed, and running his hand along Snape's body. "But perhaps in a more Slytherin way."

 

* * *

**Next chapter: The Battle of Cadr Idris**

" _My marks and scars, I carry with me, to be a witness for me that I have fought his battles."  
_ Spoken by Valiant-For-Truth in 'The Pilgrim's Progress' by John Bunyan.

 


	89. The Battle of Cadr Idris

Snape went from deepest, contented slumber, his arms and legs tangled around Lupin's limbs, to startled wakefulness when he realised someone was moving around nearby. His eyes flew open and he groped for his wand before he realised that a partition screen had been Conjured to cover the bed from view.

Alphard. Yes, that's who it had to be. He had warned them he would be in at dawn. Snape blinked heavily a couple of times and then looked at Lupin and the steady rise and fall of his chest and deep breaths showing he still slept deeply. Snape stroked the side of Lupin's face softly with a small smile. Lupin murmured and moved into the hand, but continued to sleep as Snape heard the small clinking sounds of phials being sorted. Curiosity won Snape over and he found his trousers and shirt on the floor and quickly dressed, watching Lupin sleep as he did so and how the counterpane just draped over the crest of Lupin's pelvic bone revealing the trail of hair from his navel downwards (remarkably attractively, in Snape's opinion – _damn Alphard for being there_ ), and then Snape moved out from behind the screen.

Alphard saw him and smiled.

"Did I wake you? I'm sorry. Not as quiet as I thought," Alphard said, amiably.

Snape saw Alphard had gathered a number of potions and balms and was collating his patients' notes, just as if he were engaged at St. Mungo's.

"No matter," said Snape. "You did warn us. I thought I'd see what you do."

Alphard told Snape what potions he was using and the ailments for which they would be applied. He passed a heavy crystal jar to Snape.

"I've been working on this balm to assist the transformation wounds. We don't see so many of these as most of the pack runs free at the full moon but our elderly wolves can suffer badly from this as well as age."

Snape's personal and professional interest was piqued now: a balm specifically for werewolf injury. He opened the jar, cupping his hands over it so he could smell it before looking at the texture and then taking a dab with his finger. He rolled up the sleeve of his shirt.

"Not only is there the Dittany base of the usual healing balms, with added Essence of Murtlap, I've been working on an incantation to help with the curse element of the wounds to try to lessen the scarring. I'm a proficient Spell-Worker, but not the best." He seemed to be eyeing Snape knowingly. "It would certainly help if I had a Master-Caster to help me."

Snape rubbed a small amount of the balm into one of the livid fingertip bruises on his upper arm, turning over what Alphard was saying in his mind, keeping his expression blank.

"What makes you think I can Work Spells?" Snape asked, keeping his tone even, as he watched the livid mark recede remarkably quickly.

"Oh," said Alphard softly. "Anyone who can trap a curse of the malignancy I saw in Dumbledore must be a Master-Caster. I've never seen a counter-curse of such strength and complexity." Snape watched Alphard carefully – as carefully as Alphard had clearly been watching him. So Dumbledore had told him this too? If Dumbledore had entrusted so much information to Alphard Black and Idris, perhaps it was all to the good. "And I think, Seth, you probably know that I come from a family steeped in Dark spell-work to recognise the skill."

Snape nodded curtly. He had invented such spells as would certainly be at home in the Dark books housed in the library of the House of Black, most certainly. The older he became, the less proud he was. At least, his Dark knowledge could now be used to counter the Dark magic he used to revere so greatly. He fingered a scroll Alphard had pushed towards him, covered in Runic workings and Arithmetical calculations, with different permutations of Latin castings worked and re-worked. Everything this man was doing, Snape wanted to do. Just a brief glimpse of Alphard's attempts at Spell-Working fired his imagination.

Snape regarded Alphard for a moment, his innate reserve in working alone challenged by this opportunity.

"It's true that I have invented many spells; many of them Dark. I have, I am sorry to say, an affinity for Dark spells, creating them and now defeating them – if I can. Perhaps, I can copy over your spell-work so far and look at it. Remus is very gifted at Arithmancy too. He could help." Snape didn't rule out asking Dumbledore. After all, it was he who broke the Thrall.

"I couldn't help but notice your scars," said Alphard mildly, indicating Snape's abdomen. "I hope you don't mind my saying but it's clear they are also cursed scars. How did it happen?"

Snape was momentarily confused, but then he recalled the gouge scars across his midriff that Alphard must have seen before he screened them both off. Any embarrassment he may have felt at having been so displayed quickly extinguished itself with what Alphard seemed to be implying.

"No, not a spell," Snape admitted. "It was Remus - a wound received at the full moon." Alphard's eyes went wide and Snape hurried to continue. "I had rescued Remus from the Dark Lord but he'd been under the Cruciatus and had had no Wolfsbane. Even though he marked me before he transformed, his wolf did not recognise me at first and attacked me. I passed out, but when I came to, the wolf had healed the gouges as you saw them."

Alphard seemed transfixed by the tale and held Snape's gaze for what seemed an inordinately long time, then a fire seemed to light his eyes.

"But this is extraordinary, Seth!" Alphard said, clearly excited. "Although you weren't bitten, the wolf's saliva was delivered directly into the wounds to heal you! You should have been infected!" Alphard swivelled to his desk and grabbed quill and parchment and insisted Snape sit down and tell him the story again. It had never occurred to Snape, but, of course, Alphard was quite right: it was the saliva of the transformed werewolf that carried the Lycanthropic curse. He watched Alphard scribble the details down, Snape himself now quite excited as he wondered how it was that the only Lycanthropy he had was the Claim itself.

"I wonder..." he ventured, one of his leaps for which he had achieved such potions success occurring to him now, "I wonder if the Claiming beforehand works like a Muggle inoculation." He breathed in deeply with the thought and shuffled forward on his chair towards Alphard, stabbing the table for emphasis with his finger. "How else can it be explained?"

Alphard's brow furrowed even as he shifted excitedly in his chair. "An inoculation against Lycanthropy? It might be an avenue to research. We don't tend to look at curses the way Muggles look at their illnesses, so convinced are we that curses have no physical pathology to be tracked." He grinned at Snape. "Even this short conversation convinces me I'm right to ask you to collaborate with me."

"With the Spell-Working?"

"No, no. More than that! More than that!" Alphard began to pull other scrolls and scraps towards him. "This is what I've been working on," he said, unrolling one particular scroll. "Dear Merlin, it nearly got me killed," he said breathlessly, "and countless others, if you hadn't been on our side." Snape felt Alphard's appraising gaze.

"I left the camp to pick up a new ingredient for this." Alphard shook his head. "It was beyond careless," he whispered in self-criticism. "I was experimenting with a potion to help the older werewolves. They have no energy or pliability to transform safely. It's all well and good to perfect the balm to treat the injuries, but I want to _prevent_ as many as I can. I've been modifying a potion of my own making and I'm making inroads, but they're slow. I wanted to try a new ingredient that might assist."

Snape moved to look at the research notes more closely – so like his own research – how could he possibly resist?

"I have been trying to work on similar research to ease Remus's transformations as he gets older. May I see what you have?" he asked formally, suddenly wondering if some form of professional rivalry would prevail over their extraordinary similarity of circumstance.

"Of course!" said Alphard, seemingly delighted. "Of course! Dumbledore's Potions master! Who could ask for more?" Dumbledore really had told them everything, it seemed, and it still unnerved him that Dumbledore had taken such a risk. Snape spread the scroll carefully and then smiled a tight appreciative smile at the coherent layout and cross-referencing.

Snape's expert eyes scanned the method and the ingredients, immediately seeing some miscalculations in its early states, but seeing also that Alphard had worked them through, noting meticulously all effects in minute detail. Utterly engrossed, Snape leant forward in his chair, his mind turning over. Alphard was actually further along than he was. Of course, he had a huge pack to observe, all different ages and degrees of damage. He shifted as he carried on reading. The researches were good, but he could add more. Oh yes.

"So, you're looking at a South American solanacae base ... nightshade?"

"Yes! I think it's a vegetable base that can be tolerated by the werewolf palette and can handle the antipyretic qualities of the willow bark without destroying it, and transfer it better, but also, with aggregation, it will add pliancy to the joints of patients, making the transformation more like those of a younger werewolf." Alphard was almost tripping over his words in excitement.

"Yes, I see." He followed the compounds, considering their interactions with each. "Of course, you would need to reduce honey and also the goat spleen in equal proportions and possibly extend the brewing time or you won't be able to stabilise the nightshade base properly."

He looked up quickly, expecting to see disgruntlement at such an interference but saw instead the delight of a mutually beneficial project.

"Do you know, before this happened, I had only been thinking that I wish I had a way to contact you. I'm not an Apothecary, although I'm a good brewer ..."

"... I should say you are to have got this far ..."

"But I know my limitations, Seth. But with your expertise, we could crack this!" exclaimed Alphard, slapping one fist into the palm of his other hand excitedly. "We could! What do you say? Will you work with me? Collaborate? We could exchange notes by owl ..." Alphard raised his eyebrows, his eyes alight. Well, they did have a shared purpose, didn't they? Did two wizards ever have such an unusual, shared purpose as they?

Snape stared at all of Alphard's meticulous notes, his fingertips fairly itching to have copies of them.

"Yes," he resolved firmly. "Yes, I will, Alphard."

"Marvellous!" Alphard cried then they both turned quickly to hear Lupin's muffled snore as he must have shuffled in the bed.

"Well, I have to do my rounds now. You look through these. Copy whatever you want – there's plenty of parchment." Alphard hefted a satchel full of balms and medicines. "When I get back, I'm afraid we'll have to wake Sleeping Beauty. Breakfast, then I dare say I'll need to plan for some kind of field hospital." Alphard's expression had become serious once more. He smiled briefly and then left the tent.

A research partner. He hadn't done any research with a partner since Lily, over twenty years ago. The prospect frightened and fascinated him all at once. As he flicked through the sheaths of parchment, he could see that Alphard had a clear focus and excellent medical understanding. In the book shelves by the desks were more books on werewolves than he had ever known existed, in many languages, as well as medical texts. He noticed a compartment off the main portion of the tent – separate and vented for brewing.

 _Extraordinary_ , Snape thought, _how there are such disparate people in the world who yet have so much in common, and Fate can conspire to bring us together._ _Could this be the end of Remus's suffering?_ His chest swelled with happiness that together they might bring this about.

Then he heard Lupin call his name, his voice still sleep-deep and deliciously hoarse.

Snape returned to the main part of the tent and looked behind the screen to see Lupin still only just covered by the counterpane.

"Come back to bed. Just for an hour," Lupin said softly, holding his hand out. Snape took it and sat on the edge of the bed. He traced his hand lightly over that attractive crest of Lupin's hip towards his navel and downwards.

As if he would ever say no.

oooOOOooo

By the time Angharad joined them in the tent bringing breakfast for them a couple of hours after sunrise, both Snape and Lupin were up and dressed. Lupin was helping Snape cast copying charms over Alphard's research notes to be sent on later by owl for safety's sake and Snape was explaining the nature of their joint undertaking, much to Lupin's excitement.

Alphard returned at the same time with news that seven of Greyback's werewolves had been captured trying to scout out the encampment in the early hours, and were now bound and gagged with Scabior in a heavily warded tent. As Alphard relayed the news and Angharad set down porridge, bread and a pot of tea before them, Idris strode through with his sons.

"Aye, it woulda been good news, but now they have reinforcements," growled Idris.

"What? Who?" demanded Snape.

"Six wizards, one a witch," Geraint supplied. "Apparated in at dawn."

"Describe them as best you can," demanded Snape, and listened intently as Geraint described the wizards. They were of no consequence: most of the dangerous Death Eaters were still incarcerated in Azkaban after the Department of Mysteries fiasco, but the witch ... was clearly none other than Bellatrix. And that was bad news but not the worst.

"They're no more than decent fighters, any of them," said Snape. "But the witch - she is powerful and skilful, but it isn't enough. They think they've stolen a march on you, but they're still woefully short of wand-power. I don't think I need to remind you that these wizards, as well as the werewolves you're about to face, think nothing of casting a Killing Curse, or a Torture Curse. Give them no quarter. Kill if you have to."

"If'n I have to?" Idris repeated, with a snort of laughter. "I'll be hard-pressed _not_ to."

Snape turned to Alphard. "Do you know who the witch is?"

"I think I can take an educated guess," replied Alphard quietly, his face already paling. "My niece, Bella."

Snape nodded abruptly. "It's probably best you stay here to run the field hospital," he suggested.

"No! I will fight with the pack. It's my family now," responded Alphard, his jaw set, suddenly looking very much like his nephew. And there was the point – that blasted family resemblance!

"You should reconsider ..."

"And will you?" interjected Lupin quickly. Snape scowled and left the table for his robe.

"If you insist on fighting then drink this before battle." Snape produced a miniature flask from his cloak and enlarged it and then passed it to Alphard. "And I will do the same."

"What's this?" Alphard wrinkled his nose as he smelt the brew. "Polyjuice? But why?"

"So you cannot be identified," said Snape impatiently. "Bellatrix will surely recognise you if she sees you. I promise you, if the Dark Lord or any of his Death Eaters find out that Alphard Black is the mate of a werewolf then he himself will come for you! You would be quite the prize," said Snape unpleasantly, deliberately provocatively. "Then this battle will all have been in vain. We want him to think this pack is too much trouble and not look to this mountain again. A blood traitor of your stature will be more than he can resist. He will want to make an example of you."

"Why you ..." Idris started forward, his fists clenched, clearly offended by Snape's tone.

"No, Idris! He's right," Alphard said quickly, interposing himself in front of Idris. "He's only saying what _they_ will think, that's all."

Idris's glare narrowed as he looked at Alphard, and then stood away.

"I thought ..." Idris muttered.

"I know," said Alphard softly. "Seth is just trying to make me understand what we face." He turned to Snape. "And I do." He nodded at Snape. "I do now. Polyjuice lasts an hour. Is that long enough?"

"This is an enhanced version," said Snape. "It will last approximately three hours."

"Another of your designs?" asked Alphard.

"No. This one was taken from a Death Eater's stock. I deconstructed it for the ingredients. Took me several brews to get the method right though."

"Crouch?" asked Lupin.

Snape nodded. "He was in no state for me to question once Fudge had sent that Dementor in."

Lupin shuddered and cupped his hand over Snape's. Snape didn't withdraw his hand, surprising himself that he didn't. What a remarkable place he found himself in here: discussing spell creation and werewolf balms and potions and battle tactics with the man he loved at his side, and revelling in the delight of open affection. Would he even have credited such a scenario four years ago? He gave Lupin a small smile, his thumb stroking the hand over his own.

"So, some hairs for the potion," Snape said finally, "from someone healthy, agile and quick, if you please." Snape saw a crooked smile on Lupin's face: the smile that implied 'prank'. "And male."

Lupin snorted.

oooOOOooo

By 11 in the morning, all those able to fight were assembled in the clearing of the roundhouse. The atmosphere of adrenaline was palpable. Snape could swear he could smell the werewolf testosterone in the air, heavy and pungent.

Fifty werewolves under the leadership of Idris's five adult sons were sent out in groups to surround the battle clearing in a pincer movement, leaving a small exit for any of Greyback's cohort who might be unable to Disapparate to escape when the time came. The fifty had the advantage of knowing the landscape well, whereas Greyback's pack knew little other than what Jake and the other two traitors could tell them. The great, ancient trees of the forest would give them cover, and their familiarity with it would give them the silence and stealth to stalk their prey.

Snape was Polyjuiced into a young werewolf, the original of whom had set out with Geraint's group and Alphard into a middle-aged werewolf who, likewise, had set out with another of Idris's sons, Medwyn. The young werewolf was taller and stockier than Snape and he felt the body to be unwieldy. He spent the time waiting practising duelling stances and transitions to try to get used to the feel of the body much less lithe but stronger than his own, as Lupin parried his practice spells.

Stacy was at Idris's side in a cloak, which had surprised Snape, but Idris assured him that Stacy would be instrumental to their success. He did not explain why Stacy alone wore a cumbersome cloak in which it would be impossible to fight.

"Just be prepared, Seth. Be prepared," Idris rumbled cryptically.

"I expect the Death Eaters will call down the Dementors as soon as they believe the pack is out of your protective enchantments," Lupin said.

"We learnt our lessons from you well, Remus Lupin," Angharad said, as she instructed the six younger werewolves who were to help care for the injured and to be stretcher-bearers, who would follow the main pack.

"Well, here's another," said Lupin, loudly enough for all to hear. "The ones you go to face will use any spell, no matter how Dark. You must not think they will not stoop to the Killing Curse or the Torture Curse, because they will." The gathered werewolves began to mutter under their breath. "Dodge! Dive! Feint! Do not let them have a clear shot at you. These werewolves have no honour of the pack fight. Leave the witch to us!"

"Hear him!" Idris scowled.

Idris stood now at the centre of the clearing, and Snape could see a tremor in his wand-hand, undoubtedly the adrenaline starting to surge by the look of granite about his face.

"The werewolves we go to fight may look like our kind!" snarled Idris, catching everyone's attention with his bass voice carrying across the clearing. Silence fell. Heavy silence, laden with tension.

"They may smell like our kind!" Idris declaimed, turning slowly to look at the remaining fighters, male and female, young and old, all looking to him to lead them, but with fire in their eyes.

"But don't ye be mistaken!" he growled menacingly. "These are not our kind!"

He turned again, his dark eyes aflame, his mighty hands clenched. Even Snape found himself drawn in to the pack mentality, his blood now starting to pound in his veins as his body readied itself for the fray.

"These are the worst of us! They will fight like cowards with Killin' Curses an' trickery. These are the reason we have to live in these mountains! Why we are despised! These are the beasts that give us that name!" Idris roared.

The werewolves had gone from the twitches of accumulating adrenaline to shouts of angry assent now, some shaking their fists and brandishing glinting knives as well as wands.

Idris's eyes narrowed and his voice became low, reverberating in its depth.

"They will rape your mates and defile your cubs!"

Angry shouts and violent protestations met this last, all the pack knowing what had befallen Bronwen at Greyback's hands. Snape felt the surge of fury of the pack around him, powerfully righteous and incandescent.

"Scavengers and jackals, all! An' we surrender to no jackals!"

The pack's roar of assent went up and Idris strode out as the pack ranged out about him.

"MOVE OUT!"

With the knowledge that fifty werewolves were already surrounding Greyback's pack, albeit at a distance, the pack moved out confidently, leaving a band of twenty behind to patrol the perimeter to keep those too infirm or young to fight secure.

At first, Snape wondered why they hadn't Apparated directly to the battle clearing, but he soon came to understand that the march of the werewolves around the mountainside in the sharp, astringent air cleared the senses – focused them. The roaring rabble was marched into a highly-focused fighting force by the time the clearing came in sight and, no doubt, the sound of so many on the march would help to undermine the confidence of Greyback's pack.

As the clearing came into view, Snape saw Greyback and his pack standing there, with the six wizards, lower ranked, and Bellatrix. He saw them squinting and covering their eyes. Oh, clever Idris and his mountain knowledge as the low, mid-winter sun blinded the opposing band so they couldn't make out the true numbers ranging against them until it was too late.

Then he felt it, and could see the others did too, the unnatural chill as a mist descended and the previously bright mid-winter day darkened and the mountain clouds lowered. In his mind were the pleading eyes of Lupin, bound at his feet, as he cut savagely into his mind ...

The Dementors were gliding down from the skies towards them.

"Hold your positions and wait for me!" Idris commanded, even as Snape saw his face begin to draw in anxiety and despair. Snape had a fair idea what Idris was now remembering.

The Dementors glided lower and lower, some of them beginning to swoop in anticipation as they neared where the pack stood.

"You can't deny the Dark Lord for long!" Greyback shouted, a leer plastered on his face. "Come with me now and give me Snape, and your pack will be spared!"

Snape heard a guttural, undoubtedly animalistic growl from deep in the Alpha's throat as his mouth turned down even further in revulsion.

"I was named for this mountain. AND HERE I WILL STAY!" Idris bellowed, then raised his wand. "Now, my pack!"

As one, the pack cast and roared, **_"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_**

The pack cast their Patronuses at the Dementors and, as the forms ran bounded forward, the mass of silver wolves and a doe coalesced into one huge pack, reverberating almost painfully with the pack's magic, that chased the Dementors down, enveloped them – and extinguished them as a crashing wave would extinguish a campfire – the Dementors hissed out of existence under the force of gorging on so much Light magic, leaving the ragged band of Greyback's werewolves and wizards exposed before them, circled by the luminescent forms.

Idris looked well-pleased. "Because we are pack," he growled, as each werewolf and two wizards recalled their Patronuses and stood their ground.

"Wands at the ready," Idris snarled, his gaze locking with Greyback "Hold your stance. This is our mountain. We give away nothing!"

Then he whispered to Stacy who lumbered forward in front of the pack uncatching his cloak. Snape saw Greyback start to guffaw unpleasantly and Bellatrix shrieked with demented laughter, followed by the others of their pack.

Then Stacy transformed into a huge wolf and the cloak fell to the ground. It was almost as fluid a transition as an Animagus. The wolf snarled, its lips pulled over its vicious teeth as it strode in front of its pack mates protectively, head lowered looking directly at Greyback's pack.

A film of sweat popped on Snape's skin as he felt his knees weaken – a werewolf capable of shape-shifting at will – it was the stuff of legend - and nightmares. He heard Lupin whisper, "Dear Merlin." Faint cries of fear could be heard from the group they faced, and then Snape sneered as he saw Jake, Uriah and Jude Disapparate and he could make out Bellatrix stiffening her duelling stance, her foul laughter stoppered as her face froze in disbelief.

Each werewolf now picked his adversary, like Idris, locking eyes with them, knowing every one of their opponents were outnumbered three to one. Snape knew who he and Lupin had already elected to fight, having more duelling experience than the pack. He saw her there at the front, her dark hair as wild as her eyes, alight with malice, crooked wand at the ready. There was plenty of raw power here to duel Bellatrix, but oh she was an accomplished Dark witch and for this battle – she was his: his and Lupin's for each had a score to settle with her.

He heard the cracking of bones in the necks and shoulders and hands of the pack around him, preparing to fight, with wand, knife or fist – any way – it made no difference. Victory was all that mattered now.

"STAND UP!" Idris's battle roar went up and the pack began to run heavily towards Greyback's band as the wolf bounded ahead, snarling and snapping its jaws.

Immediately, panicked jets of green began flying towards the wolf, Greyback's pack forgetting the rest of their adversaries, accompanied by the wild cackles of Bellatrix, but with preternatural speed, the wolf seemed to dodge them all. Snape wasn't sure if his eyes deceived him, some even seemed to rebound from its coat – but that couldn't be right, could it?

Even as they all ran thunderously, yelling and some howling, casting their own Stunning Curses, Snape could see some of the werewolves facing them hopping with panic at the sight of the wolf and so many other werewolves. In just a few minutes, another three had Disapparated to Greyback's indignant howls of "STAND FAST, YOU BASTARDS! FIGHT!"

"To the right is Nero," he heard Lupin shout to the lieutenants, "and the left is Aidan and Jared is behind! Wizards are ranged behind them. Take them all out!"

Idris's lieutenants now had their marks and began to unleash curses against those named, but it seemed one of the pack already had already marked Aidan as his quarry. As all manner of curses flew around the bounding, slavering wolf, the wolf's object became clear: Aidan, the murderer of Acastus – the werewolf who had taken the Killing Curse meant for Stacy. Now Stacy sought his revenge.

The wolf had his prey's scent. Aidan realised a second too late that he had focused on the wrong target remembered from Whitby when he raised his wand to Lupin, and even as he tried to turn his wand, the wolf sprang high and was on him, at his neck, snarling and shaking as he bit in a frenzy – the spray of blood catching those around him, but none could assist – they all knew it was too late even as Aidan's screams gurgled away to nothing. Jared was covered in sprayed blood, seeming to fix him in terror to the spot until Lupin's curse knocked him off his feet, then he was galvanised and began to duel fiercely, even from his prone position on the floor. Alphard duelled Nero and the two seemed evenly matched, as Idris's lieutenants and his pack stormed into the mass of Greyback's packs with knives as well as wands, the fighting becoming more visceral.

Snape tore his eyes away from the body being thrown around by the wolf as he gained on his own target, a flagellating curse, following on quickly from Stunner rebounding from his Shield Charm as Bellatrix faced him, unerringly knowing that she had been targeted. A fiery lash sped from her wand, but Snape doused it with a Conjured shower of ice shards that cut into anyone they contacted, cutting her unprotected wand hand. All around them, curses were hollered and coloured curses blazed past them, but Snape and Bellatrix cast their curses soundlessly and viciously, with all the malice they could muster. Snape was sure that the first to incant aloud would utter the _Avada Kedavra_ ; he was certain.

Bolts of red and gold and silver streaked from their wands as their eyes glittered maliciously and their wands danced with slashing, cutting and jagged movements of spells that presaged mutilation for those not agile enough to side-step the impact of their curses, obscuring for them the vicious duelling that surrounded them, as werewolves fell under spells and knives, and then fists and boots.

Idris and Greyback were duelling, their incantations roared at each other, their wand movements huge, both packs giving them a wide berth, but Snape was only peripherally aware. His eyes were focused on Bellatrix, so much so that he didn't notice Nero suddenly turning from Alphard and casting _Incarcerous_ at Snape's ankles. As he stumbled in his bonds, Lupin was suddenly there, duelling in his place to shield him.

Bellatrix cackled wildly. "The half-breed! The Order's flea-bitten wolfie!" she cooed in that infantile voice that angered Snape beyond all reason as he cast _Finite Incantatum_ to the bindings on his legs and scrambled to his feet, both he and Lupin now duelling Bellatrix until he saw Nero trying to advance stealthily again, and Snape turned quickly crying, " _STUPEFY!"_ and that werewolf was down, lying next to Jared.

Snape quickly looked about him. Most of Greyback's troops were down, Stupefied or worse, overrun by the mountain pack. Stacy's wolf alone accounted for four, from what Snape could see, and the wolf itself was still in a killing frenzy. There were casualties for Idris's forces too, but not so many and those standing kept the injured behind them so the bearers could take them to safety. Then Snape heard the howls of outrage as Greyback's werewolves started to realise they were being flanked by hexes and curses from the sides too as the pincer movement led by Idris's sons closed in on Greyback and his remaining eleven fighters, picking them off easily, Stunned or desperately injured, one by one they found themselves bound by their enemies until only five remained, duelling frantically.

In that instant of looking around him instead of at his target, he heard the curse screech from the Dark witch's lips:

" _SECTUMSEMPRA!"_

It hit Lupin squarely.

"NO!" Snape yelled, spinning to Lupin, as suddenly Alphard was there to block Bellatrix's repetition with a Shield Charm of his own and began to draw Bellatrix away from Snape as Snape furiously cast the counter-curse at the deep lacerations shearing through Lupin's chest as blood spurted from the wounds and he writhed in agony. Snape blocked the sounds and sights of the battle from his consciousness completely as he crouched over Lupin's body, pulling together Lupin's flesh and knitting his wounds with his incantation as his wand drew over the wounds, even as the huge wolf, gouts of blood still smearing its jaws, also came to guard them, pacing around, watching from side to side for threats even as Alphard threw himself into the vicious duel with his niece.

As Snape finished knitting together the wounds, two of the designated bearers darted forward and bundled Lupin on a stretcher to move him out of the field of battle.

"Dittany!" hissed Snape at them. "Without delay." The young werewolves nodded, scuttling away with their precious charge to the cover of the trees as Snape watched like a hawk until he saw Angharad take charge of him. Only then did his attention snap back to the moment of battle in time to see the wolf leap at Bellatrix who was standing over Alphard Stupefied at her feet with demented glee. As the wolf leapt, Snape cast _Rennervate_ at Alphard and he rolled out of harm's way.

She sent curse after curse at the wolf and one curse took and the wolf's agonised whine cut through the bedlam as it fell heavily to the ground and thrashed, whimpering on the ground. Alphard rushed to the wolf's aid, as Snape cast a whipping curse hot on the heels of a laceration curse that caught Bellatrix's wand arm as he saw her form the casting for the Killing Curse at Alphard and then blasted her backwards, although his Stunner missed. She re-cast her Shield Charm and staggered back, blood pouring down her arm, looking wildly around herself at the many werewolves now surrounding her, their hatred plain. The three remaining wizards not bound, Disapparated, leaving her completely unguarded.

"Come, you stupid brute! You've failed!" Bellatrix screamed at Greyback as she Disapparated just as Idris slammed into him, taking Greyback's feet from under him and jammed his elbow sharply into Greyback's windpipe to take his breath away. Greyback rolled on the ground, gasping for air as Idris kicked him in the ribs then stood over him.

"A wizard's lap-dog – that's all you are. Well, get up! GET UP, I SAY!" Idris bellowed as he grabbed the wand that had fallen from Greyback's grasp. Slowly, Greyback crawled onto on fours and as he managed to catch his breath his stood, shakily and trying to carry himself with a shred of dignity, but he could barely balance. The now lone werewolf stood, bent over, with his hands on his knees, rasping for breath, half his pack strewn about him, dead or injured, as the mountain Alpha towered over him, his face as mask of revulsion and hatred, ignoring the blood dripping from his own mouth and nose, his fingers straining as they held his wand – the desire to snap it deeply etched in Idris's features.

"You go to your precious Dark Lord, _Fenrir,_ " growled Idris menacingly. "And you tell him what waits for you both here if you dare return. Death will always wait for you here – on my mountain."

Idris kicked the werewolf hard, knocking him down once more to add insult to injury as Greyback scrambled to his feet once more and staggered a few steps backwards, anger and fear warring in his features, then Idris tossed Greyback's wand to him and, with his own roar of impotent rage, he Disapparated.

The pack's roar of triumph went up as their prisoners were hauled to their feet, or Levitated if too badly injured, to move out once more.

Snape didn't stay to see what happened then but with a quick nod to Alphard who acknowledged it, he Apparated the perimeter of the wards and rushed through towards the roundhouse where Alphard had set up the field hospital, catching sight of the stretcher carrying Lupin just ahead. He guided them to the tent instead of the roundhouse, and then ordered them away.

"I'm all right, Severus," wheezed Lupin, his pallor shocking, almost transparent. Snape's Cutting Curse created terrible trauma to the nervous system, even though Snape had healed it almost instantly. Snape kneeled by the stretcher, and stroked Lupin's face, gulping down his own huge guilt, as he pressed his own cheek against Lupin's. "They've given me Dittany. All will be well. Help me to bed."

Nodding mutely, Snape took Lupin's arm over his shoulder and bore his weight as he helped him to stand and removed the bloody shirt from his body.

"So, what's your great Slytherin plan for my escape then?" Snape asked, trying to mask from Lupin how terrified he was feeling, although he still felt a tremor of adrenaline in the set of his own jaw as he helped Lupin onto the bed they had shared last night and pulled off Lupin's boots.

"It's quite simple. I'm going to let you go," Lupin said, his voice weak, as Snape helped him to lie down.

"Pardon?"

"I let you go." Lupin smiled weakly. "We say I put on an act for Idris because I know you are a member of the Order and I needed to make sure I kept you to myself to keep my fellow Order member safe. I _pretended_ to have a grievance against you. And, of course, you are not just any member, but the very double agent who saved me from Voldemort and Greyback's clutches last summer." Lupin paused to breathe deeply, clearly having overexerted himself. Then he continued. "Whilst the triumphant side carouses, I will free you thus paying back my life debt." Even though he was clearly weak, Lupin's eyes twinkled as Snape's eyebrows rose high in surprise.

 _But it was perfect! Clever, clever Remus_ , _playing the double agent card so well._ A favour for a favour; that first favour having been at the Dark Lord's _own_ instigation! It was perfection!

"It's duplicitous to the point of complete honesty," laughed Lupin wheezily, as he clutched his chest, "except for our mating, of course." Lupin gave Snape an affectionate nudge with his hand. "Is it Slytherin enough for you?"

A smile slowly broke over Snape's face, as broad as he could ever remember smiling in his life as he plumped the pillow and placed it back under Lupin's head. "It certainly is." He laughed quietly. "We say then that you slip me my wand or deliberately leave it where I can get it once the victory celebrations start. I'll take those wizards with me but I'll leave the werewolves, if that's all right with you," he added with a smirk to Idris who had come into the tent with Angharad as Snape spoke, his injuries clearly having been tended. "The Dark Lord will not expect me to save werewolves, even Greyback's companions."

Idris guffawed. "Aye. They need some learnin' before I let them go."

Alphard then strode in, his Polyjuice having worn off, looking flustered and covered in blood that was not his own as he set down his satchels of potions and balms and made his way over to Lupin, quickly siphoning the blood away from his clothes before he touched him.

"Seth has healed the worst of it," Lupin said, breathily. "And Angharad has given me Dittany." Even as Alphard took Lupin's pulse, Snape's features and body began to undulate and shift as his own Polyjuice potion wore off. He didn't complain, although the transformation always was sickening and he felt unsteady for a short time.

"Oh yes, I heard Seth's counter-curse," said Alphard, waiting until Snape had completely recovered. "I covered him as he cast it. I've never heard that curse before. Is it a Death Eater speciality? Is that how you know the counter-curse?"

Snape felt the flush at his neck and cheeks as his stomach turned over. His speciality curse never failed to dog his steps. "Yes, a Death Eater speciality," he replied, holding Lupin's sympathetic gaze. _And one that could have killed Remus._ More Dementor fodder – the stuff for his future nightmares, he knew.

"Will you teach the counter-curse to me later?" asked Alphard as he held Lupin's wrist for his pulse and then checked the site of the recently healed wounds, pulled together by Snape's incantations.

"Of course," Snape said, watching Alphard closely, realising that he was surveying Lupin's other scars.

"I wondered if perhaps you know what curse was used on Stacy," Alphard continued. "All the curses Bella used rebounded from Stacy in his Dark creature state, except one that has caused his eye lids to swell painfully – he's in terrible pain. I've tried everything, but I don't recognise the curse."

Snape felt his heart sink further. He closed his eyes slowly. "It sounds like the Conjunctivitis curse used to slow down dragons because their hides are impenetrable." He didn't tell Alphard that it had been his idea to use it against people during the last war: how he'd been lauded for his ingenuity. "Try _Oculos draco, ecce!_ with this movement and it should clear, although he'll need some balm for the residual soreness." Snape showed them an elongated figure of eight, and Angharad nodded, thanked him quickly and sped away, but Alphard remained.

"A real shape-shifter," Lupin whispered to Idris. "I thought they were just legends."

"Only known one other," Idris said quietly. "The one that Turned me could change like that. As terrible a thing as I ever saw."

"But we know Stacy, and he isn't Dark," Alphard said, brightly. "If anything, I think he carried the day."

"Aye. Aye, I think he did." Idris nodded, with a faint smile.

Alphard turned back to Lupin.

"I wanted to ask you, if I may, Remus ... are all these from your transformations?" asked Alphard. When Lupin confirmed it, Alphard frowned. "So much damage. Why so much?"

"He is a werewolf who tries to live with wizards. He denies his wolf," Idris said sadly. Snape looked at him, feeling ever more wretched.

"You are not scarred like this?" asked Snape.

"I have some scarring, but nothing like this and I am much older."

"Remus used to imprison himself to keep others safe and the wolf sought prey," said Snape, his gaze holding Lupin's. "It found itself."

Idris swore under his breath and Alphard looked appalled.

"That's the difference," said Alphard. "The werewolves here have no bites other than their Turning bites; only breaks, tears and the like."

"It is better with Wolfsbane, and before the war, we could run at the moon, and there were no more injuries." Snape felt a shroud of heavy guilt settle over him again. He had failed to keep Lupin safe. "But recently ... I haven't been able to be with him and it has become painful for him again."

"What keeps you from your mate, Seth Moore? Dumbledore told us Riddle keeps you at the moon," Idris asked. His tone was kind and sympathetic, and Lupin held Snape's hand and nodded. Dumbledore had told them so much already – why should he and Lupin have to shoulder everything alone?

Snape outlined to Alphard and Idris the ritual he undertook every full moon, feeling his skin crawling with shame at the looks of horror on their faces when he described his own blood-letting until he could bear to look at them no more, even though Lupin held his hand, squeezing it every now and then in re-assurance.

"Dumbledore told us you provided Riddle a service ... but this ..." Idris shook his head with sadness.

"But wait, Seth," said Alphard, a conspiratorial half smile forming on his lips. "Don't you realise what this means." Alphard started to chuckle, much to Snape's confusion and growing consternation.

" _Your_ blood? Your _Lycanthropic_ blood!" With that, Alphard roared with laughter and clapped his hands. "It's too good! Your blood fizzes with your mate's Lycanthropy and the lord of blood purity imbibes it freely, the bloody cannibal!"

Snape's eyes widened comically slowly as he turned to watch understanding dawn on Lupin's face as Alphard excitedly told them his and Snape's discussion that morning, as Idris's grizzled face frowned in concentration, and as Alphard talked, so a plan – a bold and beautiful plan – began to form in Snape's mind.

"But this is it!" gasped Snape in an epiphany. "This is how I escape at the moon, Remus! I say I was injured by one of the werewolves and my blood is now unworthy ..."

"It's too risky, Severus!" Lupin disagreed, forgetting his own charge to all to call Snape 'Seth'. "He might kill you."

"No," Snape reassured Lupin, moving forward to be nearer to him and clutching Lupin's hands to his chest. "I'm convinced it will work. I will have rescued the Dark Lord's wizards, have injuries as my proof, and I still have the trust of the Order's very own werewolf as well as Albus! No other Death Eater can give him that! Merlin and Nimue, Remus! It's perfect!" Snape's heart was beating very fast with the exhilaration of the thought of freedom at the moon. He might still be punished, yes; but he wasn't going to tell Lupin that.

He stood quickly.

"When you put me to bed after the wolf gouged me ..." He sat down again quickly and scooped up Lupin's hands as he saw the horror of the remembrance on Lupin's face. He shook his head gently. "Don't, my love. Just remember this for me. How different did the scars look from how they look now?" he asked softly, tenderly pushing a lock of hair away from Lupin's shining eyes.

Lupin had become quite ashen at the recollection, and he seemed unable to speak. Then, haltingly, his voice thick with emotion, he said, "The wolf's healing had closed the wounds completely. They were already silver, but the edges were raised and angry." His voice seemed to fade away. "That's the only difference," he finished in a whisper.

"Shirt off, Seth!" commanded Alphard. "I have just the thing to make that reaction on a Lycanthropic scar so it will appear as if it happened today."

Snape kissed Lupin's hand and smiled softly at him, then stood and pulled his shirt off over his head.

Alphard retrieved an Aconite root. He cut it length-wise and then brought it to Snape.

"This will burn the scar," advised Alphard simply, "but the surrounding human skin will be unaffected." Snape nodded. Alphard pressed the cut Aconite root into and across the scars. Snape hissed as he flinched and then bit his lip: it was like acid on his skin! He knew werewolves had an intolerance of the plant, but now he had an understanding why.

"There," said Alphard, as he wiped the residue of sap-like substance from Snape's scars. "Like new." He smiled brightly. "If you don't treat those Aconite burns with ordinary burn salve, those welts will remain. As soon as you can, get them treated. They'll clear up straightway."

Snape inspected the burns. _Good._ Snape wasn't concerned that it wasn't full moon: there were other partially-transformed werewolves like Greyback who would be capable of transmitting a dilute form of the contagion. Indeed, Greyback boasted of it often. The Dark Lord knew this.

He grabbed his shirt and cast a spell to rent the garment as if caught by claws. Then he cast a small cutting charm to his thumb and siphoned some blood and replicated it with a charm to drench the shreds of his shirt, still with his back to Lupin and then pulled it back on, quickly pulling on his robe so Lupin wouldn't see the disturbing overall effect.

Snape's stomach was fluttering warmly. If he could just pull this off ...

"I'll need more injuries," said Snape suddenly.

"What?" blustered Lupin, clearly startled.

"A black eye, or a split lip – very visible bruising, blood ... for when the Dark Lord sees me. Will you hit me?" Snape asked Idris, as if ordering a cup of tea.

"No!" cried Lupin in shock, starting up from the bed.

"How hard, boy?" growled Idris, with a half grin, as he stood in front of Lupin so he could not see and, before Snape could answer, swung into Snape's face. There was a sickening crunch as pain fanned through his facial nerves, as Snape fell to the floor from the fierce blow.

"That hard," rasped Snape as he held his own cheek. "'Xactly that."

It would be perfect: a shattered cheek would create the illusion on first sight that he needed. Cradling the side of his face, Snape took the phial of pain reliever that Alphard proffered, as Alphard helped Snape up and then back to sit on Lupin's bed.

"Dear sweet Merlin!" breathed Lupin, grasping Snape's hand. Despite swelling starting to form around his cheekbone and eye, all Snape could think about was how upset Lupin looked, staring at the injury blossoming on his face, adding to the bruising already there, and to those that Lupin knew covered his body and the reminder of the wolf.

"I know it looks bad, Remus, but I'll be fine. If anything, these injuries will save me. As soon as I leave the Dark Lord, Remus, Poppy will heal them all, I promise you." He leant forward, even though it made his shattered cheek throb unpleasantly, and kissed Lupin's lips.

"And we'll have the moon again, Remus," Snape whispered. "Just the two of us, as it should be."

 

* * *

**Next chapter: Snape must explain all to the Dark Lord.**


	90. Tainted Triumph

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All IPR owned by JKR.  
> Idris and Wandsong are mine.

 

"Now," growled Idris. "We'll be taking our dead to the mountain at twilight to say our farewell to them and light their pyres. That would be a good time for you to make your escape, Seth Moore."

"How many dead?" asked Lupin.

"Four of ours. We buried theirs in the forest."

Snape nodded.

"D'ye need anything more from me?"

"I should take the wizards with me when I escape. Did you take their wands?" Snape asked.

"Aye." Idris pulled out a handful of wands from his pocket and threw them on Alphard's desk. "I'll leave 'em here." He picked out five and gathered the rest. "I'll take those of the wolfkind."

Snape couldn't hide his amazement that Idris was able to identify which wands belonged to whom from their touch. "Will you give the werewolves theirs back, or give them to your pack?"

"These wands have used Dark magic. I'll not have any of my pack carry them. Don't like to snap wands, but ..." His face set like granite as he clearly contemplated the fate of the werewolves they held captive. "I may place 'em on the pyres of our dead. It'd be fittin'."

Snape and Lupin nodded, even as Alphard squeezed Idris's shoulder.

"Can a wand used for Dark magic influence another wizard them?" ventured Lupin.

"It taints the wand," said Idris, looking at Snape meaningfully. "And Dark magic always taints the one who uses it." Then, very slowly, Idris removed a pouch from his neck, an enchanted pouch, Snape was sure. From it, he pulled a wand, with a filigreed handle, dainty but long, slightly preposterous in his large, calloused hands.

"My Mam's wand," he said.

"I thought you were a half-blood," said Snape, and then cursed himself for such a thoughtless observation.

"That I am. My Mam was a Muggle-born witch. Caused quite a stink for Da when he married her." He placed the wand on the table, never taking his eyes from it. "I never knew her. She died in childbirth with me. But even when I was quite young, I could listen to her wand." Idris's expression became distant, lost in the memory. "It sang of her, gentle and kind, and I could bring forth her spells: charms mostly." Snape couldn't help but wonder at Idris's gift. _Priori Incantatem_ was a difficult spell to work for an adult wizard or witch, but Idris could do it as a child. Snape suspected Idris had done it without incantation, but wordlessly with the deep magic of his ancient gift. "I carried it as my spare when I came to Hogwarts, although I rarely used it."

His dark eyes snapped back to the present. "When I was Turned and captured by Vargulf, Riddle used it to Torture me. He enjoyed defiling the pure wand. It's willow and Unicorn hair – a pretty wand for healing work," he said. "But I'll not use it. I cannot even call her spells without having to see this first." He passed his own hand over the wand and then turned away from a golden light that arced upwards and then it dropped and it formed the ghost of a boy – of Idris – silently screaming in agony, writhing and twitching on the floor. Idris cancelled the spell as Alphard hid his face in his hands.

It was like a window to the past, knowing the young man who became the Dark Lord stood behind that boy's mother's wand as he cast _Crucio_ to get what he wanted. Always torture.

"Can it be cleansed of the Dark magic?" Snape asked. "Water it down with light magic perhaps? Disgorge the Dark and fill the wand with Light spells?"

"Dilute it?" asked Alphard, who was visibly shaken. "You mean use it for healing or other Light magic?"

"A wand takes a taint likes a man drinks water," said Idris gruffly. "The more a wand is used for murder and torture, the more it becomes a killer's tool." He looked at the wand again. "But there is something to what you say, but it can never be pure again." He placed the wand back in the pouch, then turned to Snape and Lupin once more.

"Tell me," rumbled Idris, "why Riddle seeks me once more? After all these years, why?"

"I believe it's to do with Harry Potter's wand," offered Snape.

Whatever Idris might have been expecting, it was clear that this answer was not it as his black brows shot upwards.

"Who the hell is Harry Potter?"

"Who the hell indeed ..." sighed Snape.

"Severus!" protested Lupin, weakly.

"I'm sorry, Remus. Harry Potter is a student at Hogwarts. He is 16 years old, and is the only person known to have survived the Killing Curse, cast at him by the Dark Lord when he was an infant."

"But no-one can survive the Killing Curse," interjected Idris.

"And yet he did," said Snape, turning to Alphard, "with just a scar."

"Dumbledore believes that when his mother, Lily, was killed casting herself between Harry and Voldemort," explained Lupin, breathlessly, "her sacrifice imbued her son with a protective enchantment so when Voldemort cast the Killing Curse, it rebounded on him."

Idris sat heavily in a chair and raked his hands across his facial stubble. "Old earth magic," he said.

"Yes, precisely," said Snape. "No trace was found of the Dark Lord, and it was widely assumed he had died, but Dumbledore knew he was just maimed – a shadow of himself. Dumbledore knew he would return. And he did. He used a Dark blood ritual to restore his form, trapping Harry Potter and using his blood to restore himself, hoping to take part of his mother's continuing protection into himself." He heard Alphard utter an imprecation, even as Idris stared at him, his dark eyes glittering.

"When he was restored, he made Harry duel him -" continued Lupin.

"- he duelled a child –?" interrupted Idris.

"- without compunction," continued Snape. "But when their spells met, their wands seemed to connect and neither could break the connection and the Dark Lord's wand's previous spells were disgorged, including shadows of his murder victims who covered the child's escape."

Telling this story to the man who could hear Wandsong, Snape wished Idris was a more talkative man so he could know what Idris thought at an instinctive level.

"Tell me about this boy's wand."

"Harry's wand is holly and phoenix feather," Lupin said. "Voldemort's wand contains a feather from the same bird but I don't know the wood ..."

"Yew," said Idris quietly. Snape and Lupin stared at Idris, but he waved away their interest, clearly not wanting to tell that story this day. "So the twin cores' spells met and forced _priori incantatem_ of his last spells including his murders ... what colour was the stream?"

Lupin looked confused, but Snape quickly supplied, "Gold. Dumbledore told me it was gold."

The air in the tent was tense as three men watched the other consider what he'd been told. Finally, Idris broke the silence.

"I know now why Dumbledore came to see us. Riddle's wand cannot beat the boy's. The old protective magic he imbibed so freely means Potter's wand is stronger. The wand recognises the strength."

"He is more powerful than the Dark Lord?" asked Snape, incredulously.

"That not what I said," huffed Idris impatiently. "The wand recognises the one who has the protection. Riddle should not have taken Potter's blood."

"It isn't just the twin cores?" asked Snape, his mind now lurching back to the questions he had posed, but forgotten, back in the library of Grimmauld Place.

"That is part, but it is not all. There is much more magic at work there. Much more."

"Would you have been able to make a wand to defeat Potter's?"

"Possibly. I could listen to Riddle's wand for the song of phoenix feather and then I'd'a found a core and wood that combined could overpower it. 'Course, I heard Riddle's Wandsong decades ago. It was a Dark wand, even then." Idris shuddered at the memory. "But even if they are twins, they are not _mirrors_ of each other. The boy's wand would have a different song, the core would resonate differently in the wood. It's a younger wand. Not been used for Dark magic. I could only have learnt so much from Riddle's wand. Potter's woulda been the wand I would need to hear. But Riddle probably doesn't understand that."

They were silent for a while then Idris added, "Dumbledore understands though. He's understood where the danger lies."

Snape and Lupin looked at each other, not comprehending Idris's enigmatic statement.

"Can you tell us?" asked Lupin.

Idris regarded the two men and then shook his head slowly.

"I don't think so. It is a terrible thing, best not known."

Idris left to discuss Snape's escape route with his sons so his escape with the wizards would look realistic, whilst Alphard asked Snape to show him the counter-curse to the Cutting Curse he had seen Bellatrix use.

"You must trace the wound," said Snape, holding his wand just so, "wand tip to one edge of the skin." Snape began the incantation which was almost like a resonant song. "You must picture the wound, from the deepest part of the cut at the dermis, visualise it knitting together upwards through the epidermis. The visualisation is key to the healing."

Alphard wrote notes. Snape smiled at his obsessive note-taking. Then he practised the chant, Snape correcting his nuances every now and then. Then Alphard wrote notes on that too. Snape saw over his shoulder that he'd written the counter-curse and wand movement for the Conjunctivitis Curse as well. As he finished, he turned to look at Snape.

"I must join the others now to set the pyres on the mountain." He exhaled roughly, then stepped forward and shook Snape's hand. "Thank you, Severus. For what you did for me - for us. I hope we will meet again. In the meantime, I will take care of Remus – please don't worry. And I will write." His grey eyes, so like those of his nephew, darkened as he frowned. "Take care," he said earnestly, "and good luck." Then he left the tent quickly.

Snape sat on the bed next to Lupin and held his hand, made thoughtful by the emotion he had seen in Alphard. Within minutes, Geraint came to them and set out for Snape the route through the camp that would be unguarded, but for a few men who had been forewarned of the escape and had agreed to be Stunned. Snape agreed to keep the wizards' wands until they were out of the wards so only he would cast the spells. Geraint bade him farewell, and left also.

They would be alone now until it was time to leave and Snape lay down next to Lupin, just so he could hold him before he presented himself to the Dark Lord. He knew what he was about to attempt was a huge gamble: if he misjudged, he doubted he would survive. He held Lupin closely who nuzzled into his neck, and savoured the feel of him in his arms. He knew Lupin would be feeling the same by his needful hold on him. This is what the lies were for, and he had to steel himself.

"I need to get my thoughts straight," he said, after some time lying silently in each other's arms.

Lupin understood, and talked Snape through his story as Snape gathered the memories he would need: Lupin's wolf tearing his stomach; isolating Stacy's transformation from the battle; the genuine memories of his terror when he was captured and his wounds being inflicted by Idris. His eyes closed, he meditated until the memories were fixed in the order he needed.

Then, with a small kiss to the end of Lupin's nose, he stood and tore his robes to match the torn shirt beneath and then sat close with Lupin again, who looked distressed at Snape's now bedraggled and bloody appearance. Lupin dropped his head on Snape's shoulder and his arms wrapped around him and he returned the embrace, one hand holding Lupin's head to his shoulder to soothe him.

"There's something else we need to do, Severus," said Lupin, taking hold of his own wand from the side table. "There are werewolves captive there too and they will know what we have done by scent."

Snape was baffled at first, but then realised Lupin needed to clean the smell of sex, whilst leaving the grime and blood from the last two days. He wrinkled his nose.

"That quite a discriminating spell," he said quietly, but knowing it had to be done, he closed his eyes and, as Lupin whispered the chant, he felt the charm work intimately and not entirely pleasantly, but he had to hand it to Lupin – he understood the level of detail this lie needed. They stayed in each other's arms then until they heard in the distance hymns carrying through the frosty air and knew the time had come. He leant in and kissed Lupin deeply, their hands caressing each other gently as Snape promised to use the mirror to call Lupin once he was safely back at Hogwarts.

"Dear Severus," Lupin whispered. "Please take care."

They held their foreheads against each other, holding the moment as long as they could, but Snape knew he could put things off no longer and, with one final kiss, set off to the tent where the others were held. He crept through the tents, as Geraint had directed him, until he saw the tent with two guards and he noisily Stunned them. Now was no time for subtlety. His witnesses were inside and they needed a show.

Throwing aside the tent flaps, he took in where the wizards were and went to Scabior first, whose eyes popped wide at the sight of Snape and began to hop in his chair. Snape released his magical bonds. The wizard was still bound to silence, but Snape did not release him from that. Instead, he held his finger to his lips and Scabior nodded. Quickly, Snape released the other four wizards and beckoned them to follow him. Stealthily, he crept through the agreed pathway, looking around each corner, holding the others back with one arm _(as if he cared!)_ until he felt the reverberation of the ancient wards. Two werewolves patrolled and Snape quickly Stunned them. One of the wizards ran to get the fallen wands, but Snape pushed him all through the wards quickly.

"Here!" he hissed, pulling five wands from his torn robe and offered them as each plucked his own wand from Snape's hand. "You don't need theirs. We all go straight to the Dark Lord outside the Manor." As they all nodded, he released them all from the silencing spells, and Disapparated without another word to them.

As he came out of his Apparition outside the wards of Malfoy Manor, he saw only Scabior had been brave enough to join him. The others Apparated, but loitered further away. Of course, Scabior could not access the grounds as he had no Dark Mark and he waited for Snape at the wrought iron gates.

"D'you need 'elp?" offered Scabior as Snape held his arm over his midriff, his pain relieving potion having worn off completely.

"No," he snapped. He didn't need to curry favour with a wretch like this and he strode ahead, each step making the break in his cheek throb sickeningly and the burns chafe against the blood-hardened shirt shreds under the torn robe that he had wrapped around himself. He slowed as he approached the gate, raising his left arm to display the Dark Mark to the enchantment and then grasped Scabior's arm to lead him through the wards that would otherwise cut him to ribbons.

He strode through the manor to the great hall where he knew the Dark Lord would be: all he had to do was to follow the sounds of someone screaming under the _Cruciatus_ curse. With every painful step, the dark fug of deep Occlusion took his primal fear to the back of his mind.

He let himself through the double doors, Scabior at his heels, and his eyes snapped to the figure of Greyback twisting violently in the air as the Dark Lord applied short, sharp bursts of the Torture Curse to the werewolf's already bloody and broken body. Not enough to kill him; just enough for the maximum amount of pain without permanent damage. The Dark Lord was very skilled in its application, after all. The others were dotted around the hall, all cringing from torture.

"My Lord ..." Snape ventured to catch the Dark Lord's attention. The Dark Lord's eyes widened and flashed as Greyback's now unconscious body hung limply in the air, blood dripping from his nose and mouth and, Snape thought he could discern, from his ears too. The Dark Lord allowed the werewolf's body to fall heavily and unheeded as he turned and walked silently to Snape, his wand still aloft, his body tense and his teeth still gritted in fury.

"Severus," he hissed. Snape knelt, slowly and carefully to draw attention to his injuries, and bowed his head in supplication. He heard the rustle of robes telling him that Scabior had done the same behind him.

"My Lord," Snape's voice quavered. He didn't even try to hold his composure: it wouldn't serve his purposes now.

The Dark Lord turned his head as if assessing Snape, then one long white finger lifted Snape's chin, almost a gentle touch. The crimson eyes scanned the broken cheek with its livid bruising and crusted blood.

"Do you have other injuries, Severus?" he asked, almost a gentle enquiry, but for the spark of cruelty that lay banked in his eyes.

"My Lord," gasped Snape, "yes, I ... "

His voice stopped in a gulp as the Dark Lord's wand traced Snape's Adam's apple and then touched his shirt collar and moved it to one side as he perused the bruising to his throat.

"Tell me what happened ... from the beginning, Severus."

Slowly, haltingly, Snape described the capture of the mate of Idris named Alf and the delivery of the note, on to the messenger coming to offer a meeting under cover, which Snape refused as a trap. He brought all of these memories to the forefront of his mind knowing the Dark Lord could assault his memories at any time.

"Very wise, Severus," the Dark Lord said softly.

Then, he told of their meeting in the clearing at which he was ambushed by Idris and how he was battered, punched to the throat and kicked to the stomach, and his shoulder dislocated.

"Which shoulder, Severus?"

Snape's eyes darted to his bruised right shoulder, hoping he would not be asked to remove his shirt completely, knowing the bites would be visible. But the Dark Lord just lifted his shirt collar away with his wand and regarded the violent black and purple blossom on his shoulder, his mouth curled down in a sneer.

Snape ploughed on, describing his march through the camp, and how Idris had beaten him in the tent where he had been held. He gestured to his face and then to his stomach.

The Dark Lord made a small noise, as if sympathetic, but Snape knew the Dark Lord wanted details of pain.

"The werewolf, Idris, my Lord, has shape-shifters in his pack. Partially transformed werewolves. He made one ... told one ..." He took his arm away from his stomach and then peeled open his robe so his blood-stained, shredded shirt could be seen, the slashes gaping open on the livid welts of his wounds.

"My Lord. I was attacked by a partially transformed werewolf," he said quietly, as if confessing a deep and shameful secret. He heard the Dark Lord's sharp intake of breath through his teeth and felt the air resonate with his charging magic.

"You are ... _infected_?" he hissed, his wand now playing with the shredded shirt.

"I am not a werewolf, my Lord," Snape said hurriedly, allowing his breath to hitch with fear at what he was about to say, and the huge gamble he was undertaking. "But I am not worthy of your Mark. My blood is ... contaminated."

Snape then prostrated himself for the blow to fall, calculating, hoping he had judged his performance. Snape knew his worth to the Dark Lord but there was always the chance that the Dark Lord had not reckoned it.

"Ach!" the Dark Lord hissed scathingly. "And Greyback allowed this to happen?"

"He was outnumbered and ... bested, my Lord. Idris has a pack of legion proportions. His wolves are trained in combat, I dare say by the blood traitor. I was betrayed by the mountain pack's lack of trust in Greyback. I failed you in not realising they would never trust him. I deserve your scorn, my Lord."

Snape felt truly sick to the pit of his stomach as he touched the hem of the Dark Lord's robe. If he had calculated wrongly, the Dark Lord would not be lenient. His life now hung in the balance and Snape knew it.

"Leave us, and take this ... beast with you!" shouted the Dark Lord to Scabior. Snape's heart lurched violently and he dared a glance upwards to see Scabior and others drag Greyback out of the room. He inhaled mightily.

And waited.

The Dark Lord circled him, his movements almost silent but for the whisper of his robe along the floor and the slither of his snake nearby.

"How did you escape?" he asked at last.

"The werewolf, Lupin, was with them, my Lord. He told Idris he had a score to settle with me, a prior claim, that Idris could have what was left."

"Look at me, Severus."

Snape returned to a kneel, his movements now genuinely laboured, as the Dark Lord turned his head towards Snape again, the reptilian movement turning Snape's stomach.

_Legilimens!_

It was not the violent tearing of previous incursions that the Dark Lord inflicted now, but it was still a painful intrusion in his mind, but Snape had prepared: all the images of the violent capture flowing freely, the shape-shifting of Stacy, the attack of Lupin's wolf on his stomach – all true memories, but without context. At the memory of attack of the wolf and the very real pain and terror, the Dark Lord pulled out and stared at Snape.

"Who healed you?"

"Lupin healed my shoulder and my stomach, my Lord. I don't know how. I had ... I was ... unconscious from pain. I could not have escaped had he not done so. He told me where my wand and the others were hidden and the way out. I freed your followers and led them back here." He exhaled heavily. "I did not bring the werewolves. I do not trust them my Lord."

The Dark Lord nodded. Then his mouth curled up in a supercilious leer.

"Did he … _use_ you, Severus?" the Dark Lord asked, his red eyes alight with malice. "Revenge himself upon you for your treatment of him when I gave him to you?"

Snape recognised this for a trap. The Dark Lord would never accept a Death Eater despoiled by a half-breed, any more than a werewolf pack would accept the reverse.

"As I _..._?" Snape feigned horror. "No, my Lord. He is still convinced I helped him to escape from you. His Obliviation holds. He remains pathetically grateful. But Idris was content to injure me to make me beneath your contempt. He knew it would be punishment enough for me. Lupin could do nothing to stop his vengeance for the mate Greyback slaughtered before."

"Of course, Severus. I understand your distress. But consider this: had I not ordered you to release him, perhaps you would be dead now. You are still trusted by the Order's pet. That is good. But can I ... can _you_ be one of mine any longer?" The question was rhetorical, but Snape would not let him come to the wrong conclusion.

"Do not drive me from your sight, my Lord. I am not yet a beast, nor will I change at the moon!" he cried.

The Dark Lord regarded him coldly and Snape knew he was considering his need for the ritual.

"I will not have your blood."

"Of course not, my Lord." Snape's eyes snapped to the floor quickly, acknowledging his inferiority.

"I will not have you near me at the full moon."

"I understand, my Lord. I wish it were different. But I hope I can ... at least ... continue work on the poison. Allow me that small mercy at least, my Lord."

The Dark Lord made a soft noise, as if recollecting the poison for the first time. Snape had to make him see his utility, if he was to survive this interview. Thereafter, come the death of Dumbledore, his value would never be questioned again, he thought with disgust.

"Yes ... yes," the Dark Lord sighed sibilantly, "We have allowed that to slip, haven't we." Then he tipped his head to regard Snape again. "Poor Severus." He patted Snape's head. "You have suffered because of Greyback's failure. He has been punished – although perhaps not enough yet."

"I wish I could have overcome the odds, my Lord."

"I need that wandmaker," the Dark Lord said, almost to himself. He rounded on Snape again. "Was there no weakness that you could see?"

"I questioned Lupin carefully as he helped me. There are old protective enchantments, centuries old, residing in druidic magic ..."

The Dark Lord sneered. He had no use for old earth magic. It didn't serve _his_ purposes.

"... and they rarely leave them. Many packs that Greyback has failed to convince now dwell within those wards to augment Idris's numbers. I heard them talk of defeating the Dementors with powerful Patronuses. Even if we had had all your Death Eaters, my Lord, the sheer numbers and the shape shifters ..." Snape shivered. It wasn't even a pretence: he recalled Stacy transforming and it truly frightened him. Snape let the threat of further contaminations hang in the air as the red eyes glowed and the jaw tensed.

"Now is not the time, you are right, Severus. But as we grow in strength, we will return to this. I will not be denied. Not by a filthy beast. But I must continue in my quest to prevent what happened the last time Potter duelled me. Ollivander must do better."

Then the Dark Lord was silent, staring at his wand as he thought. Snape felt as if his heart beat was loud enough for the Dark Lord to hear as his blood pounded through his veins waiting for the Dark Lord's judgement on him. Even if all went according to plan, he knew he would lose the protection from the Dark Lord's correction that the blood-letting had given him, but it would be worth it for the moon. He heard the Dark Lord inhale to speak.

"Rise, Severus. You have been unstinting in your service to me, and you will continue with our project and remain my most useful spy, but you will not be able to supply my _Acutor_ potion. I cannot have such blood in my veins, even though you were ruined in my service."

"Of course not, my Lord. The thought is too appalling to contemplate." Snape stood, but kept his head bowed.

And in the small Occluded compartment of his brain, he wanted to scream that contaminated blood had coursed in his veins for months, but Snape crushed his triumph. Had Snape ever had more difficulty in maintaining his façade than at that moment? He wanted to leap and whoop with joy.

But there would be time enough to celebrate – with Lupin – at the next full moon.

oooOOOooo

After what Snape considered to be an inordinate amount of clucking, Poppy had healed his cheek bone with a flick of her wand and sealed the broken skin the same way, then administered balm to all of his bruises and gave him internal injury potion. The application of the burn salve to his midriff had been the most welcome and, true to Alphard's word, the welts were healed immediately. By morning, the worst of the bruising would be reduced, the lesser bruising disappearing all together. His body felt almost light now it was relieved of the pain and stiffness.

Tippy brought him a change of clothes and he left the infirmary to find Dumbledore to report on his mission, but he was once again away from the school. He let Minerva know he had returned. Of course, his face still had the remnants of injury and she pulled him in to check that he was okay and pressed a glass of malt whisky on him. He accepted it gratefully, and sat with her for an hour as she told him of the goings-on at school over the weekend. She didn't ask where he had been, accepting that it must be Order-related. When finally, he excused himself, as she promised she would let him know when Dumbledore returned, she said, "Be careful, Severus," with a small touch of her hand to his. It wasn't much, but for Minerva - it was much. What would she think of him when _that time_ came? He found he minded that she would hate him. He minded a great deal.

Once in his own chamber, he called Lupin through the mirror, whose drawn face brightened to see Snape's face healed and that he was safe in his own chambers.

"Did he punish you, Severus? Please tell me the truth."

"No, beloved. But Greyback will need a great deal of my post-Cruciatus potion." Snape chuckled unpleasantly then smiled softly at Lupin gently reproving expression. "I will be free at the moon, Remus. He accepted it all."

As Lupin's ravishing smile spread across his face, Snape heart warmed as he gazed at the face he loved so.

They talked of the immense happenings of the weekend. The Dark Lord was once again denied. The wand only Idris could make for him would never be his. Snape could only think that Ollivander would be pressed into service once more but Ollivander couldn't hear Wandsong to make a devastating weapon to defeat Potter's wand. Surely Potter had to be safe on that score. And personally, Snape had allied himself with the uncle of Sirius Black – something beyond even his own wild imaginings – to work towards keeping their loved ones healthy.

After they had said their farewells, Snape took a long bath, his first proper cleansing since Friday morning, his muscles relaxing in the heated herbs and oils. Tomorrow was Monday, and he would teach the students just as if the raging battle of the Light at the base of an ancient mountain had never happened.

He lay on his bed and looked through the enchanted window Lupin had made for him. Tomorrow he would see the dawn, but already he felt there was a new dawn for them.

He allowed his head to fall back as his body gradually released the tension of the last two days and their tumultuous events, of regaining the moon and putting aside his most desperate fear of a second mate and the rekindled hope of healing - maybe even curing - his beloved. He smiled as he fell into the oblivion of exhausted sleep.

 

* * *

_A/N: How does Idris know about Voldemort's wand? How did Riddle get hold of Idris's mother's wand? Find out in my other story, "Old Friend"._

 


	91. Deflection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes from Chapter 18 of HBP are in bold and © J.K. Rowling

The following days passed more slowly than Snape could credit as he became impatient for the full moon.

When they spoke on the Monday evening, Lupin had insisted on every detail of the meeting with the Dark Lord, not just between him and Snape, but how Scabior had been questioned as well. They made arrangements through the mirror for Tippy to take Wolfsbane to Lupin. Snape would very much like to have seen the reaction of Tippy, and indeed to Tippy's appearance in the werewolf camp, and hoped she had been in no way frightened. When she returned, he asked if all had gone well.

"Master Alf is a very discerning gentleman who sent Professor Snape his regards and thanked Tippy and made sure Master Lupin drank every drop, although Master Lupin really doesn't like it at all, and said to tell Professor Snape that he should work with Master Alf on a palatability potion although Tippy is sure she doesn't know what one of _those_ could be because Tippy has never produced anything for Master Lupin that makes his face do this ..." and she doubled over and made exaggerated gagging gestures and then stood up, smiling innocently.

"I think ... that's quite enough, Tippy," said Snape in his most severe tone, although his mouth twitched at the corners as she covered her mouth and Disapparated with a soft pop. So, it appeared that a werewolf encampment held no horrors for this particular house-elf either. He should have known. At least, he would know Lupin's Wolfsbane would be delivered safely and that the pack would not prevent Lupin taking it.

They spoke every night. One night, he had even spoken to Alphard to be reassured that Lupin would be fit enough to leave Snowdonia and Apparate to London by the full moon on Friday. It was certainly true that Lupin's pallor had greatly improved and, if Lupin was to be anywhere other than with him, at least he was with friends who knew the truth of them. It made Snape feel oddly safe himself.

During the day, however, every class to Snape was a nuisance, an obstruction to be surmounted and, by Friday, few escaped his impatience as he was positively charged with anticipation. He even had to tolerate Defence lessons with Potter, whose inability to cast defensive spells non-verbally was now verging on ridiculous for Snape and he found Potter particularly irksome. Snape baited Potter and Weasley mercilessly in class and would continue to do so until the boy mastered it. Any day now the Dark Lord could come for him: he couldn't always rely on _Expelliarmus!_ Snape would have said that spell couldn't possibly work for him again, but the conversation with Idris had given him pause for thought on that score. Even if he had an advantage in Lily's protection, that would only be against the Dark Lord. There were plenty of Death Eaters who wished him ill who could easily forget the Dark Lord's strictures that none should harm Potter but him.

As Snape watched the boy's face contort ridiculously yet again, he wondered why this ability appeared to elude him. His mother had been one of the first in their year to master non-verbal spells and Snape remembered sourly that the skill certainly hadn't eluded James Potter for long either. He almost resolved to discuss it with Lupin, but Lupin would probably suggest that Snape give Prince Potter one-to-one coaching. _Heaven forfend!_ Anyway, he didn't like discussing Potter with Lupin at all, let alone when Snape had very, very different things on his mind for this particular night.

By the time he arrived at their flat after lessons had ended, he was beyond excited. Lupin had not yet arrived so Snape made himself a cup of tea and then went to wait in their bedroom. He had already decided that he wouldn't wait fully clothed. Usually, undressing was part of the eroticism of the full moon night – how Lupin commanded him to undress would always send shivers of expectation and excitement through him. But today, it reminded him too much of how he had shredded his own clothes for verisimilitude for the Dark Lord; he couldn't find that sexual when it had happened so recently. No. He undressed and waited in their bed, a fluttering of exhilaration beginning in his stomach for this time of each month when he and Lupin could demonstrate physically all the aspects of their love: forceful – tender - demanding and giving. Even the waiting thrilled him.

He heard the catch of the door, and his own breath caught with it. Lupin didn't call out to him. Snape closed his eyes. He could picture Lupin catching Snape's scent. Then he heard the clink of the Wolfsbane phial, and knew he had downed his potion and pictured him again leaving the empty phial on the counter and walking purposefully to their bedroom and he heard Lupin padding across the carpet and caught the pungent full moon musk. Snape opened his eyes and inhaled sharply again to see Lupin standing over him, his want so evident in his eyes.

"Severus."

It was like the whisper of the wind, and Snape's skin prickled all over his body even as Lupin pulled back the bed covers.

Lupin's eyes devoured Snape's body, lingering in those places where he had last seen so many injuries. Then, he disrobed and sat next to Snape leaning over him, his hand lingering on Snape's cheek that had been so badly hurt. It was such a soft gesture for the day of the full moon. Then with such gentleness, Lupin kissed that cheek and then his jaw where Idris had gripped it, then his throat, then his shoulder and finally the gouge scars on his midriff. The kisses were light, but expressive, each one unerringly finding the site of the injuries, making Snape gasp as he wondered if Lupin had imprinted them in his mind. Only once Lupin had made that pilgrimage did he pull himself over Snape's body to kiss his lips.

It was gentle at first, sweet and soft, his fingers playing in Snape's hair, lips gently nipping at lips; then their kisses became more searching, more urgent, both of their hands pulling at each other's hair and skin, pressing for closeness – demanding it.

And then there was the change in the air that told Snape the werewolf in Lupin needed to claim his mate. Within an instant of that realisation, Lupin closeness became overwhelming, his kisses claiming him as his he pulled Snape's body towards himself, greedily grasping his hips in his large hands, a low needy growl in his throat and Snape's will drained from him, surrendering completely to Lupin's hunger, mirroring it in his own want, giving himself over completely as Lupin drained them both with his hand, quickly and harshly, as he bit along Snape's shoulder, growling out his first orgasm as Snape moaned and shuddered with his own, knowing it was only preliminary to what was to happen now.

Lupin said his name again, but now it was a demand, hoarsely spoken, as he turned Snape around, hands matching his voice as they pushed against Snape's back, making him arch and moan with anticipation as teeth nipped up his spine and hands dragged down his body, stroking around his small cheeks and then questing fingers began to probe him, pushing against his sweet spot, unerringly found, making Snape groan loudly with increasing delirium.

"My Severus. My own sweet Severus," rasped Lupin as he pressed his own erection against Snape's skin as he excited him with his fingers, as Snape silently pleaded, drenched in thick, hot, hard desire that pained his groin. Lupin removed his fingers and pressed himself to Snape as his hand wrapped around Snape's desperately hard cock. Snape's shoulders began to tremble in anticipation as he felt Lupin's breath ghost over his neck and then find the Claiming bite. He tongued it firmly and deliberately as Snape drew in his breath harshly and then Lupin bit and thrust in at the same time.

Snape cried out at the flare of pure, white fire that coursed through him as he braced himself against the wall so he could feel Lupin as deeply as possible as his long, hard thrusts filled him so completely, so perfectly, saying Snape's name like a prayer in time with his hips and hand, now so hard and strong, the fire burning so fiercely in Snape that his mind was gone in a hot, heavy fug and all he knew was that fire burning brighter and hotter, and his own delirious cries answering Lupin's until the rhythm was gone and the thrusts became frenzied and wild and Lupin bit once more with a guttural growl. Snape's orgasm was as fierce and sharp as his shout, as Lupin emptied into him as their wanton thrusting slowed and Lupin held on to Snape's body as it weakened, folding into Lupin's arms with that final release.

Lupin murmured loving words to Snape as he cradled his trembling, damp body close to him, and Snape's complete physical satisfaction could only be heightened by the delight he felt as Lupin swaddled them both under the covers to rest before the moon rose – no cleansing to remove the evidence of them, no fevered farewells to send Lupin on his way to _her_ or Snape on his way to _him_ – just them - together. A moan escaped from Snape's throat as he pushed himself closer, perfectly contented as strong arms held him more firmly in response.

They slept for just an hour before it was time, and then both knelt and Snape held Lupin as he hadn't for months through his transformation. Although the breaking and tearing of bones, and heartfelt cries of pain never failed to appal Snape, he knew now he could never want to be anywhere else but with his love, as he watched the wolf take shape and settle.

Snape couldn't help the crooked smile that slowly crept on his face to see Lupin's wolf form after all these months. He held the wolf's face in his hands and then scratched the fur behind his ears and then the wolf jumped off the bed and Snape, pulling on his trousers, followed. Lupin went to his robes and nuzzled them and turned to look at Snape.

_Alphard gave me these papers for you – the ones you copied._

Snape broke into a wide smile. How he had missed even this: communing with the wolf on a full moon. No-one else had this!

"Do you want to see them? Shall we look at them now?"

 _Yes!_ and the wolf yipped at the same time, making Snape almost light-headed with happiness. He pulled the scrolls from Lupin's robe and, with his hand in the wolf's crest, they walked to their living room and Snape Summoned a bottle of Butterbeer and a bowl.

"Do you want some?" he asked the wolf who was circling Snape's legs like a playful puppy.

Another yip before Snape caught Lupin's eyes for a resounding, _Yes please!_

Snape poured some in the bowl and drank from the bottle and Lupin lapped from the bowl. Snape felt absurdly happy, lighter than he could remember for a long time as he settled himself carefully on the settee and the wolf jumped up and flopped all over him, rolling over.

"Dozy dog," Snape chuckled, as he scratched Lupin's tummy and the wolf wriggled happily on his back for a while, and Snape knew it was Lupin's way of showing him as was as happy as Snape was to be together at this time.

"Do you want to hear what Alphard has to say then?" said Snape, with mock impatience.

Lupin stopped wriggling and rolled over to sit up attentively, and Snape felt that, even in this form, Lupin just might be mocking him with his extreme attentiveness.

"Cheeky," he murmured, feigning annoyance.

 _All ears, Severus._ The wolf's wolf ears snapped forward and backwards, then he settled down, placing his forepaws and head on Snape's lap, still managing the canine equivalent of amusement somehow as the golden eyes held Snape's own. _Tell me then, Severus._

For hours, Snape went through the scrolls and summarised the experiments Alphard was doing as he caressed the wolf softly, Lupin asking questions whenever their eyes met and Snape answering quickly, excited now, more than ever, as things seemed to be going their way for the first time in months.

It was well after 3 o'clock when they simply could stay awake no longer and Snape led Lupin back to the bed, and spread the transformation blanket over it. The wolf jumped up and circled until the blanket was just so and then Snape curled himself around the wolf. They were asleep within a heartbeat.

Moonset was late as the winter nights were so very long and Snape had to go to the school for the first Apparition lessons for that year, but Lupin had nothing worse than a few bruises which were easily dealt with, and Snape left him to sleep away his exhaustion, with Tippy to tend to his breakfast and lunch.

The day never seemed to go more slowly, and the thought of Lupin waiting for Snape at their flat this first day of the waning moon made the wait to return to him all the more excruciating.

It seemed to Snape to be the very nadir of bathos that after the rollercoaster of emotions he had had over the last seven days that this day, the first day of February, would be almost laughably banal. That said, he wasn't laughing. He could have been spending this day with Lupin but Dumbledore had secured his promise to be at school as much as possible. In the run-up to the inevitable, he wanted Snape to curtail any lengthy day-time absences so no-one would raise an objection to his appointment as Headmaster when the time came.

He was trapped at breakfast by Sybil, who droned on about the omens of the lightning-struck tower, even as Minerva smirked like the cat that got the cream at his discomfort. It was shaping up to be one of those days that he loathed with a passion.

He caught up with some more marking in his office, and then checked on the enchantment he had on the Slytherin common room for any excursions Malfoy might have made, but whenever he had left the common room, he had been with Crabbe and Goyle. Surely, he wouldn't be planning anything with those two gormless dunderheads?

Then Snape was trapped by Slughorn in the staff room, praising bloody Potter for _not_ creating the antidote he had been assigned, but producing a bezoar instead! Aside from the rank disregard of instructions and bare-faced cheek, neither of which Snape could have endured, it was the first basic lesson that Snape taught to first years: how did _that_ make Potter clever? Snape fumed that Slughorn's favouritism still hadn't changed after all these years.

Apparition lessons began on time, and each Head of House stood before their own sixth formers. There was old Wilkie Twycross, who seemed just as ancient and just as insubstantial as he had to Snape when he had taught him to Apparate as a sixth year. Every year, Wispy (as Minerva always called him in the sanctity of her office) came to the Great Hall, and every year, the lessons were always interspersed with Splinchings and mutterings. For the Heads of Houses, the trick was to watch the students like hawks to ensure they were there to mend that damage as quickly as possible: if not treated correctly and expeditiously, a bad Splinch could be horrific and debilitating.

He saw Malfoy edge over to Crabbe and start whispering angrily, and just for a moment, Snape wondered if he had been wrong to assume Malfoy would not include Crabbe on any plan of his but then he heard Minerva –

 **'Malfoy, be quiet and pay attention!'** she **barked.**

 **Everyone looked round. Malfoy had flushed a dull pink; he looked furious as he stepped away from Crabbe.** Snape glowered at Malfoy, who still steadfastly refused to meet his eyes, discomfiting Snape even more. He would dearly have liked to have confronted Malfoy, but it would have to wait until after these lessons. Still, he couldn't help the feeling of disquiet that this boy, who had always had his father's talent for currying favour and greasing palms, had become the most recalcitrant of his students now – almost as if he had nothing to lose – and there lay the problem. But he had no time to think as the students started jostling for places and t **he Heads of House moved among the students, marshalling them into position and breaking up arguments** , although why being near the front was an issue for the more needy of pupils, Snape never fully understood.

Suddenly, it was time for them to try their first Apparition and each student, without exception, looked suitably terrified. He shared a quick look with Minerva and then they quickly returned their attention to the students pirouetting and leaping and losing balance with results of varying degrees of hilarity. He wondered if all the teachers had laughed in the staff room at his year too. Looking at Minerva now, was she just more jaded with her many years of teaching, or had she always had that secret streak of amusement? He suspected she and Pomona were even worse when they were younger. The Heads walked around again, checking that none had hurt themselves, but no-one had achieved anything remotely near to Apparition, nor did they with their second or third attempts. It was ever thus.

On the fourth attempt, it was Susan Bones who managed to Apparate into her hoop, leaving **her left leg still standing five feet away** , as she **screech** ed **in pain.** **The Heads of House converged on her** as Minerva cast the powerful and complex charm to reverse the sundering of the Splinch. With a **bang and a puff of purple smoke,** Bones **was sobbing** but **reunited with her leg**. Each of the teachers asked her if she was okay, and she nodded, still shocked, but wanting to continue.

"So very like her aunt," Minerva said quietly as they walked back to the front together, as the lesson carried on for another hour but no more Splinchings occurred, and certainly no Apparitions. As everyone gathered to leave, Snape strode towards Malfoy who tried to duck out of sight but Snape was faster.

"Not so fast, Draco," Snape said softly. "I would like you to accompany me back to the common room ..."

"I have something to do," Malfoy ground out between gritted teeth, as Goyle and Crabbe fell into step behind him.

"No, Mr. Malfoy. You most certainly do not," said Snape, dangerously. "Walk with me to the common room." His tone brooked no dissent. "Or walk with me to the Headmaster's office. The choice is yours." It was a risk Snape felt he had to take: Malfoy knew expulsion would mean his torture or death at the hands of the Dark Lord for failure. Snape had to try to curtail Malfoy's outright disobedience and win back his trust, but the boy seemed determined to shut him out. _Damn Bellatrix._

"Very well ... _Professor_ ," Malfoy sneered, and Snape stiffened with offence then leant into Malfoy.

"Watch yourself, Draco," he hissed so only Malfoy could hear. "You cannot achieve your assigned task if you are in back in bosom of your loving family home, can you?"

Snape knew the veiled threat had been cruel: Narcissa may have been in their family home, but so was the Dark Lord and his followers and they were enjoying the utter humiliation of the Malfoy family. Malfoy's jaw worked as his eyes narrowed, but Snape's stare did not waver. Malfoy's eye contact broke and he shook his head abruptly, even as Crabbe and Goyle looked on in confusion.

"Very well then," said Snape and walked behind the three until they were safely ensconced in the common room, and his charm was activated again. He returned to his office, ever more hopeless of getting the boy to trust him with his plans. Part of him knew he should stay at the castle to keep tabs on him, but - damn it! - he was entitled to his life too. And if Potter hadn't had that infernal map, he would have smuggled Lupin into his quarters instead of leaving the premises. Quite possibly, he would never let Lupin leave. He sighed heavily as he finished his marking of papers, every now and then checking the charm, and then, once evening came, and the security tightened on the castle making any evening jaunts for Malfoy too risky, he wrapped himself in his travelling cloak and made his way to the castle's gates and Disapparated to London.

He let himself in to find Lupin waiting for him by the door to welcome him with a kiss and take his travelling cloak and to lead him to a table laid for them to dine together, with elf-made wine already open. Snape could help but smile that Lupin wanted this night to be as special as he did.

As they dined and talked, Lupin touched him almost constantly – light touches to his hand or thigh, or a gossamer touch to his cheek or to push Snape's hair behind his ear. All these small things told him how much more relaxed Lupin was feeling. Perhaps, it was the near-perfect transformation the night before; perhaps the promise of love-making to come (Snape's stomach clenched at the thought); perhaps it was the promise of a few days of rest at their flat together; perhaps it was that Snape no longer had to undertake the blood ritual. But for Snape, it was that Tonks would be out of the picture – _their_ picture. The only third person Snape wanted in their lives was their child - and suddenly, even that possibility didn't seem so far away ...

They talked of what Lupin would do now. He had spent so long seeking out the packs and the lone wolves for Dumbledore, but his last beating at the fists of the London werewolves had really been too much for Snape. With everything that had gone on at the mountain, he really hadn't had the chance to think about it, but since he had been back at school, at nights he had thought of his beautiful Remus being beaten by the savage underground werewolves and it made his blood boil. There was simply nothing to be gained; they would not be turned to the Light, no matter what Dumbledore thought. He wanted Lupin to stop now even though he knew they would argue about his own spying with the Dark Lord if he brought it up.

Snape had broached the subject gently, by way of a break – of recuperation. After all, Lupin had travelled from pack to pack and on to the dangerous rogues for over a year. Rest and recuperation, yes. Lupin seemed amenable to this. In truth, he looked weary. He confessed it.

"I'd like some time, Severus. To be with you and rest a while, away from the squalor I've seen. Do you think I'm wrong to want it? Am I ungrateful?"

"No, no," replied Snape softly. "You do more than enough. You have brought many over, at great risk to yourself!" Snape stopped himself becoming too impassioned. If he touched on the subject of the physical dangers Lupin ran, that line of thinking would only turn on himself. All he wanted now was for Lupin to stop and stay here. "It's time to rest. And I don't deny, Remus, I miss you. It would mean so much to me to have you home." He stroked Lupin's face tenderly, gazing deep into his eyes, pleading with him wordlessly to be here, to be safe.

"It would be wonderful," murmured Lupin. "We've never really had the chance just to be us, have we? Not really."

"No, we haven't."

"I suppose I could speak to Bill, see if there's any casual work at Gringott's. Or perhaps some research work."

"If there isn't, you mustn't worry. We have savings," said Snape quickly, knowing how Lupin always worried about money, even though their savings looked quite healthy. After all, what could they spend it on in these troubled times? "You'll still be available to the Order and you could help me with my research."

"Hmm!" Lupin smiled. "I've always wanted to tackle the old Magick texts at the Bodleian, but I've never had time. Do you know, they've got antiquarian texts on magic that Borgin would sell what's left of his soul for? I'm sure they'd have works on the origins of Lycanthropy," Lupin said excitedly, and on they talked, laying plans and strategies, the evening passing in a haze of fine food and wine, Snape losing himself in the only person's company he craved and the wonderful thought of Lupin safe at home until, with one more soft touch to Snape's thigh, Snape held his own hand over Lupin's and kissed him longingly. He could not wait one moment longer to make Lupin his.

Lupin understood, returning the kiss and following as Snape lead him to the bedroom - undressing him - caressing him - adoring him – Snape took it all as greedily as Lupin had the night before, but he was gentle in his urgency as he pushed into Lupin's yielding body, resting there just to feel himself enveloped so completely, stopping himself to savour the heated tightness as Lupin told him how he loved him as he wrapped his legs around him to pull him in closer and deeper. Lupin's hands never left Snape's face, keeping him near to kiss him, deeply and almost reverentially, tasting him almost, the delicious noises in his throat deepening with each of Snape's searching thrusts and his throaty cries whenever Snape thrilled him.

To hear these sounds and to watch Lupin's face, his lidded eyes, dilated pupils and moist lips calling his name, was as sensual to Snape as the feel of being sheathed inside him, as he rocked his hips, controlling himself just so he could take Lupin to the brink slowly and deliciously and watch his pleasure mount, feel it in the heat inside him and the grasping of his hands and the reciprocal thrusts becoming more demanding, his pleas to Snape to drive deeper, never denied, until they both writhed together, forcefully thrusting until they both cried out, as Lupin's came over Snape's hand as he bucked and shuddered his own orgasm into Lupin and then rested on his body, their mouths open against each other as they both struggled to breathe, but in the most satisfied and content of ways.

oooOOOooo

Before the Order meeting on the Sunday, Lupin and Snape met with Dumbledore in the library, and Lupin told Dumbledore he would not be going back to the London werewolves.

"If I go back now, there'll only be trouble. I was making little headway as it was ..."

"Even so," interrupted Dumbledore, "if just one or two can be swayed, it all lessens Greyback's numbers."

"Remus would have no chance of avoiding violence if you send him back now!" snapped Snape, a knot of apprehension starting in his stomach that Lupin's seemingly endless gratitude to Dumbledore might prevail over their plans.

Dumbledore steepled his fingers as he regarded the couple before him.

"And what will you do, Remus, with all this spare time?"

It may have sounded like an innocent question to anyone else, but Snape knew differently.

"Do. Not!" Snape said warningly, knowing exactly what Dumbledore was trying to do. If Lupin couldn't earn his living, Dumbledore could work on Lupin's desperate guilt about not paying his own way. "We have money put aside. _We_ will be fine."

Snape saw Lupin's humiliation in the colouring of his cheeks and his downcast look and Snape's mouth became thinner still in annoyance.

"Give us a little peace, Albus," Snape said softly. "Don't you think Remus has done enough with these people? Please, there is only so much a ready-made spy can do. He needs a rest."

He felt the tips of Lupin's fingers touch one of his hands in thanks.

"Very well, Remus," said Dumbledore after a while. "May I rely on you if intelligence comes of individual werewolves you may be able to help?"

Snape sensed a trap, but before he could object, Lupin had smiled with relief. "Of course, Albus. Of course, I will."

oooOOOooo

Lupin reported on the battle to the Order meeting, but most of Snape's part in the victory was withheld as too compromising but he was quite content to bask in his husband's reflected glory as Lupin was repeatedly patted on the back, be it by Moody or Kingsley or Bill. As always, Lupin was modest and occasionally caught Snape's eyes apologetically.

 _Think nothing of it. You deserve it,_ Snape thought back and so the meeting progressed, Snape quietly proud, and unable to show it. But he felt it – very deeply.

He watched as Tonks snatched furtive glances at Lupin, her eyes glassy, her nose red. He watched as Lupin, as politely as possible, tried to give her no more attention than anyone else. He saw Molly and Arthur look worriedly at both of them, and Moody scowling at Lupin. When would they get it through their heads that Lupin and Tonks were not a couple? Snape fumed quietly, distracted from Kingsley's and then Dumbledore's report.

When it was all over, as usual, Snape made to leave before the others as he heard Tonks call out to Lupin.

"Remus! Where have you been?" she whispered as Lupin turned back to her. "I came here on Friday ..."

"Hush Dora," Lupin hissed, hating when people pointed out the full moon for all to hear. He stood protectively behind his chair, and managed to catch Snape's look.

_I'll be home as quickly as I can._

Snape gave a small nod and left, his stomach knotted once more.

He thought he would be in for hours of worrying but Lupin was home within half an hour, agitated and cross. Snape poured them both a Firewhiskey as Lupin threw himself onto the settee.

"What was all that about?" asked Snape, trying to keeping his own irritation under control.

Lupin ran his hands through his own hair in annoyance.

"I can't believe it," he said in exasperation. "Apparently, Alastor spoke to her, asked her to keep me safe at the moon but ..." His voice tailed off in exasperation and he pointed at Snape's wand. "Best you look, Severus. I just don't know what to do."

Snape breathed in deeply to steady himself. He had thought they were out of this mess. He held Lupin's face, and cast.

_Legilimens!_

The kitchen at Grimmauld Place re-formed about them as Lupin stood behind a chair, Tonks just inches away from him.

"When you weren't here, I was so worried. I didn't mean what I said. You must have known that – I would never do that to you!" she said, her voice a gabbling whisper as her eyes darted to the others who were leaving in dribs and drabs. "Mad-Eye's been telling me that you need me too ..."

 _I think she rather misinterpreted what Moody said,_ Snape thought huffily. _I expect he said you needed her help through transformations – nothing else._

_She believes she has this great passion. Perhaps, she thinks it's barrier-breaking like her mother and father's was. A great devotion that will overcome all obstacles. A romantic notion ..._

_And yet her mother loathes werewolves – fears the Lydiard Curse ..._ Snape interjected.

_...That's precisely the point, Severus. Dora is fighting the prejudices of her family, just as her mother in her turn did. Well, with David at least. I'm just the rebound. I tried to make her understand. Dear Merlin, Severus – she hardly even knows me._

The scene continued to unfold as the two of them stood, Lupin still keeping the chair as a barrier between them now alone at Grimmauld Place.

"How could you let me worry like that? I was so upset when you weren't here! I thought something dreadful had happened to you! Where were you?"

"Dora. You left last month telling me you couldn't stay with me because I said I didn't love you. I'm sorry I hurt your feelings, truly I am, but it _is_ how I feel. You don't have the right now to say that I have worried you by not being at number 12," Lupin said earnestly, appealing to her reason.

"When Professor Dumbledore asked me to help you all those months ago, Remus, I was so unsure, so afraid it would hurt me even more being with another werewolf at the full moon. But I see now, he knew ... don't you see? ... knew how we would match ... how we'd be good together ..."

Snape felt Lupin's rising panic that Tonks was as good as manufacturing a love story around them. If he could just confess his lover lived, not just Claimed, but bonded too, she'd be hurt, but she would see her mistake, but how could he? She would just think Lupin was pretending to deflect her, being noble to save her from his condition.

"Even if that were true, Dora, you must see that I'm too old for you. Too dangerous."

"But I don't care about any of those things ... I've told you before ..."

"But I do! You can find someone younger, whole, who can give you the type of life you should have. Like ... like you had with David ... all the things you had in common ..."

 _I was trying to be kind, Severus. I don't seem to be able to convince her. I have to remember that, without her, you may never have made it through those moons that we were apart – don't you understand? We_ owe _her. I must at least try to be kind._ Snape could feel how wretched Lupin felt to bring David into the conversation.

"But I want you ..."

"No, Dora. Can't you see? Don't you see?" Lupin's tone became gentle. "You've never really given yourself the chance to get over David ... you just _think_ you love me ..."

CRACK!

Her slap resounded on his cheek, and Snape burnt with the desire to slap her back, and yet he only felt Lupin's mortification, guilt even that he had driven her to this.

 _You can't possibly blame yourself!_ Snape thought in anger.

_We asked too much of her. It's our fault ... my fault. We both saw the signs but I needed to protect you ..._

_No Remus! You cannot be responsible for her rebounding in this way. I won't let you._

Tonks's bottom lip trembled and it was patently clear she wanted to embrace him, but Lupin had moved away, the red imprint of her hand glowing on his cheek.

"Remus, I'm sorry ..." she started towards him.

"No, Dora. I'm sure I deserved it." He moved further away from her. "And I promise you, you won't always feel like this. Don't you see: this isn't how a love story should be?"

"It isn't a love _story_. Remus! Stop treating me like a child! I know what I want. I want to be with you. I can love enough for both of us ..."

So saying, she flung her arms around his neck to kiss him, but Lupin grabbed her wrists, Snape could feel Lupin didn't want to hurt her, but he was desperate to get away.

"No Dora! No. You can't. Please understand that. You can't. I'm sorry," Lupin gasped. "I don't love you. I'm sorry."

Even as tears began to well in her eyes, Lupin grabbed his cloak and fled the kitchen to make his way back to flat, with Tonks's voice calling him back desperately.

Snape cancelled the spell and Lupin let his head drop in his hands.

"I thought this was over," murmured Snape, even as he told himself it didn't matter. The moon was theirs again after all.

"So did I, Severus. So did I."

oooOOOoo

Snape sat on the edge of a bed in the hospital wing as Poppy repaired the breaks to his arms that the Dark Lord had inflicted upon him. He almost hadn't been able to Apparate, but he forced himself and just managed the trek to the hospital wing. One thing was for sure: he would not return to Lupin in this state. It wouldn't matter to Lupin that all of the Death Eaters had had the same correction as he. It was the price Snape knew he would pay for the moon. It was cheap, as far as he was concerned. And now Dumbledore stood at the foot of the bed as Snape finished buttoning his robe.

"Had I known that's what you intended, I would have tried to talk you out of it," murmured Dumbledore.

"Nothing could have talked me out of it, Albus," replied Snape, thinking on how wonderful the last full moon had been for both of them. How could he possibly expect Dumbledore to understand that? It wasn't just about sex: it was far deeper than that.

"You should have come to see me ..."

"You were off ... on one of your jaunts before I even left!" snapped Snape, his voice rising. "You're always away. You tell me nothing, and yet I am supposed to entrust my well-being to you – _our_ well-being."

"Do you not trust me, Severus?" asked Dumbledore, softly.

Snape stared at him, the question completely unexpected.

"That was very dangerous to play on your Lycanthropic connection, Severus. You could have been killed."

"It only came to me in Idris's camp. I didn't go there with that intention. Anyway, it was worth the risk," said Snape, his tone very definite.

"Still, perhaps it would have been more ... judicious to have kept your exalted place as the provider of his potion," said Dumbledore, mildly.

"I don't expect you to understand what that situation was doing to me ... to us," Snape barked, cross at the intimation that he had neglected his duty in some way. Just how much did Dumbledore expect Snape to sacrifice? Not his husband, surely?

"It was only one night apart in twenty-nine, Severus. You spend many nights apart."

"Not _that_ night and not so he would spend it with _her_! Ach!" Snape snapped as he flicked his hand and stood quickly turning from Dumbledore, partly embarrassed and partly angry. "You cannot possibly understand. Why should you?" he said dismissively.

"I see," said Dumbledore, softly. "I didn't realise Nymphadora's assistance would be such an issue for you both. I had hoped it would keep you safe – both of you."

Contrition warred with irritation inside Snape. The truth was that it _had_ kept them both safe. Without that second marking, Snape would surely have been found out by now. But it wasn't as simple as that, Snape told himself in his own shame about his ingratitude. Dumbledore did not understand the imperative of the Claiming, the strength of their Bond – what they meant to each other to just throw someone else in with them – someone with emotional troubles of her own.

"Perhaps you just have forgotten what it is to love, Albus. It is too distant for you to recall," said Snape, snidely.

"Perhaps. Perhaps I have," responded Dumbledore. Snape wasn't sure if he imagined the hurt in Dumbledore's eyes, but he felt the shame again, even more so when Dumbledore continued. "We need to consolidate your position. It has been weakened by what Voldemort considers the taint to your blood, but no matter. Within a few months, your position at Voldemort's right hand side will be unassailable." Snape felt nauseous at the casual reference to the killing he had promised to accomplish. If Dumbledore noticed, he did not show it.

"Until then, we must shore up your position. Between us, we must ensure that you give him real information of advantage from the next few Order meetings so that he is constantly reminded of your usefulness. Sit, Severus, sit," said Dumbledore, impatiently as Snape gawped at him. How could he be so very calm? Snape still could not credit it. He sat back the chair he had just leapt from in a temper as Dumbledore Summoned tea for them as he set out his plans.

"It must be information of great import so he will be deflected from hurting you, but clearly the vital ingredients must be withheld ..." he began. "Your ingenuity will be up to the task, I have no doubt," Dumbledore smiled amiably, robbing Snape of all his righteous indignation in one fell swoop.

 

* * *

 


	92. The Shortest Month

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes from Chapter 33 of DH are in bold and © J.K. Rowling

Dumbledore and Snape had spent some hours discussing the kinds of information that Snape could give to the Dark Lord. Dumbledore couldn't stress enough times that Snape must continually prove his worth to the Dark Lord if he was to avoid serious injuries. Of course, Snape knew this, but he was still touched that Dumbledore considered him. There were times, after all, when Snape wondered if he and Lupin figured at all in Dumbledore's considerations.

"So, to your personal arrangements, Severus," said Dumbledore, Vanishing the tea tray with a small swish of his hand. "Of course I understand that you wish to be with Remus as much as you can and have an alarm system set up with Tippy, but I insist that the students not realise you stay away from school every night. Except for the full moon, you will eat your meals at school, if you please, and not leave until late."

Snape wanted to grumble, but it was a concession from how the conversation had started when Dumbledore had asked that Snape see Lupin in the evenings of the weekends only. Snape had, of course, refused. Dumbledore pointed out yet again that Snape was Head of House and it was his duty to be on call for his students twenty-four hours of the day.

"Well, perhaps if _someone_ hadn't been allowed to retain a certain map, Remus could have stayed with me then we wouldn't be having this discussion," Snape snapped.

Dumbledore regarded Snape over his glasses in a manner Snape always found patronising although its effect was supposed to be kindly, he was sure.

"If circumstances were different, Severus, Remus would be here in his own right as a Professor, would he not, Severus."

Hot shame washed over Snape and he looked away from Dumbledore quickly, his stomach lurching as his skin crawled. Dumbledore always knew how to wound Snape with his own transgressions. Snape's objections were forgotten now in his own mortification and Dumbledore smiled gently.

"Perhaps, it would be helpful if you had your flat connected to the Floo network then you would only be seconds away in either direction," suggested Dumbledore.

Snape shook his head mutely, still feeling the sting of shame. "It would ..." he coughed to clear his throat, "it would compromise the Charm. I prefer it to be like the farmhouse."

"Very well, Severus. We should discuss the Charm before long." Dumbledore's voice was soft, but it made Snape flinch anyway. "We should replace me as your Secret Keeper ..."

"No," responded Snape, more sharply than he intended, but he felt the weight of past guilt and that which was to come almost overwhelming him. "It can reside in each of us when ... when it's time. There is no-one I can trust as I do you."

Dumbledore's gaze never faltered and Snape wondered if he understood that meant there was no other who could withstand the Dark Lord's power and skill for torture and Legilimency. He suspected he did.

oooOOOooo

Their first Monday morning, Lupin helped Snape to dress, tying his cravat and smoothing down his usual severe black robe and buttoning it up with a Charm. Lupin inspected his handiwork critically, only then to pull Snape onto his lap on the bed.

"You still look too delicious buttoned up like this," he murmured into Snape's ear, his breath sending a thrill down Snape's neck, as a Charm undid the buttons with ease. Snape started to wonder how late he would to the Great Hall for breakfast, but the feel of Lupin's lips under his chin banished the thought all together. It was after that that Snape formulated a plan to wake early each day.

Snape and Lupin quickly fell into their own routine. They would wake before dawn so they could spend a couple of hours together. They would make love, shower together, talk, have breakfast, just as if Snape were leaving for a day job. Snape would eat little at Hogwarts in the morning as he had already breakfasted with Lupin. Then, all day he had the thrill of knowing he would eventually be home with Lupin. He ate dinner at Hogwarts because he didn't want Lupin to have to wait until late evening to eat with him but they would have a small late supper together during the week when they would discuss their days together.

It was not quite perfection, but it was as close as Snape could think they would come in these troubled times.

It bothered him still that Lupin couldn't stay with him and the existence of the map still irked him, but Dumbledore had deflected the issue and Snape didn't want to bring it up with him again, but he still had something to say about it to Lupin though that morning over breakfast.

"If you hadn't given Potter that infernal map, you could have stayed secretly with me. Why did you do it?" he asked Lupin one morning over breakfast.

"Because it's his, Severus: a memento of his father."

Snape huffed and took the top off his boiled egg with a severe slice of his knife.

"Why shouldn't he have it? Albus knows about it and doesn't remove it. Perhaps, he thinks Harry should have it to see what's going on in the castle. It's not as if Harry is just an ordinary boy, is it?" said Lupin.

"Oh no, he's so very _special_ ," snarled Snape, unpleasantly.

"Severus! I meant he's targeted by Voldemort and his Death Eaters."

Snape hung his head briefly at his overreaction and patted Lupin's hand and mumbled an apology, but he still felt deeply if he could have got to that map in Potter's fourth year and _seen_ Barty Crouch – they wouldn't have the troubles they had now.

Lupin picked up Snape's hand and pressed it to his lips. Snape knew Lupin didn't want to row over the child. They often had cross words over Potter – nothing major, but what Snape considered Lupin's favouritism, Lupin considered Snape's prejudice. It seemed they couldn't reconcile it, so Lupin would stop any argument with a kiss, his way of telling Snape he loved him but didn't agree. It suited Snape fine for they could both be such obstinate men.

"If I catch him with it ever again, I _will_ confiscate it," said Snape, still aggrieved that no-one else seemed to see the inherent danger in such an item.

"I have no doubt," said Lupin, a small smile playing at his lips. "And I have no doubt, Harry will be extra careful you don't."

oooOOOooo

It had been agreed that Lupin would be available for Order duties, just like every other Order member, but Snape ardently hoped Lupin's spying days were over. It looked as if his prayers were answered when, within a couple of days of asking Bill at the last Order meeting, he confirmed that Gringotts had locum research work that Lupin could undertake. It was on a retainer basis with payment by results, but Lupin was delighted. It was background research work into ancient Coptic curses and, with the retainer, came an unlimited pass to the restricted antiquarian books and papers at the Bodleian Library.

Snape adored seeing how excited and engaged Lupin was, not only with having proper wizarding employment after month upon month of living with squalor and incipient violence, but that he could do research for Snape and Alphard too.

"It is for your benefit, you know," said Snape indulgently when Lupin fired off a series of questions to structure his research how Snape wanted.

"Yes, Severus, of course," smiled Lupin. "But I'm not an apothecary, or a Spell-Worker, to know what you need. In this," he bowed with a ravishing smile, "as in so many other things, I am your servant."

Snape threw a cushion at him, and then proceeded to describe the sorts of historical clues he needed. Lupin, ever the enthusiastic student, took copious notes, making Snape's chest constrict as he was overwhelmed with such affection and also memories of when they had worked together to unravel the Thrall – nearly four years ago! In this though, Lupin would be guided by him – he didn't have the experience of Dark blood curse formation as Snape did.

"Intention is everything, Remus," he said. "If we can somehow trace the first man to be cursed with Lycanthropy and discover who cursed him, and why," he clapped his hands together, "we can begin to ameliorate, maybe even unravel the curse!"

Lupin got up from writing, moved to Snape and dropped his hands on Snape's waist, and smiled softly at him.

"You may not be able to find the originator, Severus. It may be lost in the mists of time." He rubbed his nose against Snape's.

"I know," responded Snape. "But we have to try! I have worked so many curses and counter-curses. I have been so destructive. Perhaps this can be part of my atonement for that."

Lupin sighed and nuzzled into Snape's neck.

"I believe you atone for your past every single day, Severus. _I_ don't seek it from you. I just don't want you to chase a dream for me. If you can do it, I will do everything to help you as long as you promise you won't waste your beautiful life looking for a cure that just may not be possible, just for atonement's sake." He pulled Snape closer, inhaling him deeply. "We have a life to lead together, Severus. Sometimes, we have to accept the hand we're dealt and make the best of it."

Snape cupped Lupin's face in his hands. If Lupin did but know how much Snape needed to atone, and what was yet to come – dear Merlin – what was to come ... He almost couldn't breathe thinking of it.

"You are too accepting sometimes, Remus. I need to try. Do you understand?" he asked, his black eyes searching the soft blue eyes of the man he loved, imagining the wonder of having Lupin cured and never to have his body rent asunder by the moon again.

"I do, Severus. Just ... promise me that this won't be a penance. I want our life together."

How well Lupin seemed to understand Snape's nature. Yes, he could easily become obsessed, but he had Lupin to live for – how could he ignore this wonderful man who would be waiting for him, helping him, motivating him to do better - be better. He certainly never would put anything – let alone research - over loving this man.

oooOOOooo

The Order meeting was more sombre than usual. Kingsley and Moody reported on the latest disappearances. These had doubled over the past month. Muggle-borns were the primary targets, especially those who held any kind of influential position at the Ministry. Snape had been able to get some names from Wilkins, but not nearly all.

"I would have thought you would be better informed," said Tonks, accusingly.

"The Dark Lord trusts no-one with all of his plans," snapped Snape, rising to the implication that he was withholding information.

"I'm sure Severus does his best," interjected Lupin and Snape saw a frown briefly flicker on Dumbledore's features. "Under very trying circumstances, as well."

"So _he_ says," she pouted.

"Perhaps you would like to offer yourself to the Dark Lord, _Miss_ Tonks, and see if you can do any better," hissed Snape.

"Perhaps you reap what you sow," responded Tonks, a sneer almost identical to that of her late cousin on her wan face.

"Dora! What's got into you?" pleaded Lupin. She looked unhappy at the rebuke and Molly patted her hand and whispered something to her. Snape wasn't interested in what she said as he caught Lupin's eyes, absurdly proud that he had rebuked Tonks although he knew Dumbledore would chastise them for it later.

_I suppose if she believes you still tend to me after the full moon, it's jealousy,_ Lupin thought to him.

_Tend to you. Yes, a pretty euphemism._ The thought was almost a seductive murmur, and Lupin actually blushed and Snape had to look away or he would smile ... in company! He coughed as he stared at his hands in his lap and thought instead on those whose names he had obtained were on their way to new lives on the continent and across the Atlantic. Snape's connections in the United States were proving very useful and they, in turn, also had relocation contacts in Canada. Bill and Charlie had a number of continental connections that were willing and able to assist and Bill reported on those. The sanction of Dumbledore, of course, blessed any introduction and smoothed the way of official channels being secured. Dumbledore gave the details of these but, of course, those relocations assisted by Snape were not divulged for the sake of his cover.

He saw the hostile looks he often got from Moody or Tonks, Hestia or Daedalus. Sometimes, even Molly looked unsure of him. Did it matter to him: other people's good opinions? Sometimes, he found it did. It really did, but when he looked up again and saw those blue eyes, a comforting warmth spread through him that he really only needed Lupin. That was all he needed.

oooOOOooo

"How, Severus, how?" the Dark Lord hissed. "The Order is weak! How can they get these people away before my people have got to them?"

"I don't know, my Lord. Perhaps, they guess that you will target the Mudbloods?" He hoped he looked suitably bemused.

"With Thicknesse under the Imperius curse, I expected Magical Law Enforcement to be up to the task of preventing escapees."

"He is but one man in a civil service of ineptitude, my Lord," said Snape smoothly. The Dark Lord paused in his pacing to regard Snape.

"You are right, of course." He moved closer, soundlessly. "Have you been able to find out how they are smuggling them out of the country?"

"We discussed this at the Order meeting last night, my Lord. No one person has all the contacts for the various underground networks that are used. It is Dumbledore himself who pulls together the disparate strings and facilitates all the documents, portkeys and permissions, together with any magical visas." It wasn't technically true, but it would divert the Dark Lord's attention away from those individuals who did have the contacts.

"Pity," the Dark Lord hissed, and then he smirked. "It will not be an obstacle for long though – will it?"

"No, my Lord."

"How very foolish of the old man not to delegate – when his time comes, all his contacts will be lost." The Dark Lord's white visage contorted with an ugly smile. "Such a shame." He patted Snape's head. "Stand, Severus."

Snape stood, his knees a little weak from having been on them for an hour giving as many explanations as he could for any Death Eater failures, although there weren't nearly enough of them for the Order's comfort.

"Greyback will be recovered fully soon," said the Dark Lord. "I thought perhaps a show of force of our werewolves so Dumbledore will not think them beaten. The cur may have been chased away by his own kind in Snowdonia, but he still has the power to terrify here. And perhaps a few Turned Mudbloods and half-bloods will focus _The Daily Prophet_ 's attention on how important blood purity is."

"A show of force, my Lord?" Snape smiled, as if in anticipation. "Of what kind, if I may ask?"

"Indeed you may, Severus, for you will need to liaise with Greyback about the next scheduled visit of students to Hogsmeade."

"At Hogsmeade, my Lord?" Snape had to stop himself yelping in shock. "My Lord! Because of the attempt on a student's life with the Rosier Necklace, security has been tightened considerably and the trip to Hogsmeade has already has been cancelled." _It hasn't, but it is now,_ Snape thought, his heart hammering that he was nearly so very badly wrong-footed.

"It has? How disappointing. We will have to look for our werewolf friend's opportunities elsewhere."

oooOOOooo

It was days before Snape could deliver his information to Dumbledore. When Dumbledore finally returned, he refused to tell Snape where he had been, merely commenting in that maddening manner of his that it was a thrilling tale, but not one to be told just yet.

Of course, Dumbledore immediately cancelled the visit of Hogsmeade and quickly passed the word on to all the members of the Order that Greyback and his werewolves would be seeking victims at the full moon. His previous _modus operandi_ had been to place himself near his victims just before moonrise. Snape made it his business to try to obtain the potential victims' identities from Wilkes, if he could and then Dumbledore notified Kingsley, Tonks and Moody to try to find them to protect them.

In the meantime, Snape once again cornered Draco and kept him behind after their Defence class.

"What now?" snapped Malfoy.

"Do not speak to me that way, Draco," said Snape dangerously, "or it will not be the Dark Lord you have to fear."

Malfoy sneered. "You vowed to protect me. You can't hurt me."

_Odious boy._

"I want to know what you're up to. I promised your mother I would assist you. She asks me all the time. Why do you let her worry so? We can't afford another mistake like the necklace ..."

"We? There is no 'we'. I've got plenty of plans. Mother will be just fine when I've succeeded. Then you'll see who is the Dark Lord's most favoured servant," spat Malfoy petulantly and grabbed his books and raced from the room, leaving Snape staring after him in astonishment.

oooOOOooo

Valentine's Day was a Friday, half way through February and the first day of the waxing of the moon. Tonight, Snape had advised Dumbledore, he would be dining with his husband. He ignored Dumbledore's comment about never realising Snape was so romantic; he ignored the rather smug smile Dumbledore gave him. Anyway, he told himself, he wasn't romantic; Lupin was. And Lupin wanted him home for a special Valentine's Day dinner.

He arrived before Lupin, delicious smells wafting through the flat from the kitchen, where doubtless Tippy was creating her masterpieces. She came rushing out.

"Professor Snape! Welcome home!" She bowed low and took his travelling cloak from him. "Such a wonderful dinner Tippy has cooked for her masters tonight for their special night."

"I hope you haven't festooned your creations with hearts and flowers," quipped Snape. Tippy's eyes went wide and then she looked at Snape side-on through narrowed eyes.

"Professor Snape is teasing Tippy. Come along now." She shooed Snape, glowering at her in apprehension of heart-shaped pies, into the living room and then brought him a gin and tonic. When had he ever drunk a gin and tonic?

"Master Lupin's orders," said Tippy with a firm nod of her head. "An aperitif." She padded back to the kitchen.

He sipped it. It was nice. He could taste the juniper and the quinine. He looked at the drink appreciatively and inwardly shrugged. Yes, it had a sharpness that cleansed the palette, he supposed. It was a very Muggle thing to have though.

Then Lupin rushed through the door, arms full of papers with his battered briefcase swinging from his hand.

"Severus! Sorry I'm late!"

Snape rushed to him to help him with all his papers, although Lupin grabbed him for a kiss first. "Happy Valentine's Day," he murmured.

"Nonsense," purred Snape, although he couldn't help his own smile responding to the tender kiss even with all Lupin's papers wedged between them. They carried all the papers between them to the settee and Tippy came rushing out to welcome Lupin and hand him a gin and tonic too.

"So, Muggle aperitifs, Muggle suits ..." Snape fingered the lapels of the rather shabby suit Lupin was wearing.

"Must blend, Severus. I mean, there are lots of wizards at Oxford, but we all wear Muggle clothes and drink Muggle drinks. No elf-made wine or Butterbeer in the dining halls at lunch. I had one of these yesterday on the recommendation of the Wizarding librarian. I thought you'd like it."

"I do. But I don't like this," said Snape, running one long finger along the frayed cuffs of the Muggle shirt Lupin was wearing. Normally, he rather liked Lupin in Muggle clothes - he suited them very well. He liked the cut of the trousers especially, he found, on Lupin's gorgeous backside - he liked to be able to admire Lupin's form. "Can't we get you a new suit and some shirts?"

"Oh Severus! You have no idea! If anything, I could do with being shabbier - it shows I'm steeped in academia and have no earthly thoughts for my looks," said Lupin, laughingly. "Muggle academics are as good as expected to look seedy." As he talked, Lupin finished straightening out all of his papers, most on his paid research but some on his first inroads in the the Lycanthropy history.

"You do not look seedy!" interrupted Snape, his fingers now playing with the tie at Lupin's neck, undoing it. He still hated to see Lupin dressed so poorly. With everything that seemed to be going to well for them at the moment, he'd rather Lupin dressed well. But then he supposed questions would be asked even in the Order where he found such money. They couldn't afford anyone to become inquisitive. Even as he was thinking this, he had drawn the neck tie away from the shirt collar, and his long fingers were now opening the buttons of his Muggle shirt. Lupin hummed as Snape's fingers worked so deftly. Snape rather liked the way Muggle shirts came open - like revealing a secret. His fingers slipped under the material and smoothed over Lupin's chest.

"We can discuss these over dinner," suggested Lupin as he stopped Snape's hands progressing any further. Then he leant forward and rested his head against Snape's. "Let's get cleaned up before ..." he paused, and continued in a low voice, "we eat." Snape smiled and each grabbed his drink as they made for the bathroom together, Snape heating in anticipation for the first night of the waxing moon.

oooOOOooo

Very quickly, every surface in their flat became overwhelmed with research papers. A desk was purchased so each could work, and new bookshelves and trunks to try to keep everything organised which, even with the addition of extension charms, proved difficult. Lupin seemed to thrive in an atmosphere of organised chaos, but Snape's desk and shelves were ordered to the point of compulsion. To the right of his desk were his researches and notes on the werewolf medicines and to the left the same on the curse itself. Alphard's notes and his most recent letters took up the shelves above the desk. Sometimes, all that could be heard was the scratching of quills and the shuffling of parchments and the turning of pages as they worked; sometimes, one or the other would share an inspirational thought or leap of logic, or just an interesting fact with a "Did you know?" or "I never knew this but ...". Sometimes, one would go to the other to massage their shoulders and talk over their work, the joy of intellectual discovery and discourse as stimulating as their physical attraction to each other. This may have been the shortest month of the year, but it was, without doubt, the sweetest to Snape.

oooOOOooo

It was half past eleven when Snape arrived home. He hadn't intended to be this late. It was the first time in this glorious month that they'd been properly together. But tonight he had needed to repeat the counter-curse on the curse in Dumbledore's hand and administer the _Spiritus Vitae_. It always took time and Dumbledore liked to do this late at night so there was less chance of being disturbed.

He found Lupin asleep at the table, his Coptic notes spread around him, a mug of cold tea by his hand. Snape stood and watched him for a long time, just taking in the wonderful sight of his countenance at rest, his healthy complexion and a little weight gained in the past couple of weeks. How happy it made Snape that Lupin was away from the werewolves and the toll it took on his health. How much happier that he had been with him every single night since the full moon? It had nearly been a full cycle. It had been a long time since they had been able to spend such time together. Snape felt blessed.

He shook Lupin's shoulder lightly and kissed the crown of his head and Lupin's eyes fluttered open.

"Sev'rus," Lupin murmured as he found and held Snape's hand and smiled at him. "I meant to be awake to make you tea. I'm sorry ..."

Snape smiled softly. "You never have anything to be sorry for," he said softly and he stroked a finger against his cheek.

Yes, he felt blessed indeed.

oooOOOooo

Snape left the wards of Malfoy Manor siphoning away the blood spray that covered his robes, face and hair, his hands shaking violently and his stomach roiling. He couldn't go straight home to Lupin – he couldn't take this foulness back with him. Breathing deeply to rid himself of the coppery tang of blood in his nostrils, he Disapparated into the crushing void. As he turned out of his Apparition at the gates of Hogwarts, he stumbled and a hand reached out and steadied him. It was Dumbledore.

"Are you all right, Severus?"

"Yes, yes. I'm fine. Just ..." He looked into Dumbledore's eyes and saw the concern there. "I'm not injured." Dumbledore gave him a small smile. "You waited for me?" Dumbledore had not done that before.

"Well, if he hurt your arms again, I was worried about your Apparition, but ... well, I am pleased to see he did not." Quick bright eyes took in a few remaining drops of blood.

"No. It's not mine. He was pleased with the information I gave, and ... he had other distractions tonight," said Snape heavily. "The Fletchers, Albus. They didn't make their portkey. He had them ..."

Dumbledore breath caught as he held Snape's arm to steady him.

"You didn't ...?"

"No ... no," gasped Snape. "It was a pleasure he reserved for himself." Snape tried to be dispassionate. He had Occluded deeply so he would not vomit when the Dark Lord had used his Cutting Curse so savagely on the Muggle-born woman, but even then, it had been hard. And now, it was everything he could do to stop shaking.

"Do you have a potion you can take?" asked Dumbledore as he let go of Snape's arm.

"I'll be fine. I just need some air. To calm down," he said breathlessly, trying to forget the brutal murders he had been called upon to witness and to applaud, but they remained with him as if seared on his eyelids.

"Let us walk then."

Snape nodded curtly, grateful to walk away his stress before returning to Lupin. He knew Lupin to would listen to anything Snape wanted tell him, but to tell him was to corrupt him. Lupin was his Light, his reward for keeping to this hard, hard path. He didn't want him corrupted by the Dark Lord's obscenities.

**Snape and Dumbledore stroll** ed **together in the deserted castle grounds by twilight.** The air was still crisp and cold; it was not quite spring – but it would be soon. The promise of it was there.

Perhaps, this would be a good opportunity to try to get answers that Dumbledore always seemed so reluctant to give him.

**'What are you doing with Potter, all these evenings you are closeted together,' Snape asked abruptly.**

**Dumbledore looked** at him **wear** ily. Snape felt he shouldn't look this tired; he had only administered the _Spiritus Vitae_ last night. Perhaps, it would come to a natural end? If only he could be that fortunate and be spared this killing.

**'Why? You aren't trying to give him _more_ detentions, Severus? The boy will soon have spent more time in detention than out.'**

Snape bridled with offence. The brat had had very few detentions from him this year, but Snape could surely remedy that if Dumbledore wanted to test him.

**'He is his father over again -'** he snapped reflexively.

**'In looks, perhaps, but his deepest nature is much more like his mother's. I spend time with Harry because I have things to discuss with him, information I must give him before it is too late.'**

Snape hated it when Dumbledore tried to manipulate him by drawing comparisons between the boy and Lily. He would even like to believe it was true, but he never saw it. All he knew was that the boy was supposed to be 'the Chosen One' and so Dumbledore trusted him with time and information which he did not give to Snape.

**'Information,' repeated Snape. 'You trust him ... you do not trust me.'** He knew it sounded petulant, but _he_ was under a geas to Dumbledore, not the boy.

**'It is not a question of trust. I have, as we both know, limited time. It is essential that I give the boy enough information to him to do what he needs to do.'**

**'And why may I not have the same information?'**

**'I prefer not to put all of my secrets in one basket, particularly not a basket that spends so much time dangling on the arm of Lord Voldemort.'** Whether Dumbledore had intended to be so offensive, Snape did not know, but his temper became more and more ragged with each offence.

**'Which I do on yours orders!'** he barked.

**'And you do it extremely well. Do not think that I underestimate the constant danger in which you place yourself, Severus. To give Voldemort what appears to be valuable information while withholding the essentials is a job I would entrust to nobody but you.'**

**'Yet you confide much more in a boy who is incapable of Occlumency, whose magic is mediocre and who has a direct connection into the Dark Lord's mind!'**

**'Voldemort fears that connection,' said Dumbledore. 'Not so long ago he had one, small taste of what truly sharing Harry's mind means to him. It was pain such as he has never experienced. He will not try to possess Harry again, I am sure of it. Not in that way.'**

**'I don't understand.'** What Dumbledore was saying was like riddles to him. He was just a boy; how could he hurt the Dark Lord? How was it even possible?

**'Lord Voldemort's soul, maimed as it is, cannot bear close contact with a soul like Harry's. Like a tongue on frozen steel, like flesh in flame -'**

_What was this nonsense?_ thought Snape angrily. These were the parallels the boy drew so erroneously. How would the Dark Lord's soul contact the boy's? They weren't discussing soul magic, were they?

**'Souls? We were talking of minds!'**

**'In the case of Harry and Lord Voldemort, to speak of one is to speak of the other.'**

**Dumbledore glanced around to make sure that they were alone. They were close by the Forbidden Forest, now, but there was no sign of anyone near them.**

**'After you have killed me, Severus -'** Snape exhaled heavily. After everything he had seen this night, did they have to discuss this again? He didn't want to do this. And if he had to, he didn't want to bear it alone.

**'You refuse to tell me everything, yet you expect that small service of me!' snarled Snape, real anger flar** ing **in** him **now** at the trap in which he found himself. He didn't want to do this thing. He didn't want to sully Lupin by being bonded to a killer **. 'You take a great deal for granted, Dumbledore! Perhaps I have changed my mind!'**

**'You gave me your word, Severus. And while we are talking about services you owe me, I thought you agreed to keep a close eye on our young Slytherin friend?"**

**Snape** 's jaw tightened with anger. Everything he was supposed to do! Everything he was meant to juggle! It was Dumbledore who wanted to save Malfoy's soul at the expense of Snape's and still Dumbledore berated him!

**Dumbledore sighed.**

**'Come to my office tonight, Severus, at eleven, and you shall not complain that I have no confidence in you ...'**

"But Remus is waiting for me ..."

"Let him know you'll be late, Severus. It's time you knew."

* * *


	93. Unbearable Truths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes from Chapter 33 of DH are in bold and © J.K. Rowling

Snape had called Lupin on the mirror and told him Dumbledore needed to speak to him, but not until 11.

"I'll wait up," offered Lupin.

"No, Remus. Albus is talking in riddles again. I don't know how long he'll be and it's full moon tomorrow. You need your rest."

"Severus – if it's very late, perhaps you should stay there the night, so you can get some sleep ...

"No. I'd rather be home." Snape gaze was intent on Lupin, who smiled softly at him.

"I'll see you then."

At least it gave Snape time to shower and change. It didn't matter that he'd managed to siphon most of Susan Fletcher's blood from him; he felt filthy – as if he could never be clean. Some there had enjoyed it – of course they had – he had seen the fire of anticipation and catharsis in their eyes as the woman had been destroyed before them. Many had unmasked so they could see the spectacle better. Snape had not and had been very grateful for his mask. It had taken all his formidable skill in Occluding his mind not to weaken before the whole coven.

Greyback was disappointed that the daughter had been safely at Hogwarts but the eight year old son had died quickly at the Carrows' cruel hands – more quickly than they intended, they told the hall when they returned from the dungeon. Others were held there, he had told Dumbledore this, and yet no Aurors ever went there. Snape did not understand how the manor was now protected from Magical Law Enforcement, and Dumbledore did not explain.

Snape's stomach growled uncomfortably. He hadn't eaten since lunch, but he doubted he would be able to eat anything now, even if he were hungry. He ordered tea instead and marked students' parchments as he waited, his stomach crawling horribly as he tried not to think what this 'truth' might be.

At 11, Snape entered **Dumbledore's office** where Dumbledore awaited him, already seated behind his desk.

"Take a seat, Severus. Would you like some tea?"

Snape waved a hand impatiently and sat. Whatever Dumbledore had to tell him, he had his own report to make first and he reported on the murders of the Fletcher family in an emotionless voice, as Dumbledore regarded him intently. Then Dumbledore called Kingsley by Floo to arrange to put the extended Fletcher family into hiding.

"Miss Fletcher is a Ravenclaw, I believe?"

Snape nodded abruptly.

"I will speak to Filius." He still regarded Snape carefully as he stroked his beard. "You are still resentful about the favour I have asked of you."

"Resentful?" spat Snape. "This night I have watched three people lose their lives at the hands of those who enjoy suffering and murder. I hear their screaming in my head now. I can smell the blood and I don't doubt I will have nightmares of it. And yet you ask murder of me and you call it 'a favour'! As if I am lending you a book!" Snape's voice rose as he spoke, his disgust and fear mingling as his dropped his mouth onto the palm of his hand and closed his eyes tightly.

Minutes passed as Snape struggled to compose himself.

"If not you, Severus, then who?" asked Dumbledore softly, breaking his reverie. "Who will send me on my way without pain or humiliation?"

"You merely wish to consolidate my position with the Dark Lord," Snape snapped, sourly, refusing to be lulled by the inherent plea for mercy in Dumbledore's question.

"Call it a happy coincidence."

"Do not mock me, Dumbledore."

Dumbledore looked at Snape appraisingly over his half-moon glasses.

"Ah," Dumbledore sighed. "You are cross with me."

Snape exhaled sharply through gritted teeth.

"You are maddening."

"I will not be maddening you for much longer."

"Stop that!" Snape stood suddenly, his temper fraying again, holding his own hand to his brow where a headache was beginning to pulse. "Be careful Draco does not come for you this night, for this night, I might not have any compunction."

Dumbledore raised his unmarred hand in surrender and **Fawkes** fell **silent**.

"Let us not argue, Severus. Please." He gestured once more to the chair, which Snape re-took, watching Dumbledore through narrowed eyes as he stood and began to pace **as Snape sat quite still.**

"I promised I would tell you something, something that is absolutely critical. I could only trust you with this, Severus, as I trust so much to you, even if you do not realise it." Dumbledore emphasised the last phrase as Snape made to interrupt.

"I need you to give certain information to Harry."

Snape snorted in derision and turned away. Potter was the very last thing he needed to hear about.

"Hear me, Severus. Everything revolves now around this and the timing of it is crucial in what Harry has to do," said Dumbledore, urgently.

"What does he have to do?" Snape interrupted.

"Severus, it is vital that you understand the timing. **Harry must not know, not until the last moment, not until it is necessary, otherwise how could he have the strength to do what must be done?'** Dumbledore seemed now to be talking to himself and Snape was confused.

 **'But what must he do?"** Snape asked yet again. _Why must this infernal man speak in riddles?_

 **'That is between Harry and me. Now, listen closely, Severus. There will come a time – after my death – do not argue, do not interrupt!"** He quelled another interruption from Snape. **"There will come a time when Lord Voldemort will seem to fear for the life of his snake.'**

 **'For Nagini?' Snape** couldn't mask his **astonish** ment at this unexpected turn in the conversation **.**

**'Precisely. If there comes a time when Lord Voldemort stops sending that snake forth to do his bidding, but keeps it safe beside him, under magical protection, then, I think, it will be safe to tell Harry.'**

Dumbledore was clearly not going to explain. All Snape could do was to find out the message and piece it together for himself.

**'Tell him what?'**

**Dumbledore took a deep breath and closed his eyes** and Snape felt a chill of foreboding prickling at the back of his neck **.**

**'Tell him that on the night Lord Voldemort tried to kill him, when Lily cast her own life between them as a shield, the Killing Curse rebounded upon Lord Voldemort, and a fragment of Voldemort's soul was blasted apart from the whole, and latched itself on to the only living soul left in that collapsing building. Part of Lord Voldemort lives inside Harry, and it is that which gives him the power of speech with snakes, and a connection with Lord Voldemort's mind that he has never understood. And while that fragment of soul, unmissed by Voldemort, remains attached to, and protected by Harry, Lord Voldemort cannot die.'**

Whatever Snape had been expecting, it was not this.

Dark soul magic.

A soul fragment existing in Lily's boy, connecting him to the Dark Lord. His mind struggled to grasp the enormity of it. The connection. The dreams. The Parseltongue. The protection. His mind reached harder. The wands. Yes. _While that fragment of soul remains protected by the boy, the Dark Lord cannot die._

Dear Merlin. Dumbledore meant ... he meant ... Snape could hardly bring himself to say it aloud.

 **'So the boy ... the boy must die?' asked Snape,** suddenly feeling as if submerged underwater, his whole perception dulled by shock **.**

**'And Voldemort himself must do it, Severus. That is essential.'**

_Essential._ Snape's blood froze. The Dark Lord must kill the boy. After all these years, it had all been a ploy to get to this.

Snape couldn't speak – the treachery was too great for him even to contemplate. Eventually, he found his voice but he had to force the words out.

**'I thought ... all these years ... that we were protecting him for her. For Lily.'**

**'We have protected him because it has been essential to teach him, to raise him, to let him try his strength,' said Dumbledore, his eyes still tight shut. 'Meanwhile, the connection between them grows ever stronger, a parasitic growth; sometimes I have thought he suspects it himself. If I know him, he will have arranged matters so that when he does set out to meet his death, it will, truly, mean the end of Voldemort.'**

Try the boy's strength – the Philosopher's Stone? Quirrell? The Basilisk? Barty Crouch? Had they all been _allowed_ to happen to _'try his strength'_? Snape's whole being mutinied at the thought. Had it all been engineered? Had he been so thoroughly betrayed?

 **Dumbledore** finally **opened his eyes** and met Snape's **horrified** stare as Snape saw the man as if for the first time in his life **.**

 **'You have kept him alive so that he can die at the right moment?'** Snape said, dangerously.

**'Don't be shocked, Severus. How many men and women have you watched die?'**

**'Lately, only those whom I could not save,' said Snape** , furious at the allusion to tonight's events **. He stood up** , unable to contain his distress any longer **.**

 **'You have used me,'** he said, despair evident in his tone.

**'Meaning?'**

**'I have spied for you, and lied for you, put myself in mortal danger for you. Everything was supposed to be to keep Lily Potter's son safe. Now you tell me you have been raising him like a pig for slaughter -'**

**'But this is touching, Severus,' said Dumbledore. 'Have you grown to care for the boy, after all?'**

**'For** ** _him_** **?' shouted Snape** , angry because Dumbledore knew the truth – he knew why Snape had pledged himself, but now he was almost inarticulate with anger. Damn it all, Dumbledore knew why **.**

**_'Expecto Patronum!'_ **

**From the tip of his wand burst the silver doe** – his vow to protect the boy, to do all he could in the place of the woman he had betrayed to keep her son safe **; she landed on the office floor, bounded once across the office and soared out of the window. Dumbledore watched her fly away, and as her silvery glow faded he turned back to Snape, and his eyes were full of tears.**

**'After all this time?'**

**'Always,' said Snape.** "To keep the boy is safe."

But now he knew the boy would never be safe. Dumbledore had always known the boy could never be safe, but he had made Snape swear to him anyway. Lied to him. Used him. He could no longer hold himself straight. He leant back against the wall, his ancient guilt-ridden grief for Lily beginning to simmer once more.

"Severus ..."

"Don't!" gasped Snape, as a sob constricted his throat, as the memory of his complicity in Lily's death crashed over him once more. "How dare you! You lied to me all this time. We were supposed to keep him safe ... for her ..." His voice gave out as his forehead pressed against his own hand.

"You vowed to give me anything, Severus ..."

"To _protect_ her child," pressed Snape. He sat suddenly as if his knees could no longer hold him. "Not kill him at an _appropriate_ time," he whispered.

"How can the boy live if Voldemort survives? Don't you see? It must be done ... "

"No!" The resurgent grief inside Snape threatened to drown him. It had all been for nothing! It was supposed to be for Lily's child to live, not for Snape to be complicit in his death too. "NO!" he raged. "That isn't what I promised!"

"But how else will you and Remus be free?" asked Dumbledore mildly.

Snape's breath came in short, painful gasps now. What was Dumbledore doing to him? Saving Potter was to have been his redemption for the terrible mistakes he had made until he turned away from the Dark Lord. If he couldn't save Potter – if he actively led him to his doom – how could he redeem himself?"

"No," Snape said. "I won't do it. It was not my vow."

Snape heard Dumbledore sigh, but Snape could not look at him. His heart was too full of pain, his stomach full of snakes. Dumbledore had betrayed him – so completely this time.

The only sound in the room was Snape's rasping breathing. Even the phoenix remained still.

"And if I tell you," said Dumbledore quietly, "that it may not mean the end for the boy? That old magic will protect him still, will you do what needs to be done? That which I am no longer able to do?" Dumbledore's tone was urgent now, even pleading.

With or without Snape to cast the final curse, Dumbledore would still die, Snape knew that. There was no way the boy could survive if he allowed the Dark Lord to smite him. But then, there was no way that he should have survived before. Lily's magic again?

"Is this the truth, or just another ploy to trick me into doing your bidding, Dumbledore?"

"It is no more than a guess, Severus, although if I say so myself, it is a finely tuned guess."

"You risk Lily's son on a guess?"

"For the sake of future generations – I do."

"If your guess is right, this part of the Dark Lord that lives inside the boy – it will certainly die?"

"Yes, but if the boy is to live, it must be Voldemort who destroys it. Harry must let Voldemort strike him down. Harry must believe he will die."

So dispassionate. So cold.

"A sacrifice," Snape said, his tone dead, realising now what Dumbledore meant. Self-sacrifice, like Lily. But Lily had not survived.

Blue eyes of extraordinary clarity pierced Snape, as they so often had before.

"Yes."

"And if you are wrong, and the boy dies?"

"At least one of Voldemort's tethers to his life here will be severed for good." He paused but then added, "But I don't believe I am wrong, Severus."

 _At least one._ There were more then. Snape withdrew his pained gaze from Dumbledore's once more, dropping his head in his hands. How could he do this? How could he betray Lily again? But worse – so much worse – for this time, he would knowingly send her child to his death. But the boy could never live whilst Voldemort lived. It was always going to be a dance of death. A chill ran up his arms and his neck. He knew what he had to do.

"Your word, Dumbledore. A vow for a vow that you are not lying to me now."

"My word, Severus."

 

 oooOOOooo

He stumbled from the fireplace in his quarters, and fell on his knees. He so wanted to go home to Lupin and wrap himself up in his consoling embrace, but how could he? He scrambled to his feet, swaying uncertainly, shocked to his core.

How could he go to the bed of the man who cared for that child, knowing what he knew? What kind of secret was that to keep? And if the child died? How could he ever confess his part in that child's destruction – even though he himself once would have acquiesced in it for his own ends? It made his insides freeze.

His head fell against the wall, and his eyes shut tight, dry and hot under his eyelids.

"Merlin help me!" he whispered as he slid down the wall, his will sapping from him as the solution refused to come and he held his head on the heels of his hands. A hoarse cry of anguish ripped from his throat.

In the fifteen years since Lily's death, Severus Snape had had many occasions to feel his guilt and shame for taking the prophecy to the Dark Lord. He remembered now when Dumbledore had summoned him to tell him of Lily's death.

_It felt as if someone had snatched his lungs out of his chest. He couldn't breathe. He had gasped and hitched, but no breath would come. His eyes began to swim as a rock of guilt and shame hurt his ribs, like a malignant creature trying to break the prison of his rib cage. His legs gave way and he had crumpled into a chair and the tears like acid spilled and he managed a mighty intake of breath._

_And then the grief came. Huge and unbiddable grief, like a tidal wave he could not withstand and his body was wracked with terrible sobs,_ _**like a wounded animal** _ _as he_ _**slumped forwards in** _ _his_ _**chair.** _ _He remembered how Dumbledore had stood over him as he had tried to contain his immeasurable heartache and his bitter recriminations._

 **_'I thought ... you were going ... to keep her ... safe ...'_ ** _he had sobbed, the pain in his heart refusing to subside, hurting his lungs and throat that the grief could not be cried away._

**_'Her boy survives.'_ **

He remembered he had tried to dismiss the fact. What did he care for James Potter's progeny – the proof she loved his enemy – why should he care?

**_'Her son lives. He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and colour of Lily Evans's eyes, I am sure?'_ **

It was the baited hook, he realised now: the use of her maiden name, the reminder of the eyes like no-one else's.

 **_'DON'T!'_ ** _Snape_ _**bellowed** _ _as the thought of her beautiful, sparkling eyes now lifeless made his heart clench painfully hard_ _**. 'Gone ... Dead ...'** _

**_'Is this remorse, Severus?'_ **

**_'I wish ... I wish_ I _were dead ...'_**

**_'And what use would that be to anyone?' said Dumbledore coldly_ ** _, ignoring Snape's self-pity_ _**. 'If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear.'** _

**_Snape_ ** _could not comprehend what Dumbledore seemed to be saying to him. If he loved her? No-one could deny he loved her. What way forward? How could there be any way forward for him now? His only friend was dead – and he was responsible. He could only_ _**peer through** _ _his_ _**haze of pain** _ _to look questioningly at Dumbledore_ _**.** _

**_'What - what do you mean?'_ **

**_'You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily's son.'_ **

**_'He does not need protection. The Dark Lord has gone -'_ ** _Snape barked impatiently._

**_' – the Dark Lord will return, and Harry Potter will be in terrible danger when he does.'_ **

_Return? Return? The Dark Lord will return. Snape's mind recoiled at the thought. Her sacrifice had been for nothing then? Just to keep the baby alive for his return? An ugly flush of shame assailed him: just because she had not loved Snape in the end did not mean she did not love at all. She had loved her child. She loved her child in that fierce, protective way Lily always loved – just as she had been a fierce and protective friend to him – once._

_Of course, she would die for her child and envelop him in her protective magic. It was exactly what Lily would do. It was why he had loved her so._

_It galvanised him and_ _**slowly Snape regained control of himself** _ _and began to_ _**master his own breathing.** _ _He didn't want to protect Potter's son; his whole being revolted at the thought. But his craven treachery had brought Lily to this. His was the fault and so must the remedy be._

 **_At last_ ** _he could speak._ _**'Very well. Very well. But never – never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear ... especially Potter's son ... I want your word!'** _

**_'My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?' Dumbedore sighed, looking down into Snape's ferocious, anguished face. 'If you insist ...'_ **

And now, here he sat, in his quarters once more, draining a bottle of Firewhiskey on his own, to dull the edge of the resurgent pain. He was too ashamed to seek Lupin's comfort. He wasn't sure he deserved it. He had done it: he had killed the one person on this earth who had loved him once, had been kind, had held his hand and smiled at him.

He pictured it perfectly. It was late summer, by the swings in the park and there were two children: the boy, unkempt and misbegotten; the girl, adored and cherished. But they talked and played all day together. But now it was time for her to go home for tea. He didn't want her to go. She made him feel clever and proud to be a wizard but more than that: she made him feel wanted for the first time in his life. He squashed down his greedy urge to tell her to stay a little longer. Just because there was no tea for him, he wouldn't want her to go hungry.

"Bye, Lily," he had said softly, with a little half smile feeling out of place on his face.

"Bye, Sev," she said, happily, her green eyes twinkling and her red hair resplendent in the late afternoon dappled sunshine. Her small hand had squeezed his, making his tummy flip, and she smiled at him. "I'll see you tomorrow. Don't be late!"

A perfect golden moment with his very own friend. _This_ was how he remembered her. Always.

 

oooOOOooo

He awoke at dawn, his head hammering, crumpled in a sweaty heap on his own living room floor. He lay spread-eagled on his rug, just able to open his eyes, although it felt as if his eyelids rasped over sandpaper. He had drunk too much last night. He had cried too much last night. He was a disgrace. He Summoned a Sober-Up Potion and tried to knock it back quickly and laid flat on his back until it began to take the curse off his pounding head. Only then, did he stagger to the shower, berating himself for agreeing to Dumbledore's plan, still filled with self-disgust.

As he dressed for the day, he heard it. It was Lupin, calling to him from the mirror. _Remus!_ How he longed to see his face. He sat shakily on the edge of the bed and answered the mirror.

"Severus. Where have you been? I waited for you."

"Remus. I'm sorry, I ..."

"You look awful," Lupin cut through him, unusual in itself. "You've been drinking."

"Yes," said Snape shortly, his brow furrowing.

"With anyone?" Lupin said

"What?" Snape was momentarily confused. "No. Of course not."

"So you'd rather drink yourself into a stupor alone than come home to me?" said Lupin, a hard edge to his voice. "You told me you'd be home."

Then Snape remembered and groaned inwardly. It was the full moon tonight. It couldn't have happened at a worse time. The day of the full moon was when Lupin's temper was at its very worst, all his sweetness and understanding swept aside by the aggressive temper of the wolf. Perhaps, it was just as well. Perhaps, Snape did not deserve Lupin's understanding or kind nature. The wolf was what he deserved after what he'd agreed to last night.

Killer. Killer of Dumbledore. Killer of the boy. Of two people Lupin truly cared for. It was nothing more than he deserved.

"I'm sorry," Snape faltered, feeling a lump in his throat again, upset for last night, upset for the sneer that marred Lupin's usually kind features when his soul ached for Lupin's kindness so much. "I'll be home straight after school."

Lupin had nodded abruptly at him and left the mirror, leaving Snape stunned, stung and shaking. In twelve hours, his whole world had turned in on itself again and tonight when he needed his husband, instead he would have the monster.

A monster for a monster. It was fitting.

 

 oooOOOooo

Snape delayed going to the flat until the very last moment. He knew it would make Lupin's wolf angry. The wolf was already angry with him. Snape had seen it even this morning and Snape didn't feel he deserved anything other than Lupin's anger. It was the first time he had gone to meet Lupin on the full moon with trepidation as well as excitement.

He stood at the front door of the flat and breathed deeply before he let himself in. Lupin was waiting at the door of the bedroom, his eyes sharp, his features hard. Snape wondered wildly if Lupin's transformed wolf would have hunted Snape down if he hadn't come home. He almost felt it was possible, even with Wolfsbane. He felt like prey. It made him shiver. He hung up his cloak and walked to Lupin, his pulse racing and his stomach squirming at the harsh appearance of Lupin's face and the overwhelming musk that pervaded the flat. It was Snape who felt like a lamb to the slaughter now, and yet he went willingly, his eyes never leaving Lupin's, his submission never in doubt.

He reached the doorway where Lupin stood. Lupin arm wrapped around Snape's neck, more a stranglehold than an embrace. His other hand ripped open his jacket and tore the shirt as his mouth bit onto Snape's hungrily. Lupin gripped the bare revealed skin of Snape's torso, and the grip quickly became cruel. It didn't matter – Snape yielded to it with a groan as he was stripped of his clothes and pushed onto his knees.

It was exactly what Snape had wanted - Lupin's gentleness subsumed by the beast within. Snape wanted it this way – he needed it to be harsh and uncaring – brutal even; he needed to be stripped bare – to his skin – to his emotions.

And Snape was grateful for it – grateful for the forceful lust that devoured him so completely, that subsumed him in the moments of biting, bruising, thrusting lust, washing him with fervent desire and sharp sensuality that bordered on pain that erased every care and every worry and every dark fear.

For Lupin, for Lily – as far as Snape was concerned, Lupin could not be angry enough.

 

oooOOOooo

The transformation went smoothly, although Snape was still trembling when he held Lupin through it. As soon as the wolf took form, he dropped onto his stomach and looked at Snape pleadingly and whined.

_Will you tell me, Severus? Please. What has happened?_

How strange, it struck Snape, that now transformed into the wolf, Lupin had his own caring disposition, and the bestiality of the wolf was subdued.

Snape closed his eyes slowly, of course then realising he couldn't talk to Lupin unless he looked him right in the eyes.

_I cannot, my love._

Unbidden, Snape's eyes welled and tears spilled over and he hung his head although it was far too late to hide his tears at the shame at what he had agreed to do. He did not believe that Lupin could ever forgive him for this – just as Lily would not have, had she lived. The brutal physicality of their full moon carnality had only assuaged his guilt for that short time. And now, it had returned full force and he had never felt so desperate – so sullied – so guilty as he did at that moment and he wondered if he would ever be able to confess the stain on his soul to Lupin. He wondered if Lupin felt it through their Bond.

The wolf whimpered and his nose nudged against Snape's hands in his lap and rested there, as if to say, 'I'm here,' and Snape stretched out to wrap his still arms around the wolf's neck and nuzzled his face into it, too desolate to cry any more but seeking comfort of a body's warmth instead and they passed the night in this desperate embrace, their bodies eventually yielding to exhausted, troubled sleep.

 

oooOOOoo

Snape came awake in time for moonset, his Claimed body stirring him. Lupin transformed well and then he took Snape in his arms to hold him close and they lay down together, holding each other carefully, reassuring touches gently placed until they slept again.

It was Lupin who woke Snape as he felt small massaging strokes against his body. He opened his eyes to find Lupin applying Bruise Balm and Dittany to Snape's body – his hips, thighs and waist, and to his upper arms, and to bites and scratches - all the places where the angry wolf in Lupin had shown his displeasure.

Lupin's face was pale and sad.

"Oh Severus. I'm so sorry. So sorry." Snape heard the catch in Lupin's voice, the self-loathing that his wolf had hurt his mate. Snape pulled himself up quickly so that he could catch Lupin's face with his hand.

"I should have been here on time ... you were worried ... the wolf was angry, I knew it ... I could have prevented it ... I didn't want to ..." Snape stuttered.

"You can't have wanted ..." his indicated to the worst of Snape's bruising and scratching, "this, Severus. I don't believe you did."

Snape flushed and looked away. He had been wrong to use his husband's curse to punish himself – to provoke the wolf to chastise him for his conscience. His shame burned in him again.

"It's not your fault, Remus. I provoked you. I did it on purpose because I was upset ... there was a meeting ... murders," he stuttered still, finding himself uncomfortable with the half-truths he was telling, knowing Lupin never accepted it was anything other than his own fault for the beast within.

"No, Severus. Don't say you deserved it. I'm so sorry," said Lupin, swallowing back his own visible mortification, finishing tending Snape's injuries then his hands settling on Snape's shoulders, this time so gently. "Can you tell me about the meeting?"

Snape looked up, his black eyes glittering, feeling a smarting at the back of them. He felt the constriction of the Fidelius in his throat: the sacrifice of the boy was too enmeshed with Dumbledore's death. There would be no telling Lupin until he had killed Dumbledore. Would Lupin listen then? And if he did, should Snape tell him? How could Lupin not tell this son of his friend? Not warn him to run for his life?

Snape dropped his gaze and shook his head, curtains of black hair shielding his face. He never wanted to tell Lupin what he was; he never wanted him to find out although he knew in his heart that was a vain hope.

Instead, he curled into Lupin's body, almost trying to make himself small, like a child, his head against Lupin's chest listening to his solid heartbeat, holding on to the strong arms around him as if somehow, by their presence, he could stave off the future – the future filled with death and betrayal. Strong hands held him and stroked his hair away from his face, followed by a soft kiss. For now, it was all the reassurance he could need – he had to make the most of it.

"I'm here, Severus. No matter what."

* * *

 


	94. Of Force and Poison

Snape's day at school had been wretched and he had not spared his classes his temper or reined in his own frustration. All day he was tormented by the defeated air Lupin had worn as he had left their flat for Hogwarts.

No matter how he had tried to soothe Lupin that morning, Snape saw that Lupin was filled with revulsion for what he saw as a bestial attack upon Snape; nothing Snape could say could dissuade Lupin of his own iniquity. He so dearly wished he could spend more time making it up to Lupin. He could never do it fully – the damage was done. Lupin's deeply entrenched fear of his own creature was revived fully. Snape knew he had to try to undo it, if he could. He loved their robust love-making before the full moon. It had not been Lupin's fault that it had become something other in Snape's anxiety and distress at Dumbledore's revelations.

"Because it shows me – no matter how I strive – that I am inhuman," Lupin had said. "Cruelty is inherent in the nature of the beast." He had touched one of the many now fading bruises as if to emphasise his point.

"No," Snape had insisted. "I know you will never believe me but it's true. I provoked you. Inhuman and cruel?" Snape snorted. "If you had seen what I saw the night before, by men and women who are supposedly _human_ ... who do not labour to be all that you are even under the pressing weight of one of the darkest curses known to mankind! You – are – not – inhuman, Remus. And you are far from cruel. I beg you not to feel guilty because of this."

"Even this, you forgive me, Severus. How did I ever come to deserve such forgiveness?" Lupin shook his head slightly even as Snape felt the continuous flutter of panic that Lupin wouldn't listen to his reassurances.

So it had been a wrench to go to school that day, worrying how much Lupin would blame himself without Snape to pull him back from the brink of his curse-induced despair. He slowly came to resolve that he had to put Dumbledore and Potter's demises from his mind until their times came. He owed it to Lupin not to wallow in his own guilt. He had agreed to both, and it was for him to convince Lupin he was not a traitor when the time came. He did not want to waste their time together driving himself and Lupin into guilt-driven madness. He hoped he could master himself enough for Lupin's sake.

He rushed home that night, ignoring Dumbledore's instruction to eat in the Great Hall. He needed to spend the time with his husband, repairing the damage he had caused.

They had eaten together, Lupin carefully and (Snape thought) painfully polite as if he were scared Snape might bolt from him. How he cursed himself for his reaction yesterday. As Tippy cleared away, Snape moved his chair next to Lupin's and smiled at him reassuringly.

Lupin's smile was faint. Fearful. Snape turned to him fully.

"I need to tell you what happened at the last meeting with the Dark Lord," he said. "I can't tell you everything that happened, or things that have been asked of me, but I hope you will understand how I reacted. I hope you will forgive me." _Forgive now and in the future,_ thought Snape as he marshalled his thoughts to try to explain to Lupin.

"The things that have been asked of you," asked Lupin, "does Albus know?"

"Yes," Snape managed before his throat constricted tightly and he almost choked.

"I'm sorry, Severus," Lupin said quickly, seeing Snape's physical distress.

"Don't be," he gasped as his throat relaxed. It was much more than he thought he would be able to say – he wondered if it would be enough come the time of the killing for Lupin to give him the benefit of the doubt.

He breathed in deeply then he related the murder of Susan Fletcher in front of the Death Eaters with _Sectumsempra_ by the Dark Lord. He didn't spare any detail of how long it took her to die or how much she writhed and screamed. Don Fletcher, a Muggle-born Auror, had been killed even as he left Kingsley arranging their safe passage by portkey to Ireland. Wilkes had seen them talking and pre-empted his escape with _Avada Kedavra_ in an alley behind the Ministry. The son – Jason – had been given to the Carrows. Snape hadn't seen his death, but he had heard the screams, and then the complaints of Carrows that the child had not lasted long enough.

Snape hadn't realised that he had closed his eyes against the memories until he felt Lupin's hand clasping his. Snape opened his eyes and continued.

"Before the Fletchers, there was a family called Montrose: a Muggle-born witch, Angela, her half-blood husband, an Unspeakable, called Angus and their twin daughters, Lucy and Emily." Names were important, Snape felt. People needed names to be remembered. "Greyback asked for the daughters ..."

"You don't have to continue, Severus," said Lupin, softly. "Not if it upsets you."

"Do you understand that there are terrible things that I see and hear? Even the plans, the discussions, who will die ..." said Snape, careful not to tell Lupin whose plans he meant, holding Lupin's hands. "They affect me so. Last night, I brought my anguish home to you, and I was wrong to do it ..."

"No, not wrong! If you can't bring it to me, where can you go, Severus? The commitment I made to you is for life. I will always be here for you."

 _Will you?_ Snape's treacherous mind wondered. _Will you be able to even bear me near you in times to come when I put paid to those you hold dear?_

"Spies," Lupin said and then spoke slowly, as if weighing every word. "Men like us who sacrifice our lives, our reputations to be what we need to be. How do men like us survive, Severus, men who live in the shadows?" Lupin reversed their hands so he was now holding Snape's. "I'm lucky. Because you insisted, I have been allowed to leave the shadows and I can have a life - but only because I have your love and companionship. If I did not, perhaps I would still be with the werewolves now, sinking further into despair and succumbing to my aggressive nature because it would be easier." Lupin picked up Snape's hands and kissed them when Snape started to protest.

"You are still in the shadows and I know they are deep shadows." Lupin pressed his own face into Snape's hands and Snape found himself almost overwhelmed by the supplication in the gesture. "I know you cannot tell me the terrible things that are asked of you, but trust me that I know the weight of Darkness." Snape nodded mutely. "I will be with you, as I have sworn with my every breath. I know there are terrible things you must do for the Light and they oppress your soul. Will you accept that I love you still?"

"If you will accept the same," said Snape urgently, seeing his advantage. Snape saw Lupin frame a denial – another denigration of himself but he bit his lip instead and nodded slowly.

"My Severus. If we don't have each other, what do we have?"

Snape wondered if he had not fallen so in love and bonded whether his duty now would be so onerous. If he did not safeguard Lupin's soul, would he find the acts of treachery required for the Light easier than he did now? Or would he crumple under the weight of the betrayal? Why even ask himself the question? He would never wish to be without what they had now. He didn't know if he could even live if Lupin left him.

"You would never do what I have done, Remus," said Snape, heavily.

Lupin regarded him solemnly. "No. I would not have pledged myself to the Dark." Snape's heart sank. "But I understand why you did back then - how life conspired against you, and you played the hand you were dealt. And I also understand how easily my life could have been different and I could have fallen to the Dark path. Never underestimate how proud I am that you could turn way and do what you now do, see what you have to see and act for others' good, not your own." Lupin picked up Snape's hand once more and pressed a kiss to his palm.

"Come to bed with me, Remus," said Snape, standing and holding out his hand. Lupin took his hand and Snape led them to the bedroom. There couldn't be more difference in Lupin's demeanour tonight from yesterday's domineering, forceful creature. Now, Lupin was subdued – fearful, even. Snape led Lupin to the bed and they sat side by side. Snape leaned forward to kiss Lupin but – ah – his eyes were so mournful. The look seemed to burn Snape with shame that he had been so self-absorbed last night.

"Please," said Snape softly. "I need you."

"I don't deserve you, Severus. I hurt you."

"I need you more than I can ever tell you." He cupped Lupin's face in his hands and Lupin rested against them.

"And even if it is true the curse makes you harsh with me sometimes, it is the curse, not you." Snape realised that had not been the best thing to say, although it was true, as Lupin flinched. Snape moved himself closer and slid one arm around Lupin's waist and the other carded Lupin's hair. He could feel the relaxation in Lupin's body to be touched so gently.

"You are the most kind, most considerate, most affectionate lover. How can you doubt it?" Snape said softly as he continued to stroke his hand through Lupin's hair. "There has never been anyone like you for me." Then Snape laid himself back and gently pulled Lupin over himself. "You know this."

"The moon wanes ..." whispered Lupin as the tips of their noses met.

"I know. But this is what I need, Remus."

It was what he needed, the soft and kind way that Lupin would make love to him, but he knew it was what Lupin needed too: to show his most expressive and gentle side, and to know that his gentleness was what Snape craved too.

Fingers softly played across Snape's cheek – the lightest of touches and drew down to his lips to be met with a kiss, Snape's black eyes never leaving Lupin's.

"It is?" There was trepidation in Lupin's voice, even though his finger gently drew down Snape's throat, firing the nerves in his neck.

"Yes, Remus," he said, his voice little more than a baritonal murmur, as gentle as he could make it, as gentle as the man to whom he now spoke. "More than anything."

 

oooOOOooo

When Snape had ensured the Hogsmeade trips had been cancelled, he hoped he had gone some way to reducing Malfoy's access to dangerous artefacts, although he still had not discovered how Malfoy had given the necklace to Miss Bell in the first place: he had not been in Hogsmeade that day to have Imperiused her. It troubled Snape that he had not been able to piece together the events of that day.

If anyone had told Snape at the start of this Saturday that Potter would be lauded as a hero once more, that would have been bad enough; to have Potter's purported prowess at Potions deemed responsible for that heroism would almost have been more than Snape could bear, had matters of greater import not preoccupied his mind.

As he understood it, Weasley had unwittingly taken a love potion for which Slughorn had made the antidote, then given Weasley a pick-me-up to follow the inevitable depressive effects of the antidote. The oak-matured mead had been poisoned, but it was Potter, not Slughorn, who had quickly administered a bezoar. Snape almost felt haunted by that bezoar. Still, he would tell Lupin when he got home and Lupin would treasure the information. That, at least, was some good news to take home at night. But first –

"Mr. Malfoy. Join me in my office, if you please."

Snape had entered the Slytherin common room silently, placing himself behind the settee where Malfoy sat before the boy was even aware of he was there. He couldn't deny the small thrill of pleasure to see the boy start at his unexpected presence.

Malfoy jumped up, paling and startled to have been taken by surprise. Malfoy's lip curled and Snape raised an eyebrow in return. The surly child tried to look imposing until Snape growled, "Now - Mr. Malfoy."

Snape followed Malfoy to his office, locking the door, and then pushed him into a chair, ignoring his outraged comments that Snape would even dare if his father were not imprisoned! Snape brought down one of the dusty jars from his top shelf and placed it with a thud in front of Malfoy.

"This is Essence of Rue which I shall shortly be taking to the hospital wing. You are a good Potions student. Why do we need Essence of Rue, Mr. Malfoy?"

"You're not the Potions Master now," sneered the boy.

"Do – not – play – with – me," hissed Snape. "For what do we need Essence of Rue?"

The boy flushed. "Herb-of-Grace," Malfoy muttered. "A strengthener for those who have been debilitated."

"By?" led Snape.

Malfoy jaw jutted out stubbornly.

"DEBILITATED BY?" shouted Snape.

"By poison! All right? Poison," the boy blurted.

"Poison administered via a fine oak-matured mead, intended as a present for the Headmaster, as I understand it," continued Snape silkily and took his chair on the other side of his desk. "Of course, anyone who knows Horace Slughorn would know he never parts with fine drink or food as gifts. Anyone who wishes to kill by stealth should research their method, don't you think, Draco? I could have told you this and avoided this unwelcome ... _incident._ "

"There is no way I'm going to trust you with my plans! You'll just steal them, and I've got plenty of ideas ..."

Snape bolted from his chair and slammed his hands on the arms of the chair on either side of Malfoy, making him flinch from a blow that might at any moment fall.

"It was crass, Draco. You nearly killed Ronald Weasley ..."

"Well, that blood traitor would be no ..."

"Enough, you foolish child!" Snape bellowed. "It's bad enough that you must've already used one Unforgiveable on Miss Bell ..."

"No, I didn't curse Bell! Shows what you know!"

"Don't lie to me! And now poison! I don't know how you managed to do that but, at this rate, you _will be_ discovered and out of this school! Do you understand me? "

"It doesn't matter what you think ..." the boy spat. Snape grabbed Malfoy's face harshly, in a manner he never would have contemplated before this year.

"How will your mother protect you from the Dark Lord's displeasure if you are expelled, idiot boy? I vowed to your mother! And I will keep that vow. There will be no trips to Hogsmeade for you to top up supplies for your far-fetched schemes and you will remain in the castle, do you understand me."

"I understand you, Professor! Third time's the charm," the boy returned, sneering once more – so very like his benighted father. "I expect to be successful next time, but when I've done my task – I'll make sure you're very sorry."

"You have already made me very sorry, Draco." Snape stood straight slowly, his jaw still clenched. "Get out of my sight."

 

ooOOOooo

"How many more concealed snares of Mr. Malfoy's await our unsuspecting residents, Severus?"

Snape dropped into a chair before Dumbledore's desk.

"He becomes more withdrawn. Each time I speak to him, there is more resentment and bitterness," said Snape, wearily.

"I cannot understand it. You were not responsible for Lucius's downfall. That was his own hubris."

"He is exactly what is to be expected of his breeding," said Snape, waving a hand contemptuously. "He cannot accept that others should have acceptance or favour based on merit. He believes he is entitled to it by birth."

"Are you still proud to have it?" asked Dumbledore with an amused smile.

"Of course not," snapped Snape, angry that Dumbledore had reminded Snape what he had been so very keen to achieve when he was Malfoy's age. He hated the parallels, no matter that they were true; no matter that Snape had been more a more adept acolyte for the Dark Lord than Draco Malfoy could ever be. He could only shudder in remembrance of it. Would he have been able to accomplish the murder of Dumbledore at sixteen? Of course not. But then, Dumbledore had not been in failing health either.

 

oooOOOooo

The Dark Lord's summonses were rarely confined to weekends now. Snape did not know if another Death Eater had supplied the Dark Lord's _Acutor_ Potion for the last two months, but his behaviour was becoming more erratic and violent once more. His violence had always been unrestrained but now, it seemed to take twists and turns that even Snape no longer seemed to be able to anticipate.

Greyback had resumed his full moon attacks to try to Turn the children of those opposed to the Dark Lord. Snape had been unable to get the intended targets beforehand, nor had Greyback divulged where his lair was.

"Perhaps you'll do a better job of this Turning than you did with the Order's pet. He was one of yours, wasn't he?" Bellatrix sneered. "Your werewolves failed against him at the battle until I took care of him and his boyfriend had to heal him!"

"And who was this werewolf that bested you?" asked Snape disdainfully, now intrigued how much both Greyback and Bellatrix had noticed or remembered.

"Weren't no werewolf. Polyjuiced. Two of 'em – wizards Polyjuiced as werewolves," grunted Greyback.

"Would you be able to identify them if you smelt their stench once more?" Bellatrix demanded, fervour alight in her eyes. Snape's body gave away nothing, so deep was his Occlusion, but if he had slipped up in that way after all his and Lupin's precautions, there would be little he would be able to do to protect himself. He watched the werewolf closely.

"Nah," said Greyback. "Can't smell nuffin' through Polyjuice, just that there ain't no proper werewolf smell to 'em."

Snape's face was impassive, even behind his mask, but he felt relief in the small hitching breath he disguised quickly as a snort of derision.

"Wizards - fighting against their own kind with a feral pack of beasts?" hissed the Dark Lord to Snape, interpreting his snort as one of disgust equal to his own. "Once we have the Ministry, we will wipe that pack from the face of the Earth. And any other pack that has not joined our cause."

"Yes, my Lord," Greyback smirked.

And then the enmity between werewolf and wizard would become intractable, Snape thought. His immediate thought was that he should tell Lupin. No. Nor Dumbledore. No, because then Lupin would go on the road again. He'd done enough. More than his fair share. Snape knew to send him back to the shadows would damage Lupin so very deeply – perhaps, irreparably.

Snape's mind ran fast now - fast like the running of the wolves themselves. Then it struck him: he had a conduit. A conduit perfect for such news. Alphard. Yes. Snape would not allow Lupin to be sent to the packs with the news of what would happen when the Ministry fell. Snape himself would send the news to Alphard and use the running wolves to muster the Light packs against the forces of the Dark. And Snape would keep Lupin safe.

As Snape strode through the corridor away from the manorial hall after the meeting, he heard faint weeping from the study. Placing his hand against the door jamb, he spied through the partially open door. Narcissa was collapsed in the captain's chair at Lucius's desk. Snape could see the Cruciatus still chasing across her skin. He went to her and stroked her dishevelled blonde hair from her face.

"Narcissa?" he called softly. Her damp eyes opened, glassy with tears of pain.

"Why haven't you taken my potion?" he asked. He was brewing post-Cruciatus Potion in quart bottles now the Dark Lord tortured them all on a regular basis.

"It ... it was all I could do ... to get here," Narcissa gasped, her breathing laboured through pain. "No strength to ... Summon some."

"I don't supposed your blessed sister thought to help you before lording over us at the meeting," scowled Snape as he pulled some of the potion from his own cloak and helped Narcissa to sit up, tilting her head so she could drink. "Ah – sip - just sip, Narcissa."

Overbright eyes looked imploringly at him, all her previous haughty demeanour had long since dissipated with him. They had formed an alliance of sorts, ever since she had rescued him on that first Christmas Day after the Dark Lord's return. It was difficult to credit how she had changed in his opinion from the old days of her complete belief in her superiority and in Lucius's preening pomposity. He doubted either would regain their former glory. Dumbledore thought Lucius would be grateful to be in Azkaban away from Voldemort's power. Looking at Narcissa, Snape thought that Dumbledore was probably right.

"She revels in it," Narcissa whispered. "The Malfoys' fall from grace." Her trembling hands still held Snape's even though she had taken the four drams he considered adequate. "It is punishment for Draco's continued failure. Goyle told the Dark Lord of the poison and its failure to reach Dumbledore."

"Narcissa, you must tell Draco, or let me. Perhaps it will encourage him to trust me ..."

"No, Severus!" she gasped desperately. "Please don't tell Draco. He might try something even more desperate. If ... if he is expelled ... the Dark Lord ... he will kill him."

"And what about you, Narcissa? What if he kills you before Draco succeeds? Tell him to co-operate with me ..."

"I have ... so many times, Severus," she said, her eyes desperately searching his, her hands wrapped in his cloak.

"How very touching. Is this a romance?" the Dark Lord sang at the doorway as the snake slid into the room, and Snape sprang away from Narcissa's side.

"No, my Lord, I ..."

"You know my rules, Severus. And yet you are helping her ... why?" The Dark Lord glided towards them, an insolent leer on his face. "Do you ... _desire_ her perhaps? Hmm? Looking after Lucius's wife while he languishes in Azkaban?"

"No, my Lord, you know I do not ..." started Snape, startled that the thought could even occur to the Dark Lord.

"Liar!" the strident voice of Bellatrix called out from the door. "Of course he does! A filthy half-blood like him: he'd stoop that low. You should be ashamed of yourself, Cissy, letting him paw you like that."

"Bella, don't ..."

"Why else would you, of all my acolytes, disobey me?" the Dark Lord hissed at Snape cutting off Narcissa's plea to her sister, and then he looked at Bellatrix, his foul leer broadening to see her revulsion and Snape's clear distaste.

"Take her then! Right now."

Both the sisters and Snape issued dismayed protests, but Snape could see the Dark Lord found twisted humour in Bellatrix's disgust and his own knowledge that Snape had no such interest. It was his perverse punishment for them all.

"Do it, Severus," he hissed into Snape's face. "Or I shall make you." The yew wand turned in his hand and Snape saw the gleeful malice lighting the crimson eyes, even as Bellatrix almost wailed at the abomination.

"Please, my Lord," Snape tried one last time. "I did not mean any disrespect ..."

_"Imperio!"_

Briefly, Snape felt the familiar floating sensation and the untraceable happiness that accompanied the Dark Lord's almost irresistible Imperius Curse urging him to pin Narcissa to the floor, hike her robe and violate her like a common whore. He did not see Narcissa, her eyes wild with terror, backing away from him even as Bellatrix begged for her sister's pardon as Snape grasped Narcissa's fragile wrists forcefully and pushed her to the floor, deaf to her pleas to the Dark Lord for mercy.

 _NO! NO! I do not want this!_ his Occluded mind shrieked _. Remus. My Remus._ And even as he thought this, the circlet on his arm set his arm ablaze, and he threw off the curse with a loud shout, pushing Narcissa away from himself as he fought the urge to hold his upper arm in pain.

Gasping for breath, his eyes darted to meet the Dark Lord's eyes, widened with shock at the force of Snape's rejection of his Imperius.

"My Lord, forgive me ... I could never defile a pure-blood for sport." It was dangerous to capitalise on that which the Dark Lord took to be the contamination of his werewolf scars but there was more at stake than just sacrificing his and Narcissa's honour and well-being for the Dark Lord's twisted pleasure. There was his Bond.

The Dark Lord's leer slowly fell away. "Defile?" A thoughtful look replaced it. "Get out, Bellatrix!"

Bellatrix bowed quickly and fled, leaving Snape and Narcissa who had both fallen to their knees reflexively.

The Dark Lord reached out and held Narcissa's chin with his long, white fingers, almost as tenderly as a lover would.

"Yes," he said sibilantly. "You are right, Severus. We must ensure there is no co-mingling with those of pure-blood." He caressed her alabaster skin almost covetously. It did not speak to Snape of sexual desire at all. "Even ... disobedient blood." He pinched her face. She whimpered then bit her bottom lip. "The blood of the Blacks," the Dark Lord scowled.

"The fault is mine, my Lord," interceded Snape, feeling the Dark Lord's malice pulsating. "Narcissa did not ask for any potion ..." He had to take the blame – she had not yet recovered from the last bout of torture. If the Dark Lord applied it again, her nerves might never recover.

"And still you are right," the Dark Lord said with an unpleasant smile. "Your fault and your punishment."

Snape's mind retreated quickly and he Occluded as deeply as he could as the Dark Lord's magic charged and the white visage was split wide by his malevolent smile.

_"CRUCIO!"_

The Torture Curse hit him fully in a mighty burst that shattered his Occlusion with its unexpected severity and he screamed in pain as he was Levitated and then flung violently to the floor.

"But you are a good servant, Severus, to keep the purity." The Dark Lord stood over Snape as he trembled on the floor, barely able to breathe. "So there will be no blood."

The Dark Lord left the room, the monstrous snake slithering by his side, and Narcissa ran to the door, half-hiding herself so she could watch the Dark Lord and Nagini disappear from view. Then she ran to Snape's side, his own flask of Post-Cruciatus Potion snatched from the desk and now in her hand. She helped his head onto her lap and administered the potion to him just as he had to her only minutes ago.

Snape's rasping breath gradually eased, together with his tremors as she stroked his hair, almost maternally.

"Severus. You should not have defied him like that. You know it would have been easier just to have done it and got it over with," said Narcissa, miserably and with an air of defeat that made him wonder if ... no, he didn't want to think of it.

Snape gritted his teeth, his anger tempered by the pain that still ghosted across his body. How many times when he was young had he allowed it just to get it over with until he was able to fight back? He wanted to tell Narcissa to fight back. Then again, how could she if the Dark Lord treated her as no more than a diversion? There was no doubt, the Dark Lord's madness grew. But Snape would not allow himself to be used like that – never again! It would defile his Bond with Lupin. His body was not his own, any more than his soul. He realised that.

And that burn through his arm: what was that? His Bond responding to the threat and bringing him back from the Dark Lord's Imperius Curse? It must be. It was deep magic indeed, and he thanked Merlin for it.

As soon as he had been able to walk once more without Narcissa's assistance, he had Apparated to the flat and found Lupin pacing the floor by the door, looking frantic. Lupin grasped him as soon as he was through the door, hands feverishly touching his face, his arms and finally his hands.

"What happened? My arm burned!" He held Snape's hands, watching the last vestiges of the Curse still coursing across the skin. "Oh Severus," he breathed.

Snape let Lupin take his cloak and his robe and lead him to the settee, helping him to sit as he checked him over again, checking Snape had taken the right amount of Potion and then, breathing heavily still, Lupin busied himself in their small kitchen making tea for Snape.

Only once Snape had his hands wrapped tightly around a mug of steaming tea, reclining back on the settee, did Lupin seem to calm down, although still seated forward next to Snape, his face expectant.

Snape did not tell Lupin about the threat to the Light werewolf packs and nor would he tell Dumbledore. Lupin would not be sent out again, if Snape could prevent it. Instead, he told Lupin how the Dark Lord had tried to coerce Snape into raping Narcissa but how their Bond had fired, enabling his resistance to the Imperius Curse.

"I thought you said he didn't take part in that sort of perversion," said Lupin, caressing Snape's upper arm.

"He never has before to my knowledge." He took a large gulp of tea, feeling the warmth spread through his chest. "He becomes more unstable. More arbitrary. He didn't even do it to hurt me or Narcissa. He did it to torment Bellatrix because she found the notion of me with her sister repugnant. The mental torture it would be for Bellatrix would be far more – ah - interesting to the Dark Lord than any physical pain or discomfort Narcissa or I would feel."

"And your mental torture for raping a woman? Or hers?" demanded Lupin, clearly horrified.

"Probably not considered, but doubtless he would relish it if he understood."

Lupin dropped his head in his hands. "Dear God," he whispered. "What would I have done to you if it had been successful?"

The mug stopped on its way to Snape's mouth. That aspect simply had not occurred to him. Would Lupin have killed him for infidelity, even if coerced – as he had always said he would? Would the wolf in him have understood the distinction? As carefully as Snape could with unsteady hands, Snape placed his mug down and wrested Lupin's hands from his face.

"It doesn't matter. It wasn't successful." Suddenly, a knot of happiness took Snape's breath away. "Our Bond protected us."

"Old magic," murmured Lupin as he looked up into Snape's eyes, the beautiful blue suddenly lightening. "Like Albus's vow!"

Snape's brow furrowed briefly.

"Don't you recall!" cried Lupin happily. "His vow of celibacy couldn't be broken by magical coercion or potions because deep magic – soul magic - recognises intention. The deep magic in Albus's vow deflected the Thrall, and our Bond repulsed the Dark magic that would have severed it!" Lupin's smile was broad now, his eyes merry, revelling in the ways of magic, his keen and alert mind engaged. Snape felt that knot of happiness swell his chest again as his fingers played with the frayed shirt cuff of Lupin's hand that was holding his. Lupin pulled him into an embrace and Snape closed his eyes in the welcome warmth and safety of Lupin's arms.

His Lupin – the academic in his shabby suit, feeding his love of magic among the stacks of ancient scrolls and tomes in Oxford. Snape loved the image and all that it meant. He pressed himself closer with a hum of contentment. It meant that in the growing turmoil and in the knowledge of the deaths that _had_ to come - he just might get to keep Lupin safe.

* * *

 


	95. Letters, Lessons & Reports

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes from Chapter 21 of HBP are in bold and © J.K. Rowling

Snape was pacing outside the hospital wing impatiently. Of course, Snape's vow might yet be rendered utterly pointless by the object of the vow himself. Potter was now lying in that hospital wing having had his skull cracked by Bludger hit by a member of his own team. That was Gryffindor camaraderie for you!

_Well_ , thought Snape snidely, _I would at least be released then. And that soul fragment would be gone._ But his sour reverie didn't mask the truth of it: he had still obliged himself to kill Dumbledore. And even if he were pleased if the boy died ( _Would he be?_ he stopped his pacing suddenly at the thought), whatever Dumbledore may have planned, Snape had vowed to protect Lily's son and he would have failed. Not to mention how much Lupin would grieve. So many consequences.

He and Minerva had been the first down to the pitch when McLaggen had hit the Bludger at Potter and had brought Potter to the infirmary. McLaggen was with the Dumbledore and Madame Hooch now, explaining why he had taken Peakes's bat from him, contrary to the Keeper's position. He was an appalling boy. Snape hoped that he would be punished. He rolled his eyes: what was he thinking? McLaggen was a Gryffindor. The idea of punishment was laughable.

At that moment, Minerva came out of the hospital wing at a brisk pace.

"Thank you for your help, Severus," she said and they walked down the corridor together.

"Will he be all right?"

"Oh yes, Poppy mended the cracks immediately." Minerva sighed. "That boy attracts injury like a magnet attracts iron."

Snape bit back his unkind retort; he could see how worried she had been.

"And I'm surprised, Severus, that you have not teased me about Gryffindor's loss," she said pertly.

"I thought I'd wait until I was sure it wouldn't be in bad taste," said Snape with a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Very decent of you, I'm sure," Minerva replied tartly.

"You're welcome."

"Get it over with then," sighed Minerva, rolling her eyes.

"I'm not sure I need to add anything, Minerva."

"What ... what do you mean?"

"To the facts, I mean," said Snape silkily, a small smile crimping the corners of his mouth. "Three hundred and twenty to sixty loss ... to Hufflepuff. Need I say more?"

"Yes. Well." Minerva's lips pursed very tightly until they whitened and she fixed him with her most stern gaze. "Will you be joining us in the staff room tonight, or are you away again?"

"I'll be away again, but I can be reached in an emergency."

"Yes, I appreciate that but ... well ... we rarely see you at all nowadays, Severus, not even for Pomona's card school. Charity is complaining she misses your poker face. Of course, she just doesn't know your tells the way I do." Minerva raised her eyebrow and Snape smiled tightly, only to be surprised as she touched his hand lightly with her fingertips. "I hope you are safe in what you are doing."

With that she nodded and let herself into her own office, leaving Snape at the threshold, strangely disquieted again by her concern and ashamed that he had dissembled.

oooOOOooo

_Dear friend and colleague,_

_Thank you for your last. I have collated all the specifications you sent. I have to say that some of the combinations and proportions simply had not occurred to me. I have tried six different trial balms. I have also tried a combination of 2 and 3 with one additional dram of Distilled Fennel. I have included a tabulation of the results, but I can say that, at the last moon, this combination delivered the fastest healing results I have seen so far ..._

Snape scratched away, extrapolating all of Alphard's information from his letter into his own charts and then on into various manuals. It had to be acknowledged that Alphard's access to an enlarged werewolf pack could give Snape information he could never hope to gain from his small experiments at pain relief in Lupin's Wolfsbane. Idris's pack contained werewolves of every age and condition and Alphard noted everything with a scrupulous attention to detail that Snape could only admire. Even though they had only been collaborating for two months, the injury balm wouldn't take long to complete, as far as Snape could see. In the injury balm, Snape was mainly responding to Alphard's more in-depth researches with his specialist knowledge of ingredients and their transitional states. However, in the more esoteric research into the cure itself, Alphard was merely acting as a sounding board to the information he and Lupin were finding, although their researches were still preliminary. Either way, to Snape it was thrilling.

As Snape finished transcribing the last of Alphard's findings into his own notes, annotating them with his first thoughts, he felt Lupin's hands rest on his shoulders.

"It's late, Severus. Take a break from this now," said Lupin as he massaged the knotted muscles in Snape's shoulders. Snape stretched his shoulders and let Lupin's hands knead into the knots, turning his neck as he felt the relief as the muscles worked loose. Of course, there was a charm for this, but Lupin never used it. He said he liked to feel Snape relax under his hands. Snape smiled and closed his eyes.

"It's good news about Angharad, isn't it?" Lupin said.

"I suppose. But I was surprised," replied Snape, hoping Lupin would continue for a while. In truth, Snape had been startled by the news of Angharad's pregnancy at the end of Alphard's letter. He didn't know why. Angharad was certainly young enough to have more children. Somehow, in his mind, he had not thought of the three of them in the sexual sense since he had found out about Alphard's return to Idris. "I suppose I wonder how Alphard feels about his mate being a father to another's child.

Lupin stopped massaging Snape's shoulders (much to his disappointment) and sat next to him.

"Alphard came to that relationship. I don't doubt for one minute that Idris loves Angharad. I believe – completely without foundation of course," he smiled beautifully, "that Alphard will be delighted."

"But who will he _be_ to the child – that's what I don't understand."

"A close family pack-mate ..."

"Like an uncle?"

"I'm not sure what would be analogous in the Wizarding world since it doesn't permit polygamy. But I suppose an uncle is closest." Then Lupin frowned. "No, I'm not sure it will do. The child will grow up knowing that his parents share their relationship with another person and Alphard will be as close to that child as Idris and Angharad will be. It works within the pack."

Snape couldn't deny it blew his mind that Alphard had been so excited by it in his letter, but in that short time they had last been with the pack, the three had seemed completely at ease with each other – had been such a family. Snape also couldn't deny that now he had Lupin at home, he felt the draw more and more towards having a family of their own – if only the Dark Lord could be destroyed and he could be free. If only ...

oooOOOooo

When the Dark Mark burnt that night, the burn had not been fierce enough for him to cry out. Luckily, Lupin had been out of the room so Snape could compose himself as he fetched his robes and mask before he said his goodbyes to Lupin.

He hated to see Lupin's panic if Snape were hurt by the summons alone – he knew it meant that Lupin would be frantic with worry by the time he returned. Sometimes, of course, Lupin was right to worry. If Snape were honest - most of the time, Lupin was right to worry. But where Snape could, he hid his injuries from Lupin – made sure Poppy treated him with lotions and potions that, in all probability, had he not had Lupin to reassure, he would have eschewed.

He arrived at the manor, finding the Dark Lord in Lucius's study. He was calm and no other Death Eaters were in his proximity, hence the calm summons.

"Ah, Severus," the Dark Lord said, on seeing Snape. As Snape prepared to kneel, the Dark Lord touched his arm with the tip of his wand. "No need Severus. It is just us. Unmask and have a seat."

Snape schooled his expression to hide his surprise before he unmasked, and took the chair.

"Two full moons have passed since you managed to escape the werewolves, Severus."

Snape nodded in acknowledgement, his face immobile as his mind sped to what the Dark Lord might require from him.

"Do you have any ill effects from your wounds at the full moon?" the Dark Lord enquired.

"No, my Lord. I will always carry the physical scars ..." Snape stammered, his mind racing to try to understand what the Dark Lord wanted to know. Was it even possible that the Dark Lord knew the significance of the full moon to Snape? Surely not. Snape would be dead or dying already if the Dark Lord knew.

"... they are cursed wounds, yes. I understand. You don't transform? Change in any way?" The Dark Lord paused. "Lose your mind?"

"No, my Lord ... I am as I ever was ..." Quickly he realised what the Dark Lord would associate with the full moon, and he recovered his wits. "The first full moon, I stayed in my quarters in case I was mistaken, but I was unchanged in every way. This last full moon, I have taken up my experiments for the poison we had been working on. I hope I have not erred, my Lord," he hesitated for effect, "and that you still entrust this great and noble work to me – the least of your servants." He bowed his head.

The Dark Lord patted his head and Snape's scalp crawled.

"That is ... what I had hoped I would hear. I had indeed wondered why I had had no reports from you on this undertaking. It is important, Severus."

"Yes, my Lord." Snape knew he had to be tactful. He could not say that the full moon he had spent letting his own blood for the Dark Lord was wasted time! "I have had to re-acquaint myself with my researches, ensure all my ingredients are fresh ..."

"Yes, yes, of course." The Dark Lord waved his hand airily. "You are now re-acquainted with it all?"

"I am, my Lord. I am ready to begin again, with your leave – of course." Snape bowed again, wondering when in the world he would be free of this scraping subservience.

"Yes, with all diligence, Severus. When the Ministry comes to my hands, I will have all kinds of access to assist in its application to the Muggle population." The crimson eyes seemed alight with fervour. "I hope I will not have to wait too long."

"Every one of my spare waking hours is taken with experiments and research, my Lord," assured Snape, carefully eliding of truth of the nature of those experiments and research from his mind.

"I don't doubt you, Severus, even though others may," the Dark Lord drawled.

_Bellatrix._ Snape had no doubts that she had been undermining him again, ever more hungry for her place at the Dark Lord's right hand.

"I was very impressed by your resistance to the Imperius Curse, Severus. Your mind magic gets stronger. We must put it to work for us."

"My apologies, my Lord. That type of contact ... you know how I feel about it." Snape was sure Bellatrix would be trying to use that to undermine him further but Snape hoped to remind the Dark Lord of his own distaste of carnality – a shared aversion.

"I do, and your resistance proved it." The Dark Lord regarded him appraisingly for a while. "Your restraint is admirable. I wish more of my followers possessed it. Even the beast failed in his mission at last moon, although I suppose the lesson was still learnt by the child's blood-traitor mother."

Saying no more, he turned from Snape and Snape knew he was dismissed. Feeling both relieved and confused in equal measure, Snape said nothing but departed silently.

He knew the Dark Lord referred to savage murder of Hester Montgomery's youngest son. The Dark Lord had wanted him Turned and kept as a tool to blackmail the mother, one of the Wizengamot's chief attorneys and prosecutors. But Greyback had lost all control and slaughtered the boy. There almost wasn't enough Post-Cruciatus Potion to save him. Had he not been a werewolf with their extraordinary capacity to heal, Snape was sure Greyback would have died.

Of course, the Dark Lord was wrong. Hester Montgomery was a formidable woman. Snape had no doubt that she would never rest until she brought Greyback to justice. He just hoped her need for vengeance would not rebound on all werewolves.

oooOOOooo

It had been an exasperating Defence lesson with the sixth year Slytherins and Gryffindors. They were studying Dementors and Potter **had disagreed with Snape** vociferously **on the best way to tackle Dementors** despite Snape explaining that there could be times when a wizard simply was unable due to circumstances to Conjure a Patronus or where it would simply be unwise **.** He supposed he should have expected it, given Potter's proficiency with the Charm and that he would never want Snape to gainsay anything that his favourite Professor Lupin had said. It was all part of Potter's problem and why he would never be a truly great wizard, in Snape's opinion: his blinkered vision overshadowed enquiry.

"Yes, Potter," sneered Snape, as he leant against his desk at the front of the classroom. "We are all aware of your ability to Conjure a Patronus. After all, we all witnessed the spectacle at a Quidditch match in an insufferable overreaction to a prank, did we not?" Snape steepled his fingers. "Never let it be said that hundreds of hours of one-to-one tuition were wasted on you!" Snape's jaw tightened and he stalked to Potter's desk.

"It's a shame you haven't learnt any lessons other than those you choose to take on board. I am well aware that you, Potter, know of at least two other methods of dealing with Dementors."

The boy stared at him sullenly, and Snape's eyebrow rose as his lip curled.

"No? Don't remember?" Snape sighed dramatically. "You are aware - of course - that a transformed Animagus can evade a Dementor because its animal mind disguises the Animagus's true mental state." The boy flushed at the reference to his late godfather. Snape smirked unpleasantly as he paused and then delivered the insult he knew would hit the boy hard. "Or ... if one were _capable_ ... one could Occlude."

Snape's mouth twitched at the corners as Potter's eyes glittered as his flush deepened. Snape thought he would not tell Lupin this. He knew it was poorly done of him, but the boy's arrogance irritated him. He strode back to his desk. The Dementors were proliferating daily. Each competent witch and wizard should be able to find at least one way of dealing with them. The three mentioned were the hardest of all.

"One roll of parchment on the ways to deal with Dementors to be submitted next lesson. You already have three, but I expect you all to research these and other ways and the situations in which certain methods would be preferable to others. Dismissed."

oooOOOooo

By his last letter, in amongst research notes and Lupin's added note of effusive congratulations, Snape had arranged to meet Alphard at the busy Wizarding Exchange in Chester on the Welsh Marches. He told him where, the number of the booth in which he would be sitting and that he would be disguised. The meeting should take no longer than a couple of hours then he would return to Lupin.

As he left the school gates, he was convinced he saw a shimmer of magic in his peripheral vision. Wordlessly, he cast, _Homenum Revelio_ , and saw the figure of Thorffin Rowle under an aged invisibility cloak. He did not give any sign that he had seen him but, instead of Disapparating immediately, he started to walk the long road to Hogsmeade to see if he was the target of surveillance. Rowle followed.

Snape's stomach sank. Did the Dark Lord suspect him? Or was this a plot by another Death Eater? Surely the Dark Lord would never send a lumbering giant like Rowle on a mission of subterfuge. His lips thinned as he walked. Lumbering or not, Rowle would still be able to track his Apparition if he couldn't shake him. He got to the Hog's Head and exchanged greetings with Aberforth who grunted when Snape said he just wanted to use the Floo.

Yes, he'd have to say his destination out loud, but once he'd called out "The Leaky Cauldron!" and got to Diagon Alley, he could easily lose himself in the alley's evening hubbub. Snape made his way smartly and purposely towards Knockturn Alley, very much as if he had urgent business there, hearing from Rowle's heavy tread that he was keeping a good fifteen feet or so behind him. He turned sharply into a narrow mews and quickly Disillusioned himself. As Rowle rounded the turn, Snape cast a quick _Stupefy!_ and Rowle fell heavily on the ground. Snape moved quickly away and back into Diagon Alley. Rowle could fend for himself against the muggers and sneak-thieves who frequented the dark passages and byways of Knockturn Alley as far as Snape was concerned as he turned and Disapparated.

He Apparated first to the East End of London, the alley in fact where he had had an assignation with Lupin all those months ago. He walked three blocks then Disapparated to the fens of Norfolk and walked to an outlying pub he knew. From there, he Disapparated to the cathedral city of Rochester and walked through its mediaeval mews and shambles. He was sure then he had not been followed so he Disapparated to Chester.

The Wizarding Exchange was a huge building within the Wizarding environs of old Chester. Modelled on the old Exchange in the City of London, this was where the magical business community came to do their deals, exchanging their goods and bonds. It was not run by goblins, although they also had their seats on the trading floor. To the edge of the trading floor were a coffee house and an ale house. Snape had chosen the ale house.

He saw Alphard enter, nod to him and join him in the numbered booth in which he sat, hidden by his hooded cloak. He noticed several werewolves he had seen at the camp fan out around them – undoubtedly, Alphard's bodyguard. Idris was clearly taking no chances. If the other patrons of the ale house noticed the scruffy look of the werewolves, they did not let on. They had noticed Alphard, in his clothes as fine as anyone there. Undoubtedly, a rich man with his retinue, Snape suspected they thought. Alphard drew the brocade curtains to give them privacy and Snape took down his hood.

"Thank you for meeting me," said Snape, surreptitiously casting _Muffliato,_ then pouring Alphard and himself some ale.

"Not at all, although I confess I'm surprised that Remus isn't with you." Alphard accepted the drink and they both drank together.

"He doesn't know I'm here. I haven't told him or Dumbledore what I need to tell you."

"Oh?" Alphard didn't hide his surprise.

"If I tell them this, Remus will see it as his duty to assist and Albus will send Remus out ... well, it's taken me a long time to bring him back home. Being with the werewolves - the homeless Dark werewolves - erodes his self esteem, his – ah – gentle nature – I don't suppose I can make you understand. Idris and his pack are so very different from most werewolves. Civilised and ..."

"... human?" offered Alphard, with an understanding smile.

"If you will."

Snape proceeded to tell Alphard of the Dark Lord's plan for the Light packs once the Ministry fell. Alphard paled as Snape handed over a scroll of all the packs, Light and neutral at risk.

"You think it will happen then? The Ministry will fall?"

"The Dark Lord had a year unchallenged in which to recruit when Fudge refused to listen to reason. He made huge strides. He has people in place in the Ministry already ..."

"... but if you know who they are, can't you tell the ones you know are not in his pocket?" cried Alphard. "I don't understand this."

"Neither do I - on so many levels. Albus is the Chief Warlock on the Wizengamot, and yet this information is not shared. He believes that Scrimgeour is just as closed-minded as Fudge was, but for different reasons." Snape sighed. "Albus has his own plans, but I am not party to them." Snape hoped he did not sound as bitter as he felt.

"Thank you for warning us, Seth. Do you have any particular instructions or things for which we should be vigilant?" asked Alphard quietly.

"Be careful of strangers. Remus is no longer recruiting. The Dark Lord may well try infiltration as a tactic as he now knows the pack has strong ancient enchantments. But if the Ministry falls, all manner of powers for the breaking of enchantments will be available to them. You must shore up your defences. If I get word, I will send my Patronus so you are not taken unawares. At least then you will know the message comes from me." Snape inhaled deeply as he mustered his strength to bite out his next sentence.

"When it comes, do not ignore it – no matter what you may then think of me then ..." His voice stopped in his throat and he shut his eyes against the constriction. He had ventured too far, but if they thought him Dumbledore's murderer, they could well disregard his message.

"What do you mean?" pressed Alphard, but Snape could only shake his head and hope that Alphard remembered his words in times to come. Alphard seemed to understand as he pressed him no further.

Snape recovered himself, and removed his wand, and a piece of parchment.

"We need to conceal not only our experiments, but even your existence and certainly that I know you. I need to show you an enchantment for our correspondence. I will write short notes of little import to you, but when you cast this enchantment, it will reveal my true missive."

"Like the enchantment I saw you use when I was captured?"

"Exactly so." Snape nodded.

"When do we start using this?" Alphard said, as he practised the wand movement Snape was demonstrating.

Snape recalled Rowle tracking him.

"Immediately."

oooOOOooo

As Snape ate his poached eggs, Lupin read the paper to him.

"Mundungus has been sent to Azkaban," said Lupin, with a weary sigh. He shook his head as he continued to read. "He was burgling a house and ..." Lupin passed his palm over his face, "when he was caught, he pretended to be an Inferius."

"The man is a complete liability," snapped Snape. "He's only interested in what he can get for himself, and he certainly can't be depended upon. I told you, the Dark Lord wants me to target him above all the other Order members to put him under the Imperius Curse."

"He gets information from places most of us wouldn't go ..."

"Come now, Remus. Could you see him in the disused Underground tunnels trying to gain the allegiance of the Dark werewolves ..."

"I think we can agree that that was a rather specialist task," Lupin chided. Snape snorted.

"Well, I don't trust him."

"No. I understand. Honestly, I do, but he has given us good information in the past. He is still useful and ... oh!" Lupin gasped as he read something else intently. "Dear God," he whispered.

"What is it?" asked Snape, moving forward in concern as Lupin paled before him. Lupin folded the paper and handed it to Snape.

_Charles Dwyer, aged 9, was taken into custody by Magical Law Enforcement yesterday after administering Arsenic to his grandparents. Luckily, his mother, Amanda Dwyer, an Apothecary, detected the poison and called in MLE, suspecting a plot as her parents are renowned Muggle Rights activists, Lucien and Anastasia Goodwright. Upon investigation, it transpired that their own grandson, Charles, is the prime suspect although our sources in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement suspect that the child was placed under the Imperius Curse._

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose quite hard as Lupin took the paper back. He knew this would be the Carrows: it had their stench all over it. They took their twisted pleasure in inducting children into violence. Snape turned to speak to Lupin but he saw Lupin was now reading another page, a deep frown creasing his brow.

"Have you heard of Octavius Pepper?" he asked. Snape shook his head, but he could see upset in Lupin's face as Lupin turned the paper around so Snape could see the headline trumpeting his disappearance.

"Did you know him?"

"Yes. Quite well. He was another werewolf employed by Gringotts. Bill knows him too ..." Lupin inhaled sharply and Snape could hear the upset in Lupin's voice.

"We don't know he's dead, Remus," Snape said, placing his hand over Lupin's.

"I'm sure we'll know soon enough though."

Snape nodded. Greyback and his pack had been charged by the Dark Lord with targeting as many law-abiding werewolves as they could. Pepper worked quite openly for Gringotts in Diagon Alley. The goblins had no time for the anti-werewolf laws and the Ministry had no jurisdiction over the Gringotts building, established under Royal Charter. Three distinct transgressions of the proper and decent magical order, as far as the Dark Lord was concerned. Snape had no doubt Pepper's body would be discovered shortly. Although he was due to work on the Cruciatus Curse with his sixth formers today, he would have to re-visit the Imperius Curse sooner rather than later: their poor written work on the subject had shown him that. Perhaps, he should be looking at resistance lessons for the fourth and fifth years too ...

Even as he was thinking this, he watched Lupin's sadness, but Snape couldn't help but be relieved. He had removed Lupin from danger, and he was working in Oxford, anonymous amongst thousands of academics, magical and Muggle, none of whom knew Lupin was a werewolf. For now, from Greyback at least, Lupin was safe.

oooOOOooo

Snape was unhappy to have to accompany most of the sixth form to Hogsmeade for Apparition practice on the Sunday morning. It cut into his time at home. There was no possibility of being able to pull out though, especially as Minerva was staying at the school as Dumbledore was travelling, yet again. The only plus was that Draco was too young and so he was still confined to the castle, as was Potter. He supposed that might be a fortunate coincidence.

Being out in the open seemed to bring along some of the slower students. Even Weasley and Midgeon finally managed it. Thereafter, he and the other professors were obliged to ensure them all safely back to the castle after they had had a drink at The Three Broomsticks. None of it put him in a good mood.

On his return to the castle, his mood blackened even further when he saw Malfoy had left the Slytherin quarters for most of the morning. As he strode the corridors looking for him, his eyes narrowed as he saw the figure of Tonks walking towards him. He wondered if his day could get any worse.

"Are you not supposed to be guarding the school at its perimeter, _Miss_ Tonks?" sneered Snape, taking in her weight loss and pallid visage.

"Mind your own business, Snape. I'm an Auror. You don't get to question me." Her words might have been tough, but Snape could see her eyes were glassy – she was on the verge of tears.

"You are neglecting your duty, Auror Tonks. As a professor at this school, it has everything to do with me. Now state your business inside this castle."

"I heard werewolves working for Gringotts were being targeted by Voldemort. I came to ask Professor Dumbledore if Remus is all right. I haven't seen him for ages. Do you know? Do you still tend him after the moon?" she demanded.

"And if I told you to mind your own business?" asked Snape unpleasantly.

She looked defeated, but Snape did not pity her. She dug in her robe and brought out a letter.

"It's full moon next week. Please. If you do see Remus, will you give this to him? Please."

"Do I resemble an owl, Miss Tonks?"

"No, but you are my fellow Order member. I am asking you for this favour," she said, enunciating every word deliberately as if trying to hold herself together. Then she held out the letter again. He noted the slight shake to her hand. "Please."

Snape swiped the letter from her hand with a scowl, crushing his desire to cast _Incendio_ on the instant then turned on his heel and left her standing, gawping behind him.

His hands itched to open the witch's letter – to see what drivel she had written to Lupin. Of course, he wouldn't. _Damn her!_ His temper started to boil. _She had no right!_

oooOOOooo

Snape watched Lupin's face carefully as he read the letter, watching his expression sadden with every line. Lupin exhaled a small sigh at the end and handed the letter to Snape as he covered his own face with his hands in despair.

_Remus,_

_I hope you're ok. I was so pleased when Bill said you were working again but ever since Snape reported Greyback's plans to attack werewolves who won't join Voldemort, I've tried to find out how you are. I don't even know where you're living now. I've been to Grimmauld Place quite a few times now but I can see you're not using that as a base. Are you still doing special work for Dumbledore? I don't seem to be able to find out anything. The Order meetings become less frequent. Kingsley thinks Dumbledore's absences are due to his health. Do you know? Nothing seems to be going right._

_I miss you._

_There. I've said it. Will you forgive me for how I behaved that full moon? I was wrong to try to push you after all the years you must have grieved for Sirius, and then to have it stolen from you afresh. Please forgive me_

_Please can we try again? Give me the chance to show you that I can be enough for you? I don't care that you are a werewolf. You know that. I know you would never endanger me. I don't care about the age difference. It's irrelevant. I have so much love to give you, Remus. I can love enough for both of us. Please let us try again._

_All my love, your Dora xx_

Snape didn't know whether to be shocked by the shamelessness of the letter or by the desperation, but he could see that Lupin had been badly shaken by it.

"This has to stop, Severus. I feel like I'm killing her. We should speak to Albus. She needs to know the truth."

* * *


	96. Broken Fidelity

They had agreed they would approach Dumbledore after the next full moon. Although Snape would never reveal it to Lupin, part of him was desperate for Tonks to know the truth of them – to understand how greatly she trespassed in her propositioning of Lupin. He knew Lupin tried to be kind and understanding; but Snape found he just couldn't empathise with her – just couldn't understand how David had been put aside so readily.

"I think I understand, Severus," Lupin had said. "I believe it is easier for her to transfer her affection for David to me than having to confront her grief and deal with it."

"A coward's way out!" snarled Snape.

"Everyone copes in different ways," chided Lupin, softly. "And some can't cope at all. If only Albus hadn't Obliviated her, we could have helped her - especially you - you are the mate of a werewolf. You could have helped her."

"I am hardly the most empathetic man, Remus."

"But you would have. I know your heart, Severus. I saw the two of you in Romania - the understanding you shared. None of this would be happening if she hadn't been Obliviated," said Lupin, sadly.

"You are always ready to believe the best in people," Severus said, his voice gentling. "But I don't believe it changes how she has tried to replace her mate so quickly. No-one could replace you …" and Snape's voice stopped in his throat at the thought of it. Lupin pulled him close and caressed his face.

"Nor you. Not ever."

oooOOOooo

"You are sure, Severus?" asked Dumbledore, as he paced behind his desk.

"Five times now. Rowle outside the school gates. Alecto Carrow two days later, after the meeting, Amycus two days after that. Rowle followed me again to Hogsmeade on Friday and last night."

"And you're sure Voldemort has not given orders for it?"

"No, it's Bellatrix. She's constantly trying to undermine me." Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, recalling their argument after his last summons to the Dark Lord.

_"You still distrust me, Bella," said Snape, his eyebrow raised, as she had sneered at him as he left his audience with the Dark Lord._

_"Blood is everything, Snape! Blood will always out!" the witch spat at him, her eyes alight with fervour._

_How he longed to tell her that it was he, Severus Snape, who shared blood status with the Dark Lord – that of a Muggle father and a pure-blood witch – and how both had the taint of Lycanthropy. How he would enjoy her fury._

_"Why don't you tell our master just that, Bellatrix?" replied Snape silkily. "Tell him how half-bloods can never be worthy."_

_"I'm keeping my eye on you. I'll get the evidence and then we'll see who is trustworthy," she hissed back at him, like a she-cat._

_"Even if it means compromising the work I do for the Dark Lord? Having me followed by the most inept of spies? Really, Bella? What value will I have as a spy if the old man thinks I am not trusted?"_

_A malicious smile twisted Bellatrix's once fine features._

_"Trusted? I know you can't be trusted, Snape. And I'll get the evidence to prove it!" she hissed again._

_"And one by one your incompetent henchmen will fail just as they have consistently failed so far, not least because there is nothing for them to find," Snape curled his lip in disdain. Whilst Snape knew he had everything to hide, Bellatrix reckoned without Snape's own formidable skill and knowledge he had used in evading detection for many years now._

"It is dangerous to both you and Remus that she is constantly trying to track you. Please re-consider putting the flat on the Floo network, Severus. At least then, your Apparition from the castle perimeter to your flat will be unnecessary."

Snape's brow furrowed. He had resisted it for a long time. He had hoped to keep their home closed to outside access. To Snape, being on the Floo network would weaken the Fidelius. But now, there was another imperative: if one of Bellatrix's cronies managed to track him as he left the school for the flat, all could be lost. Flooing from the Headmaster's office would be safest, without doubt. If the Ministry fell - then Snape could disconnect the flat from the Floo network. Yes. Perhaps, it was workable after all.

Snape's mouth pinched then he nodded abruptly.

"Very well."

oooOOOooo

From the doorway at the appointed time, _Spiritus Vitae_ in hand, Snape watched Dumbledore in silence. Had it been anyone else, Snape would have thought they were unaware of his presence, but he knew Dumbledore was never unaware. So Snape stood and watched as Dumbledore traced the fingers of his uninjured hand over the stone wall behind his chair outlining something that only Dumbledore could see.

As Snape watched, the glint of something caught his eye. The Sword of Gryffindor lay on Dumbledore's desk. He frowned, but then Dumbledore spoke.

"This will be the place, Severus. When I die, this is where my portrait will appear."

"Why do I need reminding of that?" snapped Snape, bridling. Snape's jaw set as he wondered if Dumbledore delighted in tormenting him in his own subtle way as much as the Dark Lord delighted in his more obvious torments. Sometimes, it seemed that he did.

Dumbledore turned to him, and Snape felt a wash of remorse. Dumbledore looked more frail than Snape had ever seen him. It could only be a matter of months now, Snape was sure.

"Not a reminder," said Dumbledore, gently. "I need to teach you a Charm, Severus. It is a complex Charm. You will not be able to use it yet." Dumbledore sat himself in his chair and indicated to the chair Snape always took, and then Dumbledore's hand brushed over the hilt of the sword before he turned his attention back to Snape.

"Only the Headmaster can channel the stone of the castle or form tunnels through it and into the grounds. I need to teach this to you now. I confess, I've only used it once before -"

"- the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack?" finished Snape, his voice low.

"Precisely."

Dumbledore drew the sword from his desk and looked at it intently.

"I have had to make a number of plans in advance. One of them is to keep this sword safe after my death."

The sword usually sat in its glass case on the wall. Surely, it would be safe there. Snape's eyes flicked to the case and he gasped to see a second sword in the case.

"I don't ..."

Dumbledore raised his hand to quieten him.

"This," said Dumbledore, placing the sword back on his desk, "is the true Sword of Gryffindor. And that," he indicated with a small gesture of his hand, "is a transfiguration of an ordinary sword. It would fool any eye but that of a goblin."

"Why is this necessary?" asked Snape, peering at the sword.

"Ah! Yet another mystery, I'm afraid, Severus; and yet another service I must ask of you. My end could come at any time." Snape gritted his teeth but nodded abruptly. "To ensure the sword's safety should it be earlier than I hope, I am entrusting it to you for safe-keeping. Will you secret it in your quarters?"

"I, Albus?"

"You will be appointed as Headmaster ..."

"... I may be languishing in Azkaban! What of your precious sword then?" Snape hissed.

"I believe Voldemort will shield you until the Ministry falls. Then your appointment will be made. As soon as you are appointed, I want you to cast the Charm I will teach you to make a recess behind my portrait. It is there you can stow the sword so it will be safe."

"You talk in riddles, man," said Snape, gruffly, trying to hide his growing discomfort.

"A decoy, Severus. This duplicate will be a decoy when the time comes, but the real sword will be safe. The sword will be key to the downfall of Voldemort. It must be kept safe at all costs."

"How will I know the appropriate time?" asked Snape.

"I will guide you, of course," said Dumbledore mildly. Snape closed his eyes: _his portrait._ His portrait would gaze upon Snape every day. It sent an unpleasant shiver up Snape's spine.

"A constant reminder of my crime," he muttered.

"A reminder of your acts of compassion," said Dumbledore. He gave Snape a small smile of reassurance, then picked up his wand. "Come, Severus. Let us begin."

oooOOOooo

_Snape bolted through the corridors of the castle, his heart pounding hard, looking around himself for the one following him. Every time he had taken secret passageways or byways that he thought no-one else knew, he would hear his pursuer's footsteps within seconds of thinking he was safe._

_He had been trying to outrun his pursuer for a long time, but the he was unable to shake him. Snape knew, in the way of dreams, that he had to keep one step ahead to keep his pursuer away from the room in which he had stored his most precious secret._

_The pursuit was relentless and, no matter how fast Snape ran, the echoing footsteps gained on him and became louder, just like the thudding of his heart and the sound of blood rushing in his ears._

_Just when he thought his heart would burst with anxiety, Dumbledore appeared before him, and the pursuing footsteps faded from Snape's hearing, but his terror grew._

_"You know what you must do."_

_Dumbledore's face was illuminated by sickly green light and then Snape was running – running as fast as he could – and yet it was like wading through treacle. Others were coming for him now – hunting him - he felt their oppressive presence – legions of Dementors swooped towards him to sap his soul._

_"No! It was done to save my soul! Leave me!" Snape yelled at them, unable to Conjure even a non-corporeal Patronus as dread permeated every pore of his skin. Occlumency could not defend him from the Kiss._

_"But murder shreds the soul, Severus. You know that," a mirror image of himself said, arms crossed, sneering at him._

_"No," he gasped, as the weight of the Dementors' oppression became too much. "Not murder. No!" Snape fell to his knees as his good memories began to leach away from him, leaving him with his manifold memories of loneliness, betrayal and pain. He called out in distress._

_Suddenly, a huge silver wolf bounded forward, harrying the Dementors away from Snape's prone and gasping body._

_"Severus! Severus!"_

_"_ Severus," said Lupin gently as Snape awoke from the nightmare with a mighty gasp, sitting bolt upright, his whole body trembling and drenched in sweat, as strong, warm arms embraced his torso. Lupin's head rested against this shoulder.

"My love," whispered Lupin, and gentle hands caressed him to calm him. "Be still." Light, long fingers stroked his face gently as soft lips kissed his neck. Snape panted to control his breathing, listening to the calming tone of Lupin's voice.

"Dearest Remus," he managed to gasp as he rested his cheek against Lupin's head, feeling safe at last in the embrace of the man he loved, for who else understood the horror of Snape's nightmares and his desperate need for reassurance, if not fully the reasons why?

oooOOOooo

The full moon had come round again, to Snape, it seemed too quickly. And yet, they had regained their perfect trust in one another since the terrible full moon when Snape had discovered the truth of the fate of the boy. This time, before the moon, Lupin's taking of Snape had been the purifying ritual that it always seemed in Snape's mind, his many cares wiped from his mind completely by his acquiescence and abandonment to it, total and fulfilling.

The night had been restful between man and wolf, contented and quiet.

The morning came, fresh and new with spring in the air, even in London. Reverted once more, Lupin had curled around Snape, stroking his face, his own face buried in Snape's shoulder, murmuring his happiness. With the improvements to the Wolfsbane and healing potions, Lupin's healing was faster and more complete than ever. The days were growing longer, and they had a little time before both had to leave for work.

Snape drew his fingers along Lupin's jaw. The face he loved looked up to him, pale, but not too pale, blue eyes soft with love and then darkening with desire as Snape's fingers travelled gently along Lupin's throat.

Snape loved to see the longing in Lupin's eyes, to feel it in the warmth of the body held against him. His hands clasped his beloved's face and manoeuvred Lupin up to meet his face to kiss him softly, exploring him gently with his tongue and lips as Lupin pressed his body to his, a soft demand for the fulfilment of the waning moon.

A low moan escaped from Snape's throat, his desire for Lupin never diminishing, only ever increasing. It frightened him at times how his desire would burn so brightly with just the lightest of touches, his desire to touch and be touched, held and be held, fill and be fulfilled, never less than rapacious.

Their kissing became more urgent, soft hands on chests and backs became demanding as Snape leant forward, still kissing Lupin greedily, and pushed him onto his back and sat astride his thighs and then broke the kiss to sit up and survey his prize.

Snape stroked his hands up Lupin's body making him Lupin arch under his touch and then ran his hands over Lupin's shoulders and clasped his arms as he leant in to kiss him once more, his knee parting Lupin's legs underneath him so he could kneel between Lupin's legs before drawing himself over Lupin's body so their skins brushed against each other.

Lupin moaned softly into Snape's mouth, his own hand tracing Snape's spine and clutching his ribs each time Lupin pressed his already hard erection against Snape's stomach.

It was so tempting to take Lupin straightaway, consume him greedily this first day of the waning moon, but Snape always tried to wait – to savour Lupin's body being his once more. Even though his own body seemed to scream for urgent release, Snape subdued it.

Snape stroked Lupin's cock against his own flat stomach and watched the pleasure of it on Lupin's face, each grasping stroke pulling a gasp from Lupin's parted, moist lips. As Snape's stroke increased in speed and pressure, Lupin's gasps became louder until he pleaded with Snape to fill him, his hands raking through Snape's hair even as Lupin's hips thrust to the motion of Snape's hand, making Snape's own desire pierce through him repeatedly.

Snape's other hand left Lupin's balls to travel under and stroke into his body, eliciting a deep groan of pleasure from Lupin that shot through Snape's own groin immediately. It only took a few strokes of each of his hands in perfect timing on Lupin's writhing body before Lupin cried out that he could wait no longer. Nor could Snape. His own groin blazed and he could barely see, his eyelids had become so heavy and his eyes unfocused with hard and hot desire.

He placed himself to enter his beloved's body, and he looked up to find his lover's eyes, Lupin's eyes, meeting his – eyes that seemed to reach into his soul.

"I love you, Severus," Lupin whispered hoarsely.

Snape's heart beat hard but he pushed into Lupin's body as slowly as he could, Lupin's eyes seeming to burn into him as his own cock burned into Lupin's body, each man groaning in pleasure at the feel. Only when Snape was fully sheathed, did his eyes close and his head fell back as he gloried in the sensation, and then he moved deeply and slowly, rolling into Lupin who wrapped his legs high around Snape's body.

The extra depth of Lupin's angled body excited them both too much and Snape grasped Lupin's erection tightly to pace in time making him moan Snape's name almost constantly. Snape thrust hard and deep repeatedly and Lupin bucked in time until their pace became frantic, and then he felt the hot semen release onto his hand and stomach as Lupin shouted his name and his own pulsing waves of pleasure washed over him, colours bursting behind his eyelids, as he came fiercely into Lupin with a rough cry. He tried not to fall forward, but steadied his weakened, delirious body on his arm, panting hard and then slowly, so slowly, lowered himself into Lupin's waiting arms and the perfect contentment of knowing he was deeply loved.

oooOOOooo

The Dark Mark had burnt as the school day had ended, and the meeting had been one where the Dark Lord took his pleasures in torturing the captured Muggle-born Auror whom Yaxley had tricked into coming to the Manor alone. Snape had been Summoned to keep the prisoner alive with potions as long it pleased his Master.

The Auror's suffering had been long. Snape managed to add a fast-acting poison to the second dose that effectively closed down the wizard's nervous system so he would feel no more pain. Snape dared do no more without exposing himself but knew the man's face etched in agony would add itself to the miscellany of his nightmares.

"He has fainted, my Lord," Snape declared when the Dark Lord complained that the wizard did not scream. "His body can take no more."

The Dark Lord cursed the still breathing body over and over again, his fury unleashed as he shredded the wizard's insensate body until he tired of it and he irritably dismissed Snape. Snape bowed low and strode from the hall, nodding his goodbyes as he gained the Manor doors.

But then, something happened that made Snape freeze and his breath stuck in his throat.

In his pocket was the curtain ring that Dumbledore had Charmed all those years ago to alert Snape if Lupin activated his Charmed belt - the belt that Dumbledore had Charmed to take him through the Fidelius of the flat. Every day Snape had transferred it to the breast pocket of the shirt he wore. It was habit whenever Lupin was away from him, even just at work.

It resonated now against his heart.

Lupin had activated the Charm.

Waves of nausea swept over Snape as he struggled to keep his composure and he fought not to run to the perimeter. His husband was injured at the flat and Snape was fast becoming desperate even as he slowed his own walk.

As soon as he was clear of Malfoy's wards, his heart hammering hard in his chest and his skin cold with fear, he turned to Disapparate with the incantation Dumbledore had taught him to take him through the Fidelius of the flat.

" _Porta ad virum_ ," he mouthed silently and cleared his mind of all else to focus on the intention of the incantation as he turned into the suffocating constriction that compressed his body almost beyond endurance, feeling the bonding circlet on his arm squeeze.

It was only through a fug of fear as he turned out of his Apparition that he realised the clutch he felt on his upper arm was not his bond as his fearful mind had assumed. No – it was the long nails of a female hand clawed into his upper arm in side-along Apparition.

It was Bellatrix.

Snape didn't think twice about what he needed to do. As he turned to ground himself, he swung and hit her in the face first with his fist and then he flicked his spare wand from his sleeve as she reeled from the blow and cast a deep sleep Charm over her so that she crumpled unconscious at his feet and spun back to see Lupin collapsed, face down, on their living room floor.

"Remus!" Snape's cry was strangled as he saw the unnatural angle of Lupin's body and a spreading bloom of blood on the carpet beneath him.

Snape fell to his knees, casting the wand over Lupin. Lupin's pulse was weak and his breathing laboured and his knuckles were skinned and bruised from fighting and slashed in defensive wounds.

"Tippy!" growled Snape, his mind racing to deal with both Lupin and Bellatrix. The house-elf appeared before him, her eyes widened and her ears flattened with apprehension as she saw Lupin.

"See the witch there? Bind her so she can neither hear nor see nor move. Bind her fast, Tippy!" ordered Snape.

The elf nodded, her eyes flicking worriedly to Lupin then she quickly moved away.

Snape leaned forward to slip his arms under Lupin to move him so he could see his injuries and inhaled sharply as he saw the bruising to his face and blood from his nose and mouth.

Snape Levitated Lupin gently, ensuring no part of him was unsupported, so he could see better. As he moved Lupin, he saw the blood blossom through his clothes at his flank and stomach, and he groaned in horror. He Vanished Lupin's clothing with a sharp flick of his wand to find the injuries.

"Sweet Merlin, no!" he gasped sharply at the sight of many stab wounds, too many for him to heal with his wand in time. He had to stop the bleeding before he could do anything more. His vision had narrowed down now to nothing more than Lupin and his needs, his black eyes glittering with concentration and fear.

He Summoned his potions store from the bathroom and snatched at the phial containing a clear liquid and spelled it into Lupin's body. Immediately, the blood flow slowed and then stopped completely. As did Lupin's breath.

Snape's breathing was fast and ragged as he began to take in the damage to Lupin's body and raised his shaking hands to cast the healing spells.

"Professor Snape, let Tippy," said Tippy gently. "The witch is secure." Tippy was now at Snape's side and she took over the Levitation as Snape cast to knit and heal the deep knife wounds. Snape didn't even think to question whether Tippy had bound Bellatrix effectively. He knew better now than to ever doubt this house-elf's magic.

One by one, he carefully healed each and every stab wound – he counted sixteen, three different blades – and with each count, his heart hammered harder, his jaw became tighter and his dark eyes blazed. _How and where had this happened? Who had done it?_ He would kill them – without compunction.

Once the stab wounds were all healed, Snape applied Dittany to the abrasions and cuts to Lupin's hands and arms. As he worked, he described the treatment to Tippy.

"I have given Master Lupin the Draught of Living Death. To all intents and purposes, he is dead to the world but, in truth, he is held in suspension. Bruising will not come until the Wiggenweld Potion is administered to bring Remus round. When the counter-potion is administered, it will also be the time to administer the Internal Injury Potion and the Blood Replenishing Potion."

Tippy listened avidly, nodding to show that she'd understood, even as she kept Lupin's body steady in mid-air.

"Shall Tippy put Master Lupin to bed now?" asked Tippy.

Snape stopped short and stared at the elf and then looked askance at Bellatrix, the sudden realisation of what her presence meant to their home hitting him full force.

"The flat is no longer safe for Master Lupin," he said, his voice hoarse, his chest full, and he breathed deeply to steady his nerves once more. "You need to take him to Madam Pomfrey at Hogwarts. Tell her exactly what I have told you. When you are sure Master Lupin is safe with Madam Pomfrey, come back to help me."

"Professor Snape is not coming?" squeaked Tippy in surprise.

"I must clean up here first." He stroked the back of his hand over Lupin's cheekbone, his pallor deathly, his breath stopped. Snape felt his throat obstruct even though he knew Lupin was not dead. A rogue tear escaped his eye and he leant over and kissed Lupin's paling lips.

"Take care of him, Tippy."

"Of course, Professor Snape."

With that, she and her charge were gone and Snape stared at the witch bound and gagged magically on the floor just feet from the pool of sticky blood, a livid bruise forming on her cheek where Snape had struck her. He wanted to strike her again. No. He wanted to kill her. He stood over her, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, his dark eyes alight with hatred.

He and Lupin no longer had their protected home. After all his fears about a Floo connection, Snape himself had brought her through the Charm.

The Fidelius was broken.

oooOOOooo

It took time for Snape to compose himself, but he knew there was so much he had to do. Ensuring Bellatrix was still secured, he placed further spells on her with his spare wand so she could see and hear nothing. He was sure the elf's Charms were good, but he had to be certain. Lupin's life depended on him. Once he had completed the Charms, he set about going through every room in the house, collecting and packing each and every one of their possessions. The kitchen first, even ensuring Tippy's nest was packed too; the bathroom; the living room, taking care to ensure all the packing spells did not disturb the order of their respective research papers and books. He moved like an automaton, his attention fixed on one goal only: to remove every trace of their married life from this dwelling.

Then he went to the bedroom. His chest heaved painfully as he entered the room – their bed, where he spent those perfect nights in Lupin's arms, safe and loved as he had ever been, where so many interludes of perfect passion had been spent. This was his home now. He didn't want to leave it. He sat on the corner of the bed and slowly grasped a handful of the counterpane. He so didn't want to leave it. He squeezed his eyes tightly. He had to be strong. The Charm was broken. He would find a new place for them. He inhaled sharply to focus himself: he had work to do.

Then he heard the flare of the Floo and, wand at the ready, he crept to the living room door in time to see Dumbledore unfold gracefully from the fireplace, his own wand in hand.

"Dear boy," Dumbledore said, relief evident in his tone as Snape stood in the doorframe to show himself. "Tippy told me everything." Dumbledore strode into the room, heading directly towards Bellatrix. "I've asked her to remain with Remus whilst you and I take care of things here. Remus is doing well, Severus. Poppy tells me it will be a while before he's fully recovered, but he will be fine – thanks to you."

Snape felt his breathing ease as he watched Dumbledore cast quickly over Bellatrix and then he nodded to himself, then turned and cast to siphon the pool of blood from the carpet. Snape looked away from it as he began to tell Dumbledore everything from when he had been alerted by the Charm.

"But I don't know who hurt Remus."

"I received word from Bertie," said Dumbledore, adding when he saw Snape's quizzical look, "the wizarding liaison with the Master of Trinity College. Remus was not the only one attacked in the library precincts." Dumbledore sat and sighed heavily. "Another researcher for Gringotts, Jerome Porter, was also attacked by werewolves. There is no doubt, I am afraid, that they were Greyback's."

"This Porter ... he is a werewolf?"

Dumbledore nodded. "He did not survive."

Snape felt his knees weaken. He perched on the arm of a chair to stop himself stumbling. He had not known Greyback had received information on Lupin or any other werewolf at the university. Who was giving them information on Gringotts' employees? Why did Snape not know this? This was how dangerous it was to be out of the loop.

He felt as if he were drifting far away from his body. Had Lupin not carried that Charm Dumbledore had given him, he would be lost. Snape screwed his eyes shut. As it was, they were losing their home, and it wouldn't be possible for Lupin to work now if Snape could not get this information. It was simply not safe. Snape had always sworn he would do anything to keep Lupin safe.

"Let us finish here then give me your spare wand."

Snape nodded, then added, "I will need a memory to take to the Dark Lord."

They both stood, Dumbledore much more slowly than when he had first come through the Floo.

"What sort of memory, Severus?"

"One to ensure Bellatrix is dissuaded from following me again."

"So be it."

oooOOOooo

Snape Apparated at the gates of Malfoy Manor with Bellatrix in his arms. He gave the salute to show his Dark Mark and passed through, Levitating her unconscious form before him, his face settled into a genuine scowl of fury. He marched straight to the great hall where the Dark Lord was conversing with Yaxley and Wilkes. With a flourish, he dropped her at the Dark Lord's feet.

"My Lord!" He bowed and then went onto his knees. "Tell me what I have done to incur your displeasure, I beg you! All my years of work, my Lord!"

"What do you mean, Severus?" The crimson eyes were narrowed as he looked between the supplicant and the unconscious woman at his feet.

"Bellatrix followed me in my Disapparition to an Order safe house! Broke its Fidelius! The old man speaks of never trusting me again. What have I done to deserve this, my Lord?" His voice was small and weak, he hoped he judged the right amount of desperation.

"You Stunned her?"

"I hit her, my Lord. As soon as I saw Dumbledore there! I had to!" Snape did not take his eyes off the floor.

"Look at me, Severus."

He knew it would happen. He and Dumbledore had prepared for it. His eyes found the Dark Lord's.

_Legilimens!_

The Dark Lord ripped through his mind, finding the shreds of prepared memory of Dumbledore sneering at Snape, questioning his loyalty, deriding his competence, casting restraining and silencing spells on Bellatrix.

_"How can you tell me Voldemort trusts you when he sends his least efficient servant to follow you? You disgust me ..."_

Even though Snape knew it to be a concoction, that final phrase sent a wave of nausea through him in its echo of that terrible confession Snape had made to Dumbledore. The Dark Lord withdrew from Snape's mind, a sneer on his face having felt Snape's shame.

"I did not order Bellatrix to follow you. Stand, Severus."

Snape stood unsteadily, his head throbbing from the violent intrusion.

"She does not trust me, my Lord. I am impure to her."

The Dark Lord nodded, but his sneer turned on his unconscious lieutenant.

"That may be, but she has jeopardised your position. I have plans for you and we need the old man's trust ... for now. Unless she has evidence ..."

"Indeed, my Lord." Snape bowed low again, moving backwards so that the Dark Lord's attention would focus on Bellatrix.

 _"Rennervate!"_ sang the Dark Lord and Bellatrix groggily came to and started as her eyes met the peering crimson of the Dark Lord's.

"My Lord, my Lord," she gabbled, holding her face, suddenly aware of the pain, scooting backwards, doubtless feeling the dangerous reverberation of the Dark Lord's magic.

"Why were following Severus, Bella?" he hissed. "Why did you jeopardise his position?"

"My Lord, he can't be trusted. I won't have him fail you! Today has just proved it! He bound me and gagged me! Why would he need to do that if he was true to you, my Lord?" she screeched, each declaration more hysterical than the last.

"My Lord. I did no such thing. I have freely admitted that I knocked her out. I had to! Dumbledore was there and an Order member was in residence at the safe house. I was due to give him a potion but Bellatrix hitched her way through the Fidelius! Now they'll abandon it."

"Your wand, Severus." The Dark Lord held out his white hand and Snape handed over his own wand, the wand that would show no Charms of restraint or silencing, healing or clearing. The Dark Lord disgorged the previous spells, showing nothing of the spells that Bellatrix claimed. He curled his lip at her.

"My Lord … my Lord," she stuttered, pointing at Snape wildly. "He must have used another wand!"

"My Lord," Snape murmured, his tone measured and reasonable, his hands outspread. The Dark Lord turned to him. "Bellatrix surely does not understand how her actions could undermine the trust I have worked on all this years with Dumbledore! If I do not have access to the safe house in future, then who know how much information I shall miss. It matters not that _she_ trusts me ... she needs to understand."

The Dark Lord nodded slowly, as if weighing up what Snape had said.

Bellatrix swayed nervously, her fingers twitching at her side.

"I was misguided, my Lord …" she whispered, her eyes wide and wild.

"You were stupid, Bellatrix! You seem to believe your judgement is better than mine, more acute perhaps?"

Had she not cost him so much, Snape would have felt victorious, but his heart still ached to have seen Lupin so terribly injured.

"No, no! My Lord, I beg you! It is only because …"

The Dark Lord's curse stopped her words.

_"CRUCIO!"_

Snape watched the witch writhe in the air as she screamed as the Dark Lord twisted his wand to ratchet up the pain she must feel for her act of treachery. There could be no real pleasure to watching it for Snape – just the grim satisfaction that she would think twice before trying to trap him again. But the cost – oh, the cost! His wonderful home with Lupin dismantled – their things, their memories, their life! He would have to find somewhere new for them – set up again, work a new Fidelius … without Dumbledore. He was surprised how much that distressed him.

When it seemed that Bellatrix could scream no more, the Dark Lord cancelled his spell, throwing the witch away from him.

Snape stood impassive, awaiting his dismissal as the Dark Lord stood watching Bellatrix twitch on the floor.

"I know she is foolish, Severus, but I cannot have her jeopardise your position like that again. I need my spy in the Order. It is too late for me to recruit anew. Do you agree?"

"Of course, my Lord," agreed Snape, distractedly.

"Good." The Dark Lord turned to him fully. "Stand before me now."

Snape realised then, he had not had his wits about him. The Dark Lord was preparing to cast, and Snape did not recognise the wand movement but he could translate the incantation as the Dark Lord spoke it.

A Tracing Jinx.

oooOOOooo

It was dawn when Snape returned by the Floo to the castle. He was desperate to see Lupin, to ensure the Wiggenweld Potion had been administered and all was on the mend. Being away from Lupin's side for these hours had been torture but he had known he could not follow his heart if Lupin was to be safe.

As Snape stepped through the fireplace, he saw Dumbledore waiting for him. He pressed Snape to sit, although Snape protested that he needed to see Lupin.

"He's still unconscious, Severus."

Snape looked startled.

"No, do not be worried. He's had the antidote to the Draught, but Poppy's keeping him unconscious for a while yet whilst his body recovers from the shock of Apparition whilst so badly injured."

"Did we do more harm than good?" whispered Snape, leaning forward in anxiety.

Dumbledore shook his head.

"Remus would have died had you not been able to help him so quickly, Severus. You did all the right things."

Snape sat back as Dumbledore gave him a phial of healing potion. Snape took it gratefully. His head was pounding still, not just from the Dark Lord's Legilimency, but tiredness and stress. He held his head in his hands as the potion worked quickly to dispel the crippling headache.

Then Snape told Dumbledore about the Tracing Jinx that the Dark Lord had worked on him.

"So he can know where I am at any given time and Bellatrix has no cause to do anything rash. As I understand it, it cannot take him through a Fidelius or any such protective enchantment, but he will know I am at a Charm-protected place and how long I stay there," finished Snape, and he slumped in his chair. He blinked and then sat forward again. "But you can remove it," said Snape confidently. "Can't you?"

Dumbledore regarded Snape, his face inscrutable, as he stroked his beard. A nervous shiver snaked down Snape's spine.

"Well, can't you?" demanded Snape.

"I think, Severus, the question is more: should I?" said Dumbledore.

Snape's jaw slackened in shock.

"We need to consider everything in its totality, Severus. Your safety. The safety of Remus. Your position now and in the future ..."

"My position?" repeated Snape, his voice hollow as a chilling realisation of Dumbledore's priorities settling like a weight in his stomach.

"Think, Severus! How can you keep Remus safe if the Dark Lord knows where you stay and for how long? And if you endanger Remus, you endanger yourself and the Vow you have made to me." Dumbledore stood suddenly as if resolving something for himself.

"We will work a new Fidelius," snapped Snape, but Dumbledore cut him short, speaking slowly and deliberately.

"And who will be your Secret Keeper? Who could resist Voldemort tearing the secret from them? Won't Voldemort require an explanation why you stay away from Hogwarts every night at a secret address? Won't that damage your cover and compromise Remus's safety even more? Think, Severus! Think!"

"Remus must stay here then. He will be safe here. With me." Snape stood, a cold sweat having popped across his body, his body beginning to tremble imperceptibly in apprehension.

"And when I am dead? How will you account for his presence here in your quarters? How would you protect yourself or Remus from Voldemort's wrath if he ever discovered the truth of your bond?" Dumbledore ceased his pacing and turned to Snape, his blue eyes piercing him once more.

"Severus. I must ask even more of you than I ever thought I would." Dumbledore regarded Snape with such pity that Snape felt his blood freeze.

"If you truly love Remus ... you must leave him. It is the only way."

 

* * *


	97. Sanctity of the Soul

Snape looked at Dumbledore, revulsion and horror etched on his face.

"I said, you must leave Remus, Severus."

"I heard you."

"Your obsession with him clouds your judgement …"

"My obsession?" Snape whispered dangerously. "The man bonded I with – an obsession? Perhaps … perhaps, Albus, this type of love is only welcome to you when it serves your purposes – your 'greater good'!" he seethed, speaking quickly and vehemently. "How can you say it clouds my judgement? We have done everything you have asked of us. Everything! We have denied you nothing! My safety?" Snape gestured with a sarcastic flourish, " – at your feet! Remus's safety – you have trespassed on it a thousand times! We have given you everything you have asked – no! demanded of us! And now you want our very souls?"

"Severus. Severus," Dumbledore said, urgently, his unblemished hand clenched for emphasis. "Listen to yourself. You are not thinking with a clear head. This is exactly what I mean. How can you possibly work towards your fulfilling your Vow if all you will think about now is how you get to spend time with Remus? Now that it will be nigh on impossible for you to do so without risking his and your safety, you will spend your time and energy on that and not on the tasks you need to fulfil if we are to rid the world of this great evil."

"If you remove the Jinx then we do not have any more of a problem then we had before," Snape said, his anger mounting.

"Voldemort will know if I remove it, then he will either replace it and his scrutiny of you will be ever more intense, or Bellatrix will continue following you – and one day, one of them will catch you out!" Dumbledore had a snatching gesture, making Snape flinch. "It is just too dangerous now, Severus – for both of you."

As much as Snape struggled to think of a way around Dumbledore's scenarios, he could not see it. Ever greater panic rose inside him, like a core of heat in his chest, threatening to burst out of his ribs with each breath that tore from him.

"Must I give up everything I love, Albus? He is all I want. Just him. I have done everything you asked …"

"And your vow to Lily is nothing," Dumbledore said softly – devastatingly.

"That's untrue," whispered Snape, the accusation stinging like a whip.

"You cannot fulfil your vow to Lily when all you think about is Remus. You gave me your vow Severus. 'Anything.'" Dumbledore sat back in his chair, with an air of finality. "I am asking for this."

If Dumbledore made it a condition of his Vow, Snape had no choice. Snape tasted the bile rise up in his throat.

"Albus, no ... I beg you, do not ask it of me," pleaded Snape.

"It is the only way."

Snape's head hung in misery as he stared at his clenched fists in his lap, the room silent but for the clicking of the phoenix.

"Why don't you Obliviate me then and be done with it!" Snape hissed. "Then you will have me as I was before: empty and alone! Your perfect puppet!"

"Your existence is so wrapped up in Remus, to do so would be to risk the integrity of your Occlumency. You would become worthless as a spy."

He had considered it then! Snape wondered when – how long ago this had been running through Dumbledore's mind. _Hateful, foul old man._

"No." Snape's voice was no more than a puff of air. He shook his head slowly and repeated the denial. "You are telling me that I may never be with Remus properly whilst the Dark Lord lives. How do you expect either of us to live without each other? You understand the nature of the bond we have, what separation means for both of us ..."

It pained Snape to have to even refer to the magical and physical links that bound them inextricably to each other. These were not unwelcome fetters to Snape - they were bonds they had freely undertaken to enmesh themselves physically and emotionally together for their natural lifetimes – their souls bonded together forever. To remind Dumbledore of it felt to Snape as if he sullied those intimate bindings they had worked so diligently to forge.

"I understand all too well, Severus." Dumbledore smiled, almost paternally. Snape did not trust the smile this morning. "I provided for it." Snape's brow furrowed with confusion. Dumbledore sat forward and continued. "Those are Ancient Greek male bonding circlets. Both men may take wives to breed children: it is part and parcel of their design. It does not break the Bond. With Nymphadora Tonks, Remus would be cared for; never on his own again. That is what you want isn't it ... Remus to be safe and cared for?"

A low moan of misery escaped from Snape's throat as the heat of fury and freezing terror both possessed his whole body. He felt his jaw tremble with barely suppressed rage.

"It was all a trick, wasn't it?" he hissed. "To get Remus to rely on her, not me? You planned this as soon as I confessed our weakness. You saw it! You exploited it!"

"No, I merely assisted you both with a solution to your problem then. The same solution is open to you now."

"That woman does not love Remus! She loves another – a dead man! And Remus doesn't love her. What kind of men do you take us for? What are you condemning us to? Your solution has become nothing but a further curse on the three of us!" Snape snarled. "Perhaps, I shall not assist you in this ... this great endeavour after all!" Snape gesticulated as he spluttered.

Dumbledore regarded him mildly, no more perturbed by Snape's rage than he would have been by a child's tantrum. He waited, just a few moments until Snape, his breathing harsh and his knuckles whitened in fists, was discomfited by his unwavering gaze. Then, his voice hardened, Dumbledore continued, his demeanour brooking no dissent.

"You have sworn to me, Severus. To the memory of your friend. Perhaps I should tell Remus of your vow. Of why you need redemption. How it was you who told Voldemort of the Prophecy."

"I shall tell him myself. He will forgive me. He will understand," Snape said, his voice thickening as his skin crawled with shame.

"Will he?" Dumbledore regarded Snape over his glasses, that look of pity now returning to his face. "Will a man like Remus understand that you were prepared to sacrifice the life of a baby and his father to save your friend for yourself? How would Remus feel about you then?"

The threat took Snape's breath away. How could Dumbledore unerringly find that secret, that one terrible secret Snape had wanted to take to his grave unspoken?

Snape felt as if the air had been sucked from his lungs. He could never bear Lupin to know that thing – that one thing that would show Lupin how unworthy his Bondsman was. Snape's rage washed away.

Dumbledore had everything: Snape's Vow and Snape's secret. Snape had nothing to bargain with. He was helpless. Hopeless.

He could muster nothing more than whisper. "So I must lose everything? I can keep nothing that is special to me?"

"You get to keep Remus alive in the world. Your way, you will both surely die."

Snape's head swam; all his certainties bled away. If Lupin died then Snape had nothing to live for.

Better Lupin alive in the world.

"Remus ..." Snape croaked and then coughed, finding his voice deserting him. "Remus will not let me go."

"You are the greatest dissembler I know. You fool your master at every meeting. You are telling me you cannot lie to Remus? That you cannot walk away from the danger you pose to him?"

Snape's black eyes, glistening with tears of heartbreak, tore themselves from Dumbledore.

"One day you'll push too far and I will break."

He stood unsteadily and then turned to leave.

"I need some air," he gasped, and fled from Dumbledore's office.

He could have used the Floo to get to the infirmary quickly, but he had not lied – he needed air. He felt as if his airways had shrunk and he could never breathe easily whilst he remained in Dumbledore's presence.

He sped down the stairs, and then stairway after stairway until he reached the nearest open-air quadrangle. He leant heavily against one of the ancient pillars, his breath rasping, clawing at his own collar, as if loosening it would somehow help.

He had to master himself before he saw Lupin. He could not go to him rank with the stench of terror and hopelessness. The smell would invade Lupin's senses, he knew. Even if magically unconscious, Snape could not have the stench pervade Lupin's senses, wending its way insidiously into his dreams.

Snape inhaled the crisp Scottish morning air. Yesterday morning, he had smelt spring in the air of London and made love tenderly to his husband; today, the spring air was acrid in his nose, his stomach roiled with Dumbledore's demand to leave the man he loved beyond all else.

He had promised Dumbledore anything – he couldn't deny it. But back then, he had had nothing like Lupin to lose when he had made that promise – he had not known there would be something so very precious to him, dearer than his very life and soul.

His body was calmer as he desperately tried to master himself, and he looked through one of the archways across the Black Lake, where the sun was rising, dappling on the water. He needed to be out of sight before the students began to stir. He pushed himself away from the pillar and walked carefully, slowly at first and, when he felt his breath was regular and his mind carefully Occluded, he began to walk more purposefully until he gained the doors of the infirmary.

"Oh Severus!" called Poppy. She came bustling towards him, and with no ceremony began to cast over him, even as he continued to walk towards the side ward where he knew Lupin would be, oblivious to all else. "Stand still, boy!" she snapped.

Snape blinked in numb shock at Poppy, and she smiled gently at him.

"Let me check you over before you go to him."

"I want to ..." his voice was hoarse.

"I know, dear. Just let me check you. You look unwell." Her eyes never left his. "Come along now. It will only take a couple of minutes."

He nodded blindly, and let her cast, but his eyes were drawn back to the door of the side ward once more.

_Vital seconds,_ he thought to himself. _I could be missing vital seconds with him._

"Albus gave you post-Legilimency Potion, yes?"

Snape nodded mutely.

"Will you take a Calming Draught? Your pulse is much too fast. You need to rest."

Snape looked back at her, his black eyes deep and stricken.

"No," he murmured. "Please ... let me go now."

If Poppy had been inclined to argue, she didn't show it.

"Come on then, dear," she said, brushing down her apron as she bustled to the side ward and opened the door for him. "He'll be unconscious for at least the next twelve hours whilst his body gets over the worst of his blood loss and Apparition." She caught the tips of Snape's fingers and gave them a small squeeze. "You saved his life, Severus."

Snape's eyes flicked to meet her kind, concerned gaze. He could only nod: to speak would be to betray the complete devastation he was feeling.

"I've made provision for you to stay. Albus will see to your students today. You won't be disturbed – except by me, of course." She dropped his hand. "I'll leave you then." And she was gone.

Snape stood at the doorway to the side ward and sagged against the frame as he saw Lupin for the first time, looking for all the world as if he slept. Poppy's provision was that the bed was wide enough to accommodate them both. Snape would have been touched, but he couldn't feel anything other than the pain in his heart. His ribs hurt as he tried to suppress the pain as he looked at Lupin's face, calm in unconsciousness.

In the eerie silence of the break of day, the noise of Snape's robes rustling as he sat on the bed seemed extraordinarily loud. He threw off his robe and boots and, in just his shirt and trousers, leaned over and stroked Lupin's hair away from his face. As he drew his legs up and laid himself on his side, next to Lupin, facing him, draping one arm over Lupin's chest, he exhaled heavily.

He would never tire of looking at that beloved face. How could Dumbledore ask it of him? How could he do it to himself – deny himself what had been his life for the past four years? Every breath he took hurt. He placed his hand over Lupin's heart and closed his own eyes to try to regulate his heart beat with Lupin's steady pace as he thought.

He had given Dumbledore his deepest oath – a geas – that he would do anything Dumbledore required. It was deep magic. It simply wasn't possible for him to break it without losing his soul – the soul he had bonded to Lupin's.

He would damn his own soul in a heartbeat to be with Lupin but if he broke the geas to stay with Lupin, he condemned both their souls in perpetuity. He had no right to condemn Lupin's gentle soul. Snape couldn't see how he could escape Dumbledore's cruel requirement without damning his beloved.

The realisation made his heart seize painfully. He gazed at Lupin's face intently as he drew a gentle finger along the bridge of Lupin's nose and across the Cupid's bow of his full lips as if imprinting the look and feel of these features in his brain. He moved closer so his body just touched Lupin's arm. He traced the tips of his fingers with a touch as soft as gossamer over Lupin's cheekbone. _Had there ever been anyone so beautiful?_

_Once, you thought Lily was this beautiful,_ his mind supplied. _You gave that vow to redeem your tainted soul._ It was true. He still bore that responsibility like a weight. The stain on his soul that could only besmirch his Bond if he ran from it.

His throat became full. Tears burnt his eyes. He tried to fight them, fight back the sobs that threatened to burst from him. Lupin mustn't feel this in his sleep. He bit his lip and breathed in and out deeply, his hand leaving Lupin's chest to hold his shoulder instead as he pressed his face into Lupin's arm, savouring the feel of his skin, inhaling Lupin's scent to try to calm himself.

He didn't know if he was strong enough to do it. He could no more run from his vow to Dumbledore than run from his Dark Mark. Running from either would see him dead or losing his soul; running from either could see the destruction of the man he loved.

He lightly kissed Lupin's upper arm where the bonding circlet sat and then rested his forehead against it, as if he could somehow draw strength from it to do what he must: he had to distance himself from Lupin.

Snape had sworn to keep Lupin safe.

But Snape would not – could not – leave Lupin to his curse. Lupin must have love and companionship. And Snape knew where to find it for him. It would break his heart to do it, but he would not have Lupin believe himself to be alone. Snape himself would arrange matters with Tonks.

He inhaled Lupin's scent once more.

Finally – this was how far he had come. He had been selfish with Lily – he had wanted her to himself and so had endangered her. He would give anything to be with Lupin but not at the cost of his beloved's life and soul.

Snape was selfish no more.

He ignored the tears that ran freely down his face, and kissed Lupin's arm softly again and held it desperately. He ached to sleep in Lupin's arms, nightmares held at bay by just his husband's presence alone. His breath hitched in misery. Not to have Lupin at all! How would he have the strength to carry on? Part of him wished Dumbledore _could_ Obliviate them both: it would be kinder.

As much as his mind raced, his body ached for sleep to strengthen and repair it. The imperceptible tremble of it began to increase until he shook as if freezing and a clammy sweat broke across his skin. His breath began to hitch again as he gasped for air.

Poppy's Monitoring Charm must have alerted her as she rushed into the room within seconds and raced, not to Lupin, but to Snape. She clasped his wrist for his pulse and then cast to check him physically, finally checking his eyes. She Conjured another blanket and wrapped it over him, then spelled away his own damp clothes from underneath the blanket.

"Severus," Poppy chided. "You're in shock. You must rest."

He could barely comprehend what she was saying as he seemed to swim in and out of consciousness, but he knew he couldn't leave Lupin. He grasped his arm tighter even as she moved him onto his back and elevated his legs.

"All right, all right!" she soothed. "I won't separate you."

Then she placed some Hydrating Gel on his tongue which dissolved, leaving a pleasant liquid trickling around his parched mouth and coating his hoarse throat, easing his breathing.

"I don't know what your blessed master has done to you this time, Severus, really I don't," she muttered as she checked him again. "I suppose whatever it was on top of Remus being so badly hurt was the last straw, eh?" She placed a cool hand on his brow. "Please let me give you some Calming Draught or some Dreamless Sleep. Remus won't wake for hours yet. I promise it'll wear off before he wakes." Poppy smoothed Snape's hair as she spoke. "You must rest too or you're no good to anyone."

Snape's tormented black eyes found hers. She smiled reassuringly at him.

Sleep. Oblivion. He longed for it. His hand tightened around Lupin's arm once more. Still with him. Still there. But if he slept, he knew there would be nightmares. The trembling was decreasing as the gel rehydrated him and eased his breathing. How many more times would he be able to sleep with Lupin? Rest in the crook of his shoulder, wanted and loved?

"Dreamless Sleep," he managed to gasp. "Not too much. Please." His eyes implored her. The softness in her usually business-like expression showed she understood.

"Not too much, I promise you."

She spelled the potion into him, and he turned his face to nestle into Lupin's skin and let the potion take his abused senses away.

oooOOOooo

"I don't care, Albus. I said no, and no is what I mean. No, I will not bring him round. Now you shoo and be about your own business and let me be about mine ..."

Poppy's brisk voice faded from his consciousness once more.

oooOOOooo

Snape's eyes fluttered open and he took his time to focus on his surroundings. The sunlight was so weak, he wondered if was still dawn and he hadn't slept at all. His head was buried in the crook of Lupin's shoulder and he was about to move quietly away when he realised Lupin's arm encircled him and Lupin's other hand rested on Snape's arm that held Lupin's chest. Then he felt Lupin's hand squeeze his shoulder.

"Severus," Lupin whispered, his voice ragged and weak.

Snape's head snapped up to see Lupin, still pale, smiling weakly at him.

"Poppy said ... she said ..." Snape sat up as he looked around, confused. "What time is it?"

"The sun's just setting," said Lupin, his eyes searching Snape's face. He had slept the whole day! He had no idea Poppy had given him so much potion.

"I wanted to be here for you." Snape stroked Lupin's face and Lupin turned to kiss his hand.

"You _are_ here," smiled Lupin. "I couldn't ask for anything more than to wake with you by my side."

Snape felt the sorrow and sickness wash over him again. He had wanted time to collect his thoughts to find a way to tell Lupin ... a way that Lupin would understand ... that they had to part.

"Poppy thought you'd be awake by the time I came round. She said you were exhausted. I told her to let you sleep," said Lupin, watching Snape's face. "What's the matter, Severus?" he asked, undoubtedly sensing and smelling Snape's strong emotions. Snape kissed Lupin's lips gently.

"What's the matter?" Snape repeated, gently. "You could have died, that's what," he whispered as he closed his eyes against the memory of Lupin, bloody and broken, on their carpet.

"You saved me. Albus's Charm worked, and you saved me."

Snape nodded. "What happened? Do you remember?"

"I was in the library, in the Arcane Stacks – I lost track of time, I was so immersed in what I found. When I left, it was later than usual and I was rushing to get back to you." Lupin gulped. "I should have had my wits about me. Suddenly three werewolves had me cornered and went for me." Lupin squeezed Snape again. "They were on me with knives instantly. It was all I could do to grasp my belt and remember the incantation. Without that Charm and you there to care for me, I'd be dead now, I'm sure." He reached out to hold Snape close to him once more.

Even as Snape listened to Lupin's halting, breathless speech, it struck him forcefully how this was true – Dumbledore had worked the Charm that saved Lupin's life. Without that Charm, there was no way Lupin could have survived the attack. The dichotomy of Dumbledore's actions and motives hurt his head to think about.

It was at that moment that there was a rap at the door. Lupin released his hold and Snape moved away, still shaken, and Poppy came into the room, Levitating a tray of Potions and food before her.

"Good to see you awake now, Severus." She smiled briefly as she set down her tray and moved around to Lupin. "Up you get, Remus." She placed her arm around Lupin's shoulders and helped him to sit up. She cast over him, took his pulse and then measured out potions for him.

"Lovely healing work, Severus," she said as she worked. "Only one application of Dittany needed." Lupin swallowed the Blood Replenishing Potion and Internal Injury Potion and then Poppy plumped the pillows behind him. Snape was pretty sure he heard her say 'good boy' under her breath. As he grabbed the cover to pull it around himself, he realised he was in a hospital gown.

"Did you ... did you put this on me?" he asked Poppy, a flush rising up his neck, as he realised he had been completely oblivious to her dressing him.

"Of course I did." Poppy raised an eyebrow seeing his blush. "For heaven's sake, Severus. How often have I tended you?" She marched around to him and took his pulse also. "You slept much longer than the Potion I gave you. You were clearly desperate for sleep. Well, I'm not surprised after the shock of Remus's injuries and then having to go to that ... that monster!" she blustered.

Snape felt Lupin start next to him. This wasn't the way Snape had wanted to start the discussion with Lupin, even to tell him that the Fidelius was broken.

"How long will Remus have to take bed rest, Poppy?" asked Snape, quickly, keen to postpone the conversation as long as possible.

"Oh, I think he should stay at least a week. And we need to decide how much bed rest you need too, no matter what Albus says."

"Albus? Has he been?" Snape stomach roiled. Didn't he vaguely recall that Dumbledore had wanted him woken? Did Dumbledore want the job done so very quickly? Could he not at least wait until Lupin was fully recovered?

"He wanted to know how you are. He's been very anxious since I told him how sick you'd been." Poppy placed trays over each of them, with soup and bread and glasses of water.

"As am I," said Lupin, quietly, placing his hand over Snape's. Snape knew Lupin would be looking at him, wanting to know if he'd been injured by the Dark Lord. How could Snape ever tell him the greatest injury was yet to come and would happen at the hands of his father figure and confessor?

"I'm ... I'm fine," he said, turning to Lupin once more and holding his gaze.

_There's something you're not telling me,_ Lupin thought to him, his concern evident in his blue eyes.

_It will wait,_ Snape responded.

 

* * *


	98. Dissembling

It was a mark of how physically and mentally exhausted both men had been that, after they had eaten, they had both slept until dawn in each other's arms, oblivious to the world around them.

When Snape had awoken, he had had one moment of perfect contentment in Lupin's warm embrace before he remembered Dumbledore's callous demand. From that realisation onwards, a sickness of heart settled like a shroud over him, and he hurt as if Dumbledore had cast a Cutting Curse to his soul. All he wanted to do was stay where he was, wrapped up next to Lupin, even if it was just for the day.

Of course, he had not been permitted the indulgence of Sunday to themselves. As Poppy administered her tests and potions that morning, a house-elf delivered a scroll from Dumbledore asking to see Snape as soon as possible.

"I'm sure whatever it is, it can wait," said Poppy sternly. "You are unwell, Severus."

Poppy took the scroll from Snape's fingers and took his pulse. Snape was acutely aware that there was a time when he and Lupin would have found her fussing inordinately funny, or, at least, Lupin would have, and Snape would have enjoyed his husband's amusement. But now, he felt hollow, as if his soul itself ached and he simply could not find the humour in it.

Against Poppy's advice that he was still too unwell and Lupin's wishes that he stay to be tended, Snape had dressed and gone to see Dumbledore, not because he was following his orders, but because he did not want Dumbledore in the side ward with Lupin – he did not want him anywhere near Lupin until he, Snape, had decided how things would be handled.

He sat upright before Dumbledore, his expression unfathomable. He was not the man who had argued and begged in turn the day before, but a man on whom sentence had been passed and who had nowhere to turn. His answers to Dumbledore's enquiries about his health were monosyllabic and sullen and they fell into an uncomfortable silence.

Dumbledore regarded him, his blue eyes clear and sharp. Snape could help but note to himself how there was no twinkle in those eyes. He doubted he would ever see Dumbledore light-hearted again. All the years of Dumbledore's planning and scheming, and Snape had followed him loyally, his only mission to atone for what he had done. He had suffered Dumbledore's good humour and platitudes, but had had also learnt from his brilliance and his patience. With Dumbledore's guidance, he had begun to feel he could attain some worth, some measure of redemption.

Now, he realised that they had crossed the Rubicon from whence there would be no return for them. There would be no more mentor and penitent; no paternal guidance; no gentle remonstrance to Snape's fits of pique or sullen temperament. All of that was in the past.

Snape knew now - and he could never un-know the terrible truth - that in Dumbledore's scheme for the greater good, there was no room for Snape's happiness and it cut Snape deeply.

Not for him a simple life with Lupin and their child after the fall of the Dark Lord. Love had been denied him before, and now it would be denied him again. Snape himself had handed Dumbledore his liberty when he had vowed to do whatever was required to redeem himself. He had no choice but to give Dumbledore what he wanted, and Snape hated Dumbledore for it. Not the burning, soul-destroying hatred that had led him to the service of the Dark Lord, but the bitter, arid hatred of desperate hopelessness.

"It cannot wait forever, Severus."

"It can wait until Remus is well," said Snape quietly, but firmly. "Whilst Remus stays here to recuperate, there is simply no need to tell him this … this desire of yours," said Snape, his tone flat. "Why do you feel the need to hasten the destruction of my relationship with him?"

"I do not, Severus. Neither do I wish your resolve to weaken."

"I have no resolve for this. It is your resolve. It will never be mine."

Dumbledore acknowledged the comment with a nod.

"Nevertheless, you know there is no other way."

For one moment, Snape was almost moved to try to plead once more, but in his heart he knew it was pointless.

"I will do what you ask, but not until Remus is fully recovered and you must not interfere. You must leave it to me."

"I trust you, Severus."

 

oooOOOooo

"Can you tell me what's troubling you so?" asked Lupin, worry plain in his eyes, as he kissed Snape's shoulder as he sat on the bed on his return.

"Some of it," Snape sighed and closed his eyes. He wouldn't tell Lupin all of it – he wasn't even sure how he would manage a separation yet. He wasn't even sure he could! But, he would at least tell him about the Fidelius. With any luck, Lupin would believe that his own injuries and the breaking of the Fidelius triggered Snape's shock yesterday. It was a half-truth, but at least it was not a complete lie.

Snape told him the whole story from the moment the ring had resonated until he had returned with Bellatrix to the Dark Lord. He did not tell him about the Tracing Jinx or his conversation with Dumbledore on his return. Lupin listened in silence, letting Snape tell the story in his own way, occasionally squeezing his hand for reassurance.

"I'm so sorry, Remus," Snape said as he finished. "The flat is no longer safe. We cannot go back there."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. You saved me. You risked yourself to do it." Lupin pressed a kiss to Snape's face. Snape's stomach turned with the knowledge that there was worse to tell.

"I should have been aware before I Disapparated. I should have ..."

"No Severus!" Lupin interrupted. "You expect too much of yourself. We'll find somewhere else. Make a new home for ourselves." Lupin brought Snape down to lie against him. "As long as I'm with you, I don't care where we go. You are my home."

As much as he was home to Lupin, Lupin was home to him. Snape closed his eyes as he listened to Lupin's voice, so much stronger than it was the day before, wishing he could make the pain in his heart diminish.

"As soon as I'm better, I'll do the flat-hunting," said Lupin, stroking his fingers through Snape's hair.

"No!" Snape raised his head to meet Lupin's look of surprise. "You are a target. We know that definitely now. I will find a new flat, but when I do, you must hide there - out of harm's way!"

Then, for a mad moment, Snape thought if he could get Lupin to agree to hide – hide here in Hogwarts – the place the Dark Lord expected Snape to be – he could keep him safe. He could just _keep_ him. As quickly as the mad thought tried to take root, he remembered Dumbledore's interdiction against it and then Lupin himself sealed the fate of Snape's only way out.

Lupin sat up slowly and held Snape gently, but his tone was firm.

"I cannot stay shut away, Severus. I have to work – for a living as well as for the Order." Snape started to protest, but Lupin shook his head. "I can't hide. What kind of a man would that make me?" Lupin stroked his thumbs over Snape's cheekbones. "I know you want to protect me," he said gently. "And I understand. But we're in this together. Now rest."

 

oooOOOooo

The following week was a diary of unfolding misery for Snape.

Monday came all too soon, and Snape had to return to teaching. Poppy insisted he return after the evening meal to the ward so she could monitor him overnight. He suspected she and Lupin had connived to keep them together and he was grateful for her intervention even though he could feel Dumbledore's disapproval of the delay.

On Tuesday, when Snape returned to the side ward after teaching, Lupin was sitting up in bed.

"Severus!" Lupin smiled broadly. "Albus brought us a list of flats. Have you seen them yet?"

 _Meddlesome old man!_ Snape thought furiously, but was more angry with himself that if he did not pull together a plan soon, Dumbledore would take the initiative and this was his way of letting Snape know it. Covering his upset, he sat with Lupin and they went through the list together but Snape only paid attention to the flats that Lupin liked. After all, Snape was not destined to share whichever one was chosen.

On Wednesday, Snape gave orders to Gringotts to pay the deposit and three months' rent in advance on the flat of Lupin's choice, and instructed Tippy to move all of Lupin's belongings there. She did so without demur. It was only later that evening as Snape collected his students' papers from his office, intending to mark them as he sat with Lupin, that Tippy appeared to request which of Professor Snape's belongings should also be moved to the new flat.

It stopped Snape in his tracks. To dissemble, he should give the outward appearance of normality – there should be some of his belongings at the new flat. But then, when it was time for Snape to leave, Lupin would have all those reminders of him. That didn't strike Snape as fair either.

He told Tippy he would call her when he had decided. As she popped away, he sat heavily in his chair.

His previously pain-addled thoughts crystallised. He knew what needed to be done. He would tell Lupin that Dumbledore was sending him undercover to the Dark Lord – that he would be required constantly when not at school. This gave him the excuse to request Tonks's assistance at full moon. If he stayed away on espionage every bit as essential as that which Lupin used to undertake with the werewolf packs, how could Lupin not understand? He would come to rely on the woman and, like Angharad, she would take a place in his life – a second mate. It would be painless.

Painless for Lupin, anyway.

Lupin need never know that Snape was leaving him. In fact, Snape was sure Lupin wouldn't _allow_ Snape to leave him. Dumbledore would need to understand Lupin's nature if he wanted both of his spies alive. And if Lupin came to realise at some time in the future that Snape was indeed gone, he would have his second mate to dull any pain, and no mementoes in the flat to jar any memories.

Snape let his head fall into his hands and a sudden sob racked his chest as he thought further.

Of course, when Snape killed Dumbledore, Lupin would stop loving him anyway. That was assured now. If Snape was not there to tell him the truth when the Fidelius broke, Lupin could never know the truth. He would hate him, and Dumbledore's wish for the destruction of their relationship would be realised.

He moaned in misery, but it was as good a plan as he could think of. It would keep Lupin a safe distance from Snape, and Lupin's safety seemed to be the only goal he was allowed.

It was a full hour before he mastered himself enough to return to Lupin, and he held throughout the long and sleepless night.

On Friday, Snape told Dumbledore of his plan at lunchtime. His voice had been monotonous as he had relayed the plan. Not once did he look into Dumbledore's eyes.

"Severus, you are doing the right thing."

"Not for me," said Snape. "Tomorrow, we will tell Remus this lie. Remember when you see his pain whose fault it is."

Snape had swept out of the room and went straight to see Lupin.

"Severus! How wonderful. Are you joining me for lunch?" exclaimed Lupin, his smile lighting up his face.

It was such a beautiful smile.

 

oooOOOooo

Poppy had finally given permission for Lupin to leave the side ward. Between them they had agreed that Lupin would spend the night in Snape's quarters before being discharged the next day.

"It's like old times, Severus!" said Lupin, as he entered Snape's drawing room. "I've missed these rooms."

"I've missed you being here," said Snape, softly, almost tremulous in anticipation of the night together.

Lupin pulled Snape into an embrace and kissed him lightly.

"You're still unwell. I should be looking after you now."

"I am fine, Remus. I'm still worried for you, that's all."

"But you can see I'm fine now. I've had the very best care, after all." Lupin sat and pulled Snape to sit next to him. "And we'll get moved in tomorrow and I promise you I'll be more careful ..."

"Never think you are to blame, Remus," Snape interrupted forcefully then sagged against the settee as Lupin pressed him back carefully.

"Severus," Lupin said, calmly, caressing Snape's shoulder. "You mustn't worry like this about me. Not when you take so many risks yourself."

Snape was about to protest, but Lupin laid a gentle finger on Snape's lips and then kissed him softly and so very sweetly. The sweetness of it took Snape's breath away. He realised then he didn't want to spend this night with his heartbreak. He wanted to take every bit of love and affection that Lupin could give him, and return it one hundred-fold while he still could.

His own lips responded just as gently, gradually releasing the brittle tension in his body, allowing the sweetness of the kiss and the warm caresses to ease away the bitterness of his sacrifice to come and wash over him with tenderness.

The moan that escaped his throat as Lupin's fingers unwound his cravat, undid his collar, and stroked his neck was almost one of pain as the touch seemed to drill into his soul and he knew then how he wanted this night to be. He reached out and guided Lupin's fingers to the bite on his neck, never disengaging from the kiss as Lupin's fingers deftly opened Snape's robe and shirt and his soft lips made their way across Snape's throat, exciting throaty murmurs from Lupin as he understood the request that had been made.

Lupin's lips found the bite, and then his tongue and teeth. Snape's head fell back as the intensity of the bite drove everything from his mind and body and he slowly succumbed to bliss.

 

oooOOOooo

It was the perfection of satisfaction that he usually felt when they made love, but it was more than that. He tried to remember every single feeling and touch, trying to imprint it on his mind for when he would have it no more.

The dawn was approaching and Snape watched through the window Lupin had constructed for him, even as Lupin himself slept soundly, their limbs tangled together from a night of tender passion.

Snape refused to sleep. He would not waste one single second, even if it was just to watch Lupin sleep. He turned his face slightly just so he could place a single, soft kiss on Lupin's cheek, only to gasp violently as the Dark Mark burned through his flesh.

Tears of pain sprang to his eyes and he winced, but he would not give in. He turned fully so his body trapped his own arm and moved so he was once again in Lupin's arms. The sleeping man responded, pulling Snape closer and humming contentedly.

The pain flared through him, just as it had that one other time when he had ignored the summons on the night of the Third Task. He would not respond. This was his time with Lupin. He could concoct a lie for the Dark Lord easily. He would probably be tortured anyway, whether he arrived on time or not. Let the Dark Lord torture him. It could be no worse than what Dumbledore had planned for him.

 

oooOOOooo

The Dark Lord stalked around Snape's prone, twitching body, still angry despite subjecting Snape to the Torture Curse in repeated violent bouts.

Of course, Snape had been right that the Dark Lord would curse him for his tardiness. Without even hearing his excuse, the curse had torn into Snape as soon as he knelt before the Dark Lord. Had he been able to think past the agony that fired through his nerves, he would not have been surprised: he had not left Lupin until 11 that morning. Only a fool would keep the Dark Lord waiting for nearly five hours.

The Dark Lord paced back and forth and, although Snape could feel the Dark Lord's magic reverberating powerfully, straining to be unleashed, the Dark Lord was clearly containing a further torture spree.

"You know you deserve this punishment, don't you, Severus?" the Dark Lord hissed as he glowered at Snape.

"My Lord, yes," Snape gasped, his hands clawing at the floor for purchase to try to kneel once more.

"Get up! Get up! Account for yourself!" the Dark Lord hissed.

Trembling from head to toe, Snape pushed himself to a kneeling position, although he was barely able to hold his head up.

In his Occluded mind, he remembered the brush of Lupin's fingers over his face and neck and the memory comforted him. He remembered the extraordinary beauty of Lupin's smile as they had bathed together that morning and then that Lupin had dressed him carefully in his Death Eater robes in an act that spoke of adoration. Snape would not have missed those times just save himself some pain – he would not have missed those times for the world itself. It galvanised him to raise his face.

"I was with the old man," he said weakly, his breath rasping. "And some members of the Order ... I thought ... I was to stay ... if I erred, my Lord ..." He wondered if the Dark Lord remembered his instruction to Snape to stay at Order meetings, even if he was summoned. He held his knees to steady himself.

The Dark Lord swooped about him, threateningly, but he did not deny that he had given such orders.

"What news do you have for me then, that you kept your master waiting?"

"I am still trusted, my Lord. They were making arrangements for a new safe house -"

"- under the Fidelius?"

"Yes, my Lord." Snape hoped the Dark Lord would not savage his mind. There could be no retrieval of information under the Fidelius Charm.

"You have been taken into the Charm?"

"I have, my Lord," Snape lied, his voice becoming stronger. "Had I left at that point ..."

"Yes, yes, I understand. It is good the old man still trusts you." The Dark Lord cast over Snape, and Snape knew he was checking the Tracing Jinx. He would find nothing other than Hogwarts there. The Dark Lord ran his wand across the tips of his fingers. Snape knew the Dark Lord _wanted_ to punish him again: why hadn't he?

The hem of the Dark Lord's robe whispered along the floor as he turned from Snape and went to the desk, then returned and pushed a phial into Snape's hands.

"Drink it!" he hissed. "But never expect this mercy again."

Post-Cruciatus Potion! With shaking hands, Snape unstoppered the phial and drank greedily, wondering what on earth had induced the Dark Lord to offer to cure Snape's post-Cruciatus tremens. He breathed in deeply as he felt the potion begin to work slowly but surely.

"When you are ready, come to me!" the Dark Lord snapped and left the study.

Snape could scarcely credit it. The Dark Lord did not hand out potions. He expected his acolytes to accept his correction. Merlin knew, punishments for other Death Eaters assisting each other were always severe - if caught.

Eventually the potion had its full effect and, only slightly tremulous, Snape appeared before the Dark Lord in the Hall.

 

oooOOOooo

It was dusk. Dumbledore's office was bathed in the red remnants of sunset.

Snape and Lupin sat as Dumbledore paced behind them. Lupin sat in his chair so he could look at Snape as he told them of the meeting.

"He wanted me to Legilimise the children. He said they would have information they probably didn't even know they had – things their parents had said – that kind of thing."

Lupin held his hand, and Snape was grateful for it.

"Why didn't Voldemort do it himself?" asked Dumbledore.

"He had ... ah ..." Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "He had tried with the oldest child. In the time I wasn't there, he drove the boy into madness." Snape swallowed hard, knowing Dumbledore was blaming him for ignoring the summons. "The Dark Lord sometimes enjoys the manipulation of memories more than physical pain itself. He didn't exercise restraint."

"I see," said Dumbledore. "I trust you were there in time to save the second child."

Snape felt his cheeks flush deeply, hearing in his mind the cutting comments Dumbledore had made to him the previous week: _your existence is so wrapped up in Remus._ He knew Dumbledore would use this as proof of Snape's dereliction of his duty.

"Yes. I was."

"Did you hurt her?"

"Albus!" interceded Lupin.

"It's all right, Remus. She fought me, just as Potter fought me. She panicked. It hurt her, but not like the Dark Lord would have hurt her. I got the information he wanted, but I did not give it all to him."

With that, Snape told Dumbledore about the children of Elvira and Nicholas Page. The parents had been Muggle-born both. The father was an Unspeakable and their mother worked for the Minister's Liaison Office. They had died trying to protect their children. Greyback and Bellatrix had been punished for their failure to bring in the whole family alive. The Dark Lord had wanted to use the children to force secrets from the parents. With no parents to manipulate, he hoped the parents had discussed their work at home. From what Snape had found out, it appeared they did. Or, at least, the mother did. Eventually, Snape managed to discern from the scraps of memory he plucked from the child the mealtimes when the mother told the father so much information that detailed itineraries for Scrimgeour could be salvaged from those fragments. Snape had given the Dark Lord enough to be satisfied, but tried to expurgate critical links between them.

"Well done, Severus," said Dumbledore nodding, and then stroked his beard. "What of the child?"

"Children, Albus. There were another two. I told the Dark Lord that there may be more information to get, but if they were injured, physically or mentally, it would become more difficult. He agreed not to let the others have them."

"Severus. If this is successful, you understand that Voldemort will attempt this with other children ..."

"He has already said so, not just children but adults too. He has been interested in using my Legilimency ever since I fought off his _Imperius_ curse."

"It is better that it is you than him," said Lupin.

"Clearly so," added Dumbledore. "There is a chance the prisoners may survive if it's Severus."

"And we must find ways to look their rescue too," added Lupin.

"If Severus is there, of course," said Dumbledore.

"It goes without saying," agreed Lupin intently.

Snape saw the trap just as it sprang shut.

"Severus, you should be deployed at Malfoy Manor whenever you are not called upon here at Hogwarts. That is the only way we can ensure you are there to protect these prisoners."

Snape's jaw dropped. It had been so smooth. How could he complain? It was his very own plan. He turned to Lupin, unable to speak, hoping Lupin would refuse, but knowing he would acquiesce to Dumbledore's wishes. He saw refusal in Lupin's eyes, then he saw shame for the thought.

"All the time?" asked Lupin, his voice small.

"Just as you were undercover with the packs or when you were in Egypt," said Dumbledore, "so no suspicions are aroused. Think of the lives that may be saved, Remus."

_Oh so smoothly done._

 

oooOOOooo

"We could use the mirrors?" said Lupin, still cradling Snape's face as they lay facing each other in bed in Snape's quarters, still breathless from passionate, desperate sex.

Of course they could, but then he would be going against Dumbledore's demand.

"I might be with the Dark Lord at any time," replied Snape quietly, guilt warring with hopelessness. If he could just tell Lupin the truth, Lupin wouldn't let him go. Lupin would demand a retraction from Dumbledore – Snape knew he would. He pressed his own body next to Lupin's, savouring the feel of their skins touching. The time was drawing closer. It felt as inexorable as death.

"Are you telling me everything, Severus?" asked Lupin. Snape knew Lupin was sensing his guilt.

"Do you want more detail of what I did to the children?" rejoined Snape, knowing it was an unfair deflection.

"No. Severus, I'm sorry. I didn't think." He kissed Snape's face again.

"I don't want us to part," murmured Snape, wondering if even that admission would compromise his Vow, and therefore Lupin's soul.

"I'm sure Albus doesn't mean us to stay apart completely. He wouldn't do that to us. There has to be a way," said Lupin resolutely, and then kissed Snape's forehead as Snape clutched Lupin's body. "There has to be."

 

oooOOOooo

All that had been gained was a few extra days at the weekend. Snape and Lupin had filled them with passion and affection. Snape knew they were their last days, although Lupin did not. He still believed that Snape's vigorous passion had been spurred on by the attack and his recovery – not that he complained. Lupin told Snape at every opportunity how entranced he was by Snape's ardour and returned it in kind.

Monday came, and Lupin went to see Dumbledore as Snape taught, but when he returned to Snape's quarters, he told Snape that Dumbledore had just asked Lupin to be patient and to trust him that everything would work out.

Lupin had taken that meeting at face value, and in turn reassured Snape, holding him close as they murmured their good-byes to each other with tender kisses before Snape saw Lupin to Dumbledore's office as the school sat down for dinner.

"As soon as it's safe, Severus, we'll be at the flat together – you'll see," said Lupin, with the smile of a man with complete belief.

It took all Snape's strength to smile tightly back and not beg Lupin not to leave. He held Lupin's hand and gave it one final squeeze then left before his tears overwhelmed him, as he heard Lupin call "The Leaky Cauldron" and the fire flare, and he closed the office door, knowing Lupin was gone.

He had thought he would weep once he returned to his quarters, but he did not. He moved around his rooms like an automaton, finally unpacking those cases from their previous home, knowing his possessions would only find their home here or at Spinner's End. His clothes, his toiletries, his books, his papers, the letters from Alphard – it was all here. Tippy had been thorough – nothing of Lupin's remained here.

Just as listlessly, he undressed and lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling, inhaling Lupin's scent that still remained on the bed clothes. Once. Twice. Three times until it filled his senses.

This bed that had seen such passion these few days, now cold under his back.

This body that had been filled, now empty and alone.

Then a cold tear traced down the side of his face. It didn't matter if it was one tear or a thousand: his despair was complete.

 

oooOOOooo

The very next day, Dumbledore began to set things in motion, closing off avenues of meeting for them. A new Fidelius was worked on the flat as Snape taught during the day. Dumbledore was the Secret Keeper. Snape had even told Lupin this was the best idea as then Snape could not be compelled to give up the Secret, even though Snape knew Dumbledore would not divulge it to him. Only after his death would the Secret repose in Lupin himself.

Just two days ago, Snape had known the address of the flat when he had made arrangements for the payments. Now, he could call it to mind no more.

Snape and Lupin had thought they would see each other at the next Order meeting at least, but Dumbledore then told Snape he should no longer attend Order meetings.

"It will not be long now, Severus," said Dumbledore, "before you can no longer attend in any event."

Snape glared fiercely at Dumbledore, unable to believe he could be oblivious to the hurt he was causing. The reminder that once Snape killed Dumbledore, his reputation, any shred of trust or respect he had had would be lost, on top of everything else Dumbledore expected him to bear, was just too grim.

It was not that he cared about the meetings themselves, but they had at least connected him to the Light and to those who worked for it. It was not as if he would be missed: he was neither liked nor trusted by most of the Order. Why should his absence make any difference to anyone except to Lupin?

It shouldn't make any difference, but to Snape, he felt as if his humanity was being stripped away, piece by piece.

 

oooOOOooo

"So, why weren't you at the Order meeting?" asked Tonks, her gaze mistrustful, as she looked around the bar at The Hog's Head where Snape had asked to meet her.

"Dumbledore has other tasks for me," replied Snape. Tonks opened her mouth to ask, but Snape repressed the pending question. "No, you may not ask what. I am here to discuss Lupin."

The effect on Tonks was electric.

"What is it? He was out of sorts at the meeting. He even had words with Dumbledore. Do you know why? What's happened?" she said rapidly.

"As far as I know, nothing has happened." The lie was easy, but the knowledge that Lupin wore his distress on his sleeve was not.

"The business Dumbledore has for me means I will not be able to tend to Lupin as I used to," he said, his tone matter-of-fact. He saw the realisation of what this meant light up Tonks's eyes. He tried to control his voice so it would not betray his own upset. He turned his attention to his apothecary bag and produced two large glass jars.

"This is a balm I've been working on specifically for transformation injuries. It is applied directly after any tears or breaks ..." His voice almost gave out, but he coughed and glared at a customer nearby who was smoking a pipe to cover the moment. "As I was saying, any tears or breaks are repaired first. Your Auror medical training will suffice for that. This salve will speed up recovery and prevent cursed scarring."

She received the jars as if they were solid gold, her eyes sparkling with happiness. She knew what being together at the full moon meant. At that moment, Snape wished he could tell her that he understood her grief – the grief that would soon be his.

"Do you have the address to Lupin's flat?" he asked quietly, steadying himself for the answer.

"Yes, Dumbledore gave it to me after the meeting."

 _Foul, foul, foul old man!_ Snape nodded abruptly and inhaled deeply to calm himself. He doubted Tonks noticed – she was too happy holding the jars as if they were the key to her happiness. Perhaps they would be.

"I will continue to supply his Wolfsbane. It has gone way beyond the standard preparation now. It would only set him back to have the standard Damocles brew now ..."

"You won't see him at all? Not even for research?" Tonks interrupted, confused, her gaze now sharpening as she looked at him. "Why are you doing this for Remus? You hate him."

"Dumbledore has ordered it." It answered one question, but not the one Tonks thought. She nodded and her acceptance of his answer made him burn with anger. "I will be undercover for a long time." Snape had to draw on all his considerable restraint not to give in to hex her and Disapparate to try to find Lupin. "Now, as I was saying ... I will send the Wolfsbane by a Hogwarts house-elf called Tippy. She is very trustworthy. Dumbledore appointed her for the purpose."

Tonks nodded. Snape could see a tinge of colour returning to her cheeks. There was no doubt that she was planning to make herself indispensible to Lupin, and that she hoped that it would one day lead to love.

He continued instructing her and she listened avidly. She had always been an apt pupil, even if inclined to misbehave. She had loved David once and she would know how to care for Lupin – she should care for him because Snape himself no longer could.

Snape told himself this over and over in his mind now he was so thoroughly convinced that what he did, he did to save Lupin's soul. After all - he had sworn – he would do anything to keep Lupin safe. Even this.

* * *

 


	99. Sectumsempra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes from Chapter 24 of HBP are in bold and © J.K. Rowling

"What reason do I give the Dark Lord for not attending Order meetings? He will know I have not left Hogwarts. Did you consider that when you were ensuring that Remus and I be kept apart?"

"I did. We will have our meetings here. Voldemort will know no differently. And you can patrol again."

"How delightful for me," said Snape, acidly.

"And you can socialise with the rest of the staff."

"I don't wish to socialise. I'm supposed to be with the Dark Lord, remember!"

"It's important, Severus. You will need to work with the staff next year."

Snape stood suddenly. He hated the references to Dumbledore's death, to the end of everything he held dear – to any thought by members of the staff and of the Order – by one particular member especially - that he walked the Light path, even if he walked in the shadows.

"This is foolishness," he snapped. "It's not as if you will tell any of the staff your plans ..."

"You know that cannot be."

"Then why do you talk such nonsense! I will be the enemy from that moment on. There's no need for me to make things any harder than they already are."

"Try to be brave, Severus ..."

Snape drew in a sharp breath as his fists whitened in anger.

"You surely aren't calling me a coward, Dumbledore! After everything you have taken from me, you can't possibly call me a coward!" Snape hissed.

"Dear boy, no. I would never call you such a thing. I am merely trying to encourage you."

oooOOOooo

_Encourage me. Give me courage._ Snape sat in his office. He had finished his marking and now he sat, his face resting against his steepled fingers.

Of all the things Dumbledore did and said, nothing could encourage him now. Lupin had given him courage. The thought of a life together had given him (and he believed Lupin too) the greatest incentive to persevere through everything that was required of them.

Snape took the mirror from his robe pocket. He had charmed it to be silent and unseeing. He cast a spell to it. Lupin had called it several times already. It hurt Snape not to answer – just to see and hear Lupin. Why did Dumbledore ask this of him? They could be careful. Didn't Dumbledore see: the more he worried about Lupin's absence from his life, the less effective he would be?

Didn't Dumbledore understand what it was to love?

oooOOOooo

Snape took the stairs up from the dungeon two at a time and strode to the study where the Dark Lord held court.

"Ah, Severus. You look ... disturbed," said the Dark Lord, with a knowing smile.

"I went to find the Paige children, my Lord, to continue where I left off – but they are gone."

"I tired of them, Severus. I gave them to the twins."

Snape blinked. _Tired of them?_ They had been under Silencing Charms in the dungeon – how could they have annoyed the Dark Lord? He bit down on the question, and quashed his own guilt. He had failed.

"Very good, my Lord," he said, his face as blank as he could make it.

"You are not happy. They were just Mudbloods. I hope you still don't have a soft spot for Mudbloods – or was it just that one?"

"There may have been more information or perhaps ... some propaganda value in keeping them alive," he invented – he did not want his loyalties questioned at this stage. "Re-training them, perhaps, as an example of your wisdom."

The Dark Lord cocked his head to one side.

"You are always so level-headed, Severus."

Snape bowed.

"Everything in your service, my Lord."

"Yes, we will need to consider how to deal with children effectively. Adults can be so very tiresome about children."

"It is something I struggle with every day, my Lord."

The Dark Lord laughed. It was an ugly thing to hear.

oooOOOooo

Instead of returning to Lupin at nights, as he had just last month, now he returned to the Dark Lord, whether summoned or not. The Dark Lord praised his commitment; Bellatrix scowled and spat that he wasn't to be trusted.

He did not stay overnight, but the few hours he had there kept in constant contact with the Dark Lord's plans and he could see who the latest abductees were. Where he was asked to retrieve information from them by Legilimency, he would do so knowing it was better that he performed the spell than the Dark Lord. Most victims yielded their secrets easily enough, but Snape was selective in how much he divulged.

Snape also quickly discovered that, if he was careful, he could slip into the victim's mind and hypnotise them so they would pass into unconsciousness and feel no more pain. It was a variation of the mind carving he had performed so viciously on Lupin all those years ago, now done carefully, precisely and without a trace. With each new victim that was presented to Snape, he became more proficient at seeming to inflict pain of such severity that the victim would collapse, insensible.

The Dark Lord was so proud.

Snape passed on all the information, without censorship, to Dumbledore who, in turn, passed the names of the captives or the targets on to Shacklebolt. Targets were often saved and relocated, but captives were only rescued if they were not held in Malfoy Manor. Snape questioned this often, each death seeming to add to his burden of guilt.

"The day the Ministry breaks the wards of Malfoy Manor is the day when Voldemort will know you are not his man," Dumbledore would say.

"But, sometimes there are whole families ..." Snape would protest.

"All the more reason why you need to be around to get the information we need to protect them before they fall into Death Eater clutches."

Then Dumbledore and he would discuss information to be given to the Dark Lord and the manner in which it would be disclosed. Snape wondered unhappily if Dumbledore, too, was proud.

ooOOOooo

"How does he appear? Does he look well?" Snape pressed Tippy when she returned from delivering the first flask of Wolfsbane.

"Master Lupin asks Tippy the same questions!" Tippy declared, her expression knowing. "Master Lupin is very worried for Professor Snape and asks that Tippy checks Professor Snape's mirror is working."

"Yes, the mirror's working," muttered Snape. "Tomorrow – tomorrow you will tell Master Lupin that the mirror works but I am away and cannot answer. Tell him ... tell him it is dangerous."

"But you are not always away, Professor Snape," said Tippy, a frown forming on her face.

Snape knelt down in front of Tippy so he looked at her directly. He couldn't risk her passing on information inadvertently to Lupin that would make him question Snape's absence as anything other than needing to fulfil his missions for Dumbledore. But she was bound to both of them. How could he override any orders Lupin might give her about him?

"Do you remember how badly injured Master Lupin was?" Snape asked softly. Tippy nodded, her ears flattening. "And you remember that we had to clear out of the flat because its protective charm was broken?" Another nod. "Those people watch me all the time, Tippy. I can't lead them to Master Lupin. I have to remain away until it's safe. You must help me, Tippy. Promise me you will not tell Master Lupin when I am not on my missions. Help me to keep Master Lupin safe."

The house-elf regarded Snape, her eyes large and sad. "But Master Lupin is missing Professor Snape," the elf whispered. "And Professor Snape is sad."

"Yes, Tippy, but I must have your promise – so we can keep him safe together."

The elf blinked and her long fingers worked in the hem of her tunic. Eventually, she spoke.

"Tippy promises, Professor Snape."

oooOOOooo

Certain people seemed to have a very self-satisfied air that day.

Slughorn had come to see Snape quite early to tell him that he had acquired – of all things – Acromantula venom. Snape couldn't deny that his fingers itched to get hold of some. He listened as Slughorn told him of the giant spider's funeral. Then he excitedly told him how Hagrid had given him a whole skein of Unicorn tail hair. Snape could just imagine Slughorn inveigling his way into Hagrid's cabin to avail himself of all the rare things Hagrid stored there.

But what struck Snape as odd as Slughorn bragged breathlessly was that Slughorn didn't explain how he had managed to learn of Hagrid's pet monster's death, or why Hagrid had invited Slughorn to its funeral at all. It was just too curious.

Then Slughorn had regaled Snape with Potter's latest triumph in the Potions class the day before when most of his year were taking their Apparition tests. Snape couldn't help but wonder if these were connected. But then, Slughorn mentioned something that sent the wheels of Snape's mind spinning.

"Perfect Elixir to Induce Euphoria, it was. Just the right shade of sunshine-yellow. And ... do you know what he had added?" Slughorn chortled. "Just like his mother – a complete natural! He added a sprig of peppermint! What a stroke of genius!"

This was too much of a coincidence for Snape. His very own improvement. Where had this new-found prowess of Potter's come from? He had been a complete dunderhead in Snape's class. Snape did not believe for one minute that Potter could have become such an intuitive brewer just because Snape no longer taught him. If only he could ask Lupin to find out.

At lunch, Dumbledore was particularly spritely, more so than Snape had seen for some time.

"We are moving forward, Severus. A giant leap."

"I don't suppose you can tell me ..."

"Unfortunately, no. But, if I am granted time, we may yet see the light at the end of the tunnel."

Snape felt a small glimmer of hope. Perhaps, just perhaps, his estrangement from Lupin would be short.

oooOOOooo

He was sitting at his desk, trying to find the impetus to answer Alphard's latest letters that were full his latest test results and snippets about Angharad's pregnancy. Snape liked Alphard. He liked Angharad. He respected Idris. But he was consumed with jealousy every time he tried to read Alphard's notes. He pressed his fingertips to his forehead, willing himself to disregard his own personal feelings and just concentrate on the data Alphard had provided. His efforts were interrupted by a timid knock at his office door.

Snape couldn't deny he was surprised to find Katie Bell outside. He recovered quickly, and asked her to enter.

"Professor Snape, sir," she said. "I just wanted to say ... that is ... um. Thank you. Professor McGonagall told me that you cast the counter-curse that stopped the curse spreading. So ... um .."

It was painful really letting the girl stumble over her words, but he was so surprised to find a Gryffindor in his office voluntarily, he tried not to scowl as she bit out her hesitant thanks.

" ... yes, so, thank you for your speedy action. Sir."

Snape gave a barely perceptible nod.

"Any of this school's staff would have done the same, Miss Bell," he said. _If they were capable,_ he added to himself and saw in her eyes the same thought. "Run along."

She looked desperately grateful for the quick dismissal and almost broke into a run, but restrained herself. Snape thought how funny Lupin would have found it. He shut his office door, miserable once more.

Then he heard the soft pop of Apparition as Tippy appeared and passed the empty flask to him. He took it, his fingers folding around it almost as if he might feel where Lupin's hand had been before. Then he noticed the parchment rolled around it.

He breathed in sharply when he saw the parchment was blank. He cast the charm he had not used since Alphard had been taken prisoner last winter.

_My own love,_

_It is the night before the full moon and I miss you so. I wish I could speak to you and see your face so you could tell me you are well. Tippy brings the Potion and tells me you are well but it's not the same as seeing you myself._

_I worry for you all the time, putting yourself in danger every day. Does it really need to be every day? I know Albus said, but even so._

_I hope sending this with Tippy is safe. I know an owl might be difficult. If you could just call me on the mirror so I know you are well. Or write a note back with the next flask, perhaps._

_I can't believe I won't see you tomorrow. We have only once been completely apart. Dora has said she will stay, so you will be safe, my love. I can't believe she said yes after everything that happened before. We must be grateful. Without her, we would sicken terribly. Please don't worry. I know how you fret about her but it is you I will be thinking of._

_But I miss you so. When we were together, the moon became special for me as it had never been before. I don't want to be without you. I am selfish. I'm sorry. Please forgive me if I've made you feel guilty. I have no right to do that when you are risking yourself all the time._

_Know that I love you and miss you, my very own._

It pulled at Snape's heart to read it: Lupin's confusion was evident _._ What could he say in response? Should he respond?

How could he not?

It would be as if Lupin were in Egypt. Letters surely couldn't condemn Lupin's soul. Dumbledore had not demanded he never speak to Lupin again, Snape reasoned. And if he could comfort Lupin, then he himself would be comforted ... at least to a degree.

He drew a sheet of blank parchment towards himself, wishing he had the words to tell Lupin how his whole body and soul ached for him, how he wanted to curl up into Lupin's embrace and just listen to his words of love, and that nothing but Lupin made him happy. But he could not find the words for his deep feelings. Nothing seemed to do his emotions justice, but the stark and bare truth that he wrapped around the last flask of that moon.

_Beloved, I love you more than life itself._

oooOOOooo

Snape had watched the progress of the moon since the day Lupin had left. He patrolled most nights as sleep eluded him. As the moon reached its apex, he timed his patrol to be in the open air courtyard so he could see Lupin's mistress in all her glory. This is how he watched it wane, and then watched it wax until it waxed full.

He had tended to Dumbledore's cursed injury the night before and arranged that the patrol be handled by another the following night. Dumbledore did not question him this time. His acknowledging nod was brief, and even sympathetic, but Snape did not care for Dumbledore's sympathy.

This evening, after dinner in the hall, he shut himself away in his rooms.

He wondered what Lupin was thinking this very moment. Did he miss Snape? Did he yearn for Snape's body the way Snape yearned for Lupin's in that special time before moonrise? Or was he chatting to Tonks as she bared her neck for him to mark her.

Snape moaned softly as he watched the sky – it was a physical ache, made flesh by the permanence of absence to come. Snape sank to the floor at the foot of his bed and hugged his legs, leaning his chin on his knees, and watched moonrise from the window Lupin had made.

Snape felt the tug in his stomach, and then nothing more. To him, it was worse than the pain of separation that there should have been. It confirmed Lupin was with Tonks – just as Snape had instructed her.

His own mind could supply the worst of scenarios – that she had replaced him completely – even before the moon - even though his own rationality told him that, even for Tonks, it would be too soon, even though he had received Lupin's written declaration of love. Sooner or later, a physical man like Lupin would sicken of waiting for Snape: he was sure of it. All the scenarios flew through his mind: Lupin taking her in the manner of the wolf, her curling up with the wolf, tending and bathing Lupin gently in the morning – all of those times Snape loved and wanted to be his own. All of those times Snape had been made to sacrifice for his vow or lose Lupin's soul.

_What have I done?_

Tears stung his eyes, but he didn't try to choke them back. Why bother? There was no-one to see or hear. He was - after all - quite alone.

oooOOOooo

_My own love,_

The handwriting was shaky. Snape wondered how soon after Lupin had transformed he had written this. He had not heard Tippy deliver it, and yet the sun was only now rising. His hands trembled slightly as he held the letter.

_You thought of me enough to give the Salves to Dora. Thank you for thinking of me. I think of you constantly. I wish you could be here with me now. Last night, I pictured you holding me as I transformed. This morning, I remembered how you gather me into your embrace for us to rest together after I revert – how you can love the monster as well as the man. My love, I so long for your loving touch of the waning moon ..._

Snape thought just that sentence would break him. From all of the long letter that continued to express Lupin's yearning for him, it was that sentence to which he responded.

_Beloved,_

_Never think that I do not long for you every minute of every day._

oooOOOooo

The waning of the moon was just as hard to bear, not having Lupin to care for – it had always meant so very much to Snape. But Lupin had thought of him enough to write. It wasn't the same as bathing him, or loving him or even just taking breakfast together and talking. (Oh, he just wanted to talk to Lupin and see his wonderful smile.) But it was something.

And now that the Dark Lord expected more involvement from Snape in the torture of his victims (or as much of a replica of torture as Snape could make it), the absence of tenderness and kind words to counterbalance the cruelty was becoming harder to bear by the day.

He waited now on the letters that would come with Tippy every couple of days, with loving words and snippets of news. He read them greedily on receipt, and over and over again. He berated himself that his letters in return were always so brief. They couldn't possibly give Lupin the comfort that Lupin's long letters gave him. He wished he had a poet's soul so he could infuse a letter with all the love he felt, but even in this he felt a failure.

Sleep was harder without Lupin to soothe Snape's nightmares. Snape didn't want to take Dreamless Sleep too often, but he would take a Calming Draught after his patrol so at least his body could get some rest, although his mind never seemed to stop. When his thoughts became too dark and terrifying, he would read one of Lupin's letters. He didn't need to – he knew them word for word, but he liked to hold the tangible proof that he had not slipped from Lupin's mind.

It had only been a month. It was still early enough to tell himself it was just like when Lupin was in Egypt. He'd missed a full moon then too, when Barty Crouch had prevented his departure. He knew it wasn't the same, but he held on to Dumbledore's throwaway comment like a life-line that they might just see the light at the end of the tunnel .

oooOOOooo

This May afternoon, as he separated Gryffindor and Ravenclaw fifth formers indulging in a Muggle duel over an unpleasant Quidditch chant about the Ravenclaw seeker with a well-aimed Shield Charm, his charm on the door of the Slytherin common room activated once more. Malfoy was on the move again and Snape had his hands full. As quickly as he could, he admonished the culprits for their lack of Wizarding pride in duelling with fists and set their detentions and saw them on their separate ways. Then he made his way along the corridors teeming with students to search for Malfoy.

As Snape reached the sixth floor, **a deafening scream** pierced the humdrum hubbub **.**

**'MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!'**

Moaning Myrtle swooped towards him, as she whimpered, "It was Harry. He cut open that nice blond boy with a cutting curse!" and then turned to lead him, and he ran after her.

Snape couldn't credit what he was hearing but his anger was immediate as he threw the door open to find Potter rooted to the spot and Malfoy bleeding profusely on the floor. How had the boy discovered the curse of Snape's own creation? He pushed that question out of his mind. Malfoy's wounds were deep – the curse had been cast with concentrated intention, of that there could be no doubt.

**Pushing** Potter **roughly aside, he knelt over Malfoy, drew his wand and traced it over the deep wounds** as he intoned the counter-curse and t **he flow of blood ease** d **; Snape wiped the residue from Malfoy's face and repeated his spell** until **the wounds knitt** ed, all too aware that failure to safeguard Malfoy would see his own destruction as the malignancy of a broken Vow would overcome him. His concentration never wavered even though **Moaning Myrtle was still sobbing and wailing overhead** – too much was as stake **. When Snape performed his counter-curse for the third time, he half-lifted Malfoy into a standing position.**

**'You need the hospital wing. There may be a certain amount of scarring, but if you take dittany immediately we might avoid even that ... come ...'**

**He supported Malfoy across the bathroom, turning at the door to say in a voice of cold fury, 'And you, Potter ... you wait here for me.'**

Snape ignored the various students who stared at Malfoy's blood-stained clothes as he marched the boy to the hospital wing, and deposited him with Poppy. He told her quickly what had happened, even noted how her hand had flown to her mouth in shock when he had told her Potter had been the perpetrator of the Dark curse.

To think, a few days ago, her shock would have given him a frisson of pleasure. Now, it only served to highlight the unworthiness of the boy for whom he had had to sacrifice all he loved, the boy whom Dumbledore valued more than he valued Snape. It was bitter knowledge.

He and Poppy helped Malfoy into a bed and, as she produced the dittany, Snape took his leave to return to Potter.

**Snape stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. 'Go,' he said to Myrtle,** who was wailing histrionically. She **swooped back into her toilet at once, leaving a ringing silence behind her.** He would speak to her later to find out the rest. He glared malevolently at Potter.

**'I didn't mean it to happen,'** Potter **said at once. His voice echoed in the cold, watery space. 'I didn't know what that spell did.'**

As if Snape would believe such nonsense: did a boy use a spell without understanding what it did? Was Potter really so idiotic that he had no idea of Spell Latin after five years at a School of Witchcraft and Wizardry? Perhaps, he had picked up more Pureblood habits from Black than Snape credited. Had Black ever heard Snape use it?

**'Apparently I underestimated you, Potter,' he said quietly. 'Who would have thought you knew such Dark magic? Who taught you that spell?'**

**'I – read about it somewhere.'**

**'Where?'**

**'It was – a library book,'** Potter said. No library book contained Snape's spell, Snape knew. **'I can't remember what it was call – '**

**'Liar,' said Snape.** He was not going to be lied to by this brat, always getting away with the most outrageous insubordination. Well, this is what that type of leniency would lead to. Snape would not countenance his Cutting Curse gaining any currency amongst the students of this school and he was not prepared for Potter to simply refuse him the information. Dumbledore wouldn't like it, but Dumbledore could be damned on this occasion.

_Legilimens!_

The boy was still unable to resist. Nothing had changed there. With hardly any probing, his own old **copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_ swam hazily to the forefront of his mind ... ** his own small handwriting declaring it to be _'the Property of the Half-Blood Prince'_.

Snape broke the spell and they stared at each other **, in the midst of this wrecked, soaked bathroom.**

**'Bring me your schoolbag,' said Snape softly, 'and all of your school books. _All_ of them. Bring them to me here. Now!'**

**The** boy **splashed out of the bathroom.** Snape waited like a statue, his anger barely contained. So there was the answer to Potter's success at Potions: it was Snape's own. _Just like his father_ , Snape thought viciously – content to steal from Snape. His father was the same, he stole from Snape too. Finally, Snape could expose the boy for the fraud he was – even if it was just between the two of them.

Ten minutes **later,** Potter **was back in front of Snape, who held out his hand wordlessly for Harry's schoolbag.** Potter **handed it over.**

**One by one** , **Snape extracted** the **books and examined them. Finally the only book left was the Potions book, which he looked at very carefully before speaking.** It wasn't the book he had glimpsed in Potter's mind.

**'This is your copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_ , is it, Potter?"**

**'Yes,' said** Potter **, still breathing hard.** Snape wondered if Potter had taken any detours along the way to be that out of breath.

**'You're quite sure of that, are you, Potter?'**

**'Yes,' said** Potter **, with defiance.**

**'This is the copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_ that you purchased from Flourish and Blotts?'** asked Snape, knowing the book he had seen in the boy's mind was certainly not a new book – indeed, it had been second-hand when Snape had bought it all those years ago.

**'Yes,' said** Potter **firmly.**

**'Then why,' asked Snape, 'does it have the name "Roonil Wazlib" written inside the front cover?'**

**'That's my nickname,' he said.**

**'Your nickname,' repeated Snape** , feeling his anger rising more **.**

**'Yeah ... that's what my friends call me,' said** Potter **.**

**'I understand what a nickname is,' said Snape** , as he regarded the boy coldly. He knew that the boy was lying, but it made no difference that he couldn't prove it. Potter had used a Dark curse – the sainted creature that Dumbledore moved heaven and earth for – and Snape was not going to let that pass.

**'Do you know what I think, Potter,' said Snape, very quietly. 'I think you are a liar and a cheat and that you deserve detention with me every Saturday until the end of term. What do you think, Potter?'**

**'I – I don't agree, sir,' said** the boy **,** unable to meet **Snape's eyes.**

**'Well, we shall see how you feel after your detentions,' said Snape. 'Ten o'clock Saturday morning, Potter. My office.'**

**'But sir ...'** he **said, looking up desperately. 'Quidditch ... the last match of the –'**

**'Ten o'clock,' whispered Snape.** Of course that would get the boy's attention! Snape had known the loss of Quidditch was really the only way to punish him. **'Poor Gryffindor ... fourth place this year, I fear ...'**

**And he left the bathroom without another word** , furious. The boy he had vowed to protect was a liar, a cheat and used the Darkest of spells. But Snape couldn't deny his anger was directed at himself as well. That Darkest of spells was the one that Snape himself had created at a younger age than Potter, and he had counted himself the cleverest of young wizards. These were the spells that alienated Lily from him as each became Darker than the one before.

_"But Sev," she said, when he demonstrated it. "That's never going to have an innocent use, is it? It's horrible."_

_"No, Lily. It could be defensive," Snape had stammered, shocked she had been so very horrified._

_"A Shield Charm is defensive, Sev. Or a Disarming spell. This is so ... oh Sev, don't you see? It's nasty. It's cruel." Her small hand had touched his. "It's Dark."_

He remembered how sad those beautiful eyes had looked: sad, worried and something else – something new - mistrustful.

They were arguing more and more, usually about magic like this. She no longer saw his Spell creation as fascinating and a sign of his cleverness and talent; she had started to fear it – maybe even to fear him and his allegiances. At the time, he had thought he could bring her round when she saw how powerful he would become. He had not understood then how with every Dark spell he created, he chipped away at her loyalty to him, and with it, his own soul.

The memory ripped at his heart. It was that Darkness then that had led to his Vow for redemption: the Vow that conspired to rob him of his happiness.

* * *


	100. The Flight of the Prince

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes from Chapter 24-25, 27-29 of HBP are in bold and © J.K. Rowling

Snape stood over Malfoy and glowered at the boy's attempted sneer, seething himself that Malfoy and Potter's souls were given such high regard, and yet his was not.

"Don't lie to me, Draco," Snape growled.

"Why do you believe a stupid ghost over me?" the boy spat.

"Don't be so childish. You tried to use an Unforgivable Curse! Don't you realise, you could end up in Azkaban - just like your father?"

"You'd love that, wouldn't you? Then you could take all the glory ..."

"Be quiet!" Snape barked, lowering over Malfoy now. "Don't you think I have ample opportunity to do the deed, every single day?" He drew away from Malfoy, irritated by the boy's intransigence. _Idiot!_ "Let me assist you! Look what happened to you today ..."

"Yes! What happened is saint bloody Potter gets away with Dark curses! I could have been scarred for life!"

"So you'd better thank your lucky stars, Draco, that I was there to save your wretched hide! Do not doubt that you could have died!" snarled Snape. "However Dark the curse Potter used was, it wasn't an Unforgivable and you would do well to remember that." Snape stood away from the bed as Malfoy edged away from him.

"Are you ... are you going to report me?" Malfoy's pale eyes glittered with fear.

"I have sworn to your mother to protect you, Draco. But -" Snape pointed at Draco warningly, "do not try my patience any further."

With one final glare, Snape turned and strode away from the boy, to meet with Minerva as Potter's Head of House.

oooOOOooo

Twice that week Dumbledore had left the school on his missions. He still did not confide the purpose of his absences to Snape or even Minerva, but each time Dumbledore ensured that **every secret passageway out of the school was covered** and that there **were powerful enchantments on every entrance into the castle.** All the Heads of House were told, and two would take it in turns with the other two to patrol if Dumbledore's absences were at night.

Before breakfast on the day after his second absence, Dumbledore visited Snape in his office.

"How are your ... ah ... investigations?" asked Snape, moving his latest letter from Alphard to the pile of notes of Lycanthropy, without casting the spell to conceal it.

"Bearing fruit, I believe," answered Dumbledore, cryptically. He picked up Alphard's letter, keen eyes flicking over it.

"May I be so bold to suggest, Severus, that these papers ..."

"What of them?" snapped Snape, snatching the parchment form Dumbledore's hand.

Dumbledore looked over his glasses at Snape, admonishing him in silence. "I was going to say that it might be wise to place these papers – so very revealing of your true allegiance – in a place of safety. Be sure you are ready when the time comes. I doubt we will be able to plan it."

Snape scowled at Dumbledore, who smiled sympathetically, and then offered to walk with Snape to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Of course, Dumbledore was right, but even the suggestion was so heavy with consequences. Dumbledore meant that once Snape had killed him, Snape would have no time to hide his researches and his treasures. Whether Snape was arrested or escaped after the deed, Aurors would search his quarters, his office and probably his house at Spinner's End. If these papers were found, or any other of a number of mementoes Snape had, one wrong word to the wrong person would destroy years of careful planning.

After breakfast, he spent the next few hours gathering all his research papers, his letters from Lupin, those from Alphard, the casket that had contained their bonding circlets, the small photograph album he had found at Spinner's End, even  
the blanket that Lupin used in his wolf form. He picked up the blanket in both hands and held it to his nose. The smell of the transformed wolf was still strong, but he knew it would fade in time. He cast a charm on it to preserve it, like a precious perfume. Then, he carefully placed them all in his old school trunk.

He took his collection to the bedside wall. Dumbledore had created a compartment in the stone of the castle, as only the Headmaster could. Only Dumbledore and Snape knew the spell to open the compartment. Snape opened it now, and hid his treasures next to the real sword of Gryffindor.

Whenever he retrieved some of the researches to continue them, he was always careful to replace them. Each night, he retrieved a few of Lupin's letters to read to himself before bed, to help himself relax after visiting with the Dark Lord in the evening.

His collection of letters from Lupin was growing – each letter read and re-read, memorised and called to mind whenever the services required of him at Malfoy Manor drained him emotionally. He would always report whatever had happened to Dumbledore, of course, but Dumbledore could not give him the solace that Lupin had.

Snape used to tell Lupin of the terrible things that happened when he attended on the Dark Lord. He would confess all that was capable of confession. Lupin would caress Snape as he told Lupin all the horrifying things he did or he saw. Lupin would whisper endearments to him and soothe his troubled soul. He would kiss Snape gently and tell him he was working for the Light. Lupin had showed Snape that he was understood, even if he couldn't divulge all the detail. Lupin had made him feel so loved, so worthwhile, and he had felt fortified to face what had to be faced.

It was all he needed at that time to lighten his increasingly oppressive load. It was everything he wanted now and he missed it more and more each day.

oooOOOooo

This Saturday, he retrieved the most recent letters and notes from Alphard and took them to his office. It was a fine, late spring day. Snape reminisced that it was the type of sunny day that always put a spring in Lupin's step, making him drag Snape outdoors to eat or just to walk.

Simple pleasures, now denied.

Today, he was to oversee Potter's detention instead. He had given it a great deal of thought, wondering how to impress upon _the Chosen One_ that school boy mistakes, large or small, could last a lifetime.

Filch had provided the answer quite by chance at the last staff meeting, and Snape unlocked his office just as Filch joined him, huffing and puffing, as he pushed a trolley filled with **many cobwebbed boxes** upon which sat Mrs. Norris **.** Snape directed Filch to **pile** them **on a table where** Potter would **sit.**

He dismissed Filch and then went through the boxes until he found the years of his own education, **boxes one thousand and twelve to one thousand and fifty-six** , and placed them on the top. He knew exactly what would be found easily. He flicked through and found what he was looking for within seconds. His lip curled in disdain just as Potter knocked on his office door.

He set Potter to work copying out **the crimes and punishments** of bygone students **afresh and, making sure that they** were **in alphabetical order, replac** ing **them in the boxes** without **magic.** It was mind-numbing, and he knew the many references Potter would find to his father and Black would bother him. But that was the point, wasn't it?

Potter forgotten, Snape turned his attention to the letters from Alphard he had brought with him.

_Dear Friend,_

_I hope this letter finds you both well. I have not heard from you for weeks. I confess I am concerned. Please write so we know that all is well ..._

There had been four letters that Snape had not yet answered, including their usual exchange of full moon information. Snape had no full moon information to impart but he couldn't bring himself to divulge this to Alphard.

Alphard set out his latest results with Snape's variations on their preparations with his usual efficiency. Then, he carried on to tell Snape how he, Idris and Angharad fared, and the pack in general. He even told Snape about how Stacy was learning to control his magic now that he had learnt to control and harness the strength of the wolf within. Lupin would be so interested to learn more about Stacy's unique condition: the damaged man, but an undamaged wolf. Snape would ask on his behalf. Perhaps, one day, he would be able to share the news.

But other than this, Snape didn't really know how he would answer. He certainly couldn't tell Alphard, as well-meaning as Alphard was, that Snape and Lupin had been forced into a separation. He told himself to keep his response business-like. Express the solicitations that he knew Lupin would and then move swiftly on to business: it was the only way.

Response penned, he spread out the latest trials from the elderly werewolves in Idris's pack and began to collate Alphard's results with his further improvements.

Working on the werewolf medications made him feel closer to Lupin, and he soon lost track of time as worked on the various minor permutations that Alphard was setting out for him, each permutation triggering ideas as Snape called on his encyclopaedic knowledge of Potion ingredient reactions and interactions.

Before he knew it, he had whole scrolls full of further notes and annotations and only a low growl of his stomach told him it was past lunchtime. He looked up to see Potter, sullen and desultory, still copying out the cards. It was enough for today: Snape dismissed the boy and then set about tidying up his own papers to lock away.

He recalled how he had taunted the boy: **_"It must be such a comfort to think that, though they are gone, a record of their great achievements remains ..."_** If Lupin had heard it, Snape knew he would have admonished Snape – not nastily or angrily. Just carefully, trying to understand Snape and help him to conquer his demons.

Snape thought of how well Lupin bounded his temper. How Snape's sarcasm and eye-rolling would be met with gentle chiding or soft humour; his snapping and tart remarks met with gentle acceptance which, in turn, would make Snape think twice. Just being loved by Lupin made him feel he had worth. Every day it was denied to him made him feel worth less than the day before.

oooOOOooo

The month of May moved inexorably on.

Snape taught; he oversaw more pointless detentions of dunderheads; he experimented with werewolf potions; he brewed Lupin's Wolfsbane; he brewed Post-Cruciatus and Legilimency Potions in the largest cauldrons he had; he made spurious notes on his Muggle-murdering poisons; and he attended upon the Dark Lord in the evenings, ever hopeful that the meetings would be for information and not for torture. Seldom were his hopes fulfilled.

Dumbledore's absences were frequent, but what little he told Snape seemed to be optimistic. Occasionally, members of the Order would supplement the Heads of House on patrol during these absences, but it was always either Moody or Shacklebolt or William Weasley; never Lupin. When Snape thought about it, it was never Tonks either.

Snape wondered how often Lupin saw her. There was no way he could know now he didn't attend Order meetings and when Lupin wrote, he only wrote of his feelings for Snape.

Lupin's letters were always full of love and longing and, as the moon waxed full, always encouraging and wondering when they would see each other. Snape never doubted that he was missed.

That was all he needed, surely?

But each letter was a confirmation of absence: a parchment instead of an embrace; ink instead of a kiss; a revealing spell instead of the sight and touch of his beloved's body; words of love instead of love itself.

Snape yearned.

oooOOOooo

 _The dream is dark. It_ _is erotic._ _He is surrounded by a dark crimson glow, and he is swirling in the air, levitating as warm zephyrs lightly buffet all of his naked body. His back arches and his neck extends, thrown back in ecstasy as he slowly writhes. His skin is being tantalised. He is thrilled by the touch of fingers, palms of hands, a tongue, lips and teeth playing on his skin. Down the tendons of his neck, on his Adam's apple, down his sides, down his breast bone, to his navel, circling down to his pubic hair, tracing along his too-hard erection, into the sensitive slit at the top and around and under to his testicles, to his most sensitive bite, playing on it until it reaches his opening and plays inside pulsing on that bundle of nerves that makes him cry out in an agony of ecstasy._

Oh, he has had this dream before! Even in sleep, his mind and body recognised the dream and welcomed it.

_His body begins to buck and snap in mid-air in remembrance but also in magnified sensations of rapture. He strokes the beloved face that hovers over him, of the man whose every touch thrills him to the core. He tells Remus he wants him, he needs him, he begs for him, he cries out for him. He stretches out his hands to stroke his lover's body, knowing every curve, every hard plane, every scar and flaw, and he needs it. He seems to fall into the darkly blue eyes of Remus, bathing in his love even as Remus enters him and his orgasm explodes and exquisitely shatters his body like glass._

Snape's eyes flew open, gasping for breath, his stomach covered in his forceful ejaculation. Wolf dreams! He had forgotten how powerful they were. Lupin had sent them, just as he had from Egypt - he thought of Snape still as his lover! Snape moaned aloud, and then curled into himself to try to remember all the sensations.

After so many nights without proper sleep, not daring to dream, this was the first night he managed to sleep, mind and body somehow rested by his husband's distant attention.

oooOOOooo

The May full moon felt as desperately sad and lonely as the last. Tippy brought him news and fervent letters, and took news and letters in return, but these didn't do more than take the edge off the pain Snape felt, and Snape only had to read Lupin's letters to feel Lupin's pain and confusion getting ever greater.

Snape knew Dumbledore had asked it of him and his geas obliged him to obey, but even as May turned to June, the separation was becoming harder to bear, even though Snape accepted every wolf dream Lupin sent to him. Sexual release was not enough, not for either of them.

oooOOOooo

"Do you need to be away so frequently?" Snape asked when he'd finished reporting on the boasting of the Death Eaters of their latest _Imperius_ conquests at the Ministry.

"It has been like a jigsaw puzzle. Did you have jigsaw puzzles when you were a child, Severus?"

Snape hiked an eyebrow impatiently. "Of course."

"It takes patience and logic, of which I have an abundance." Snape rolled his eyes, and Dumbledore paced the floor, as he so often did. "I have been trying to trace a place, from fragments I heard nearly sixty years ago. That is where I have been going."

"How can you trace a place from so little?"

"The glimpse of a postcard, the names of two children who were there, tracking them down and hoping they will co-operate." Dumbledore looked serious. "That they will allow me to assist in their recollection," he said softly. Snape frowned.

"This place? Is it so important to what you're doing?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"Oh yes." Dumbledore stood in front of the open cabinet that housed his Pensieve with its racks of many shapes and sizes of phial, each containing a swirl of silvery blue memory. "It is vital."

oooOOOooo

Snape pressed himself against the door of Lucius's study to hear better.

"I'm telling you, he sneaks out to see his paramour!" hissed Bellatrix. "It's disgusting and loathsome!"

Snape's blood froze. Had they been discovered?

"Will you tell the Dark Lord?" asked Yaxley. "You have to be right. If you accuse him wrongly ..."

"I know! I know! They meet at the weekends. I will reveal his treachery this weekend - to the Dark Lord himself!"

Snape slipped quietly away. It could not be him. He had not seen Lupin for months – but someone had trespassed on Bellatrix's distorted sense of propriety and, whoever it might be, Snape pitied him and his lover.

oooOOOooo

Lupin's letters, still full of longing, were becoming demanding as well. Snape couldn't blame him: his plan to manoeuvre Lupin into relying on Tonks clearly wasn't working. Part of him was profoundly grateful that he wasn't so easily replaced, but how was he to keep Lupin safe if he gave in to their mutual need for each other.

Snape read the last paragraph in Lupin's latest letter again. He could feel the heat in it, the growing anger of the wolf denied.

_Why don't you come to Order meetings? Albus fobs me off when I ask why, and tells me you can't be seen at school. You surely can't want to be with them so often? My love, please tell me, you don't go there every night! Please, I need to see you. I need you. Call me with the mirror. Do it soon._

With each letter as they moved towards the June full moon, bitterness began to seep through the confusion and loneliness.

oooOOOooo

 _The dream is dark. It_ _is erotic and yet it is dangerous._ _He is surrounded by a dark crimson glow, and he is swirling in the air, levitating as warm zephyrs lightly buffet all of his naked body. His back arches and his neck extends, as strong hands fist through his hair and pull on it harshly. He slowly writhes as his already-sensitive skin is bitten, gently at first, but then painfully, soft touches become hard, caresses become grasps, harsh and spiteful. The bite is found and the sharp teeth re-make it greedily. The Claim suffuses through him and his body bucks and snaps to the Claim's demands. It is rapture, but pain trims the edges of his ecstasy. He reaches out to stroke the beloved face of Remus that hovers over him, his eyes dark with desire but also with anger, his expression lascivious and demanding, his every touch rapacious. Remus tells him that he wants him, he needs him, he belongs to Remus and he will never let go. Severus begs for him, he cries out for him and yields to every cruel grasp and demand Remus makes on his body, no matter how painful, no matter how unkind. He needs it, he wants it. Remus enters him forcefully and his body shatters in bloody shards of agony and ecstasy._

Snape sat bolt upright, gasping for breath, his body trembling from the exertions of the wolf dream. He even felt the throb in his lower body as if Lupin had been here and taken him in the harsh manner of the full moon. It was the strongest dream yet and, for the first time, it had been aggressive. Snape knew then: Lupin was being pushed too far.

oooOOOooo

Snape had marked all the homework parchments, and he pulled the parchment of his latest fabricated experiments for the poison. He always had to have these updated in case the Dark Lord called for a progress report. It was dull work, but at least it was not as pointless as that which Potter was currently doing.

Snape's eyes flicked up from his desk and saw Potter lost in a daydream of his own. Snape scowled. No doubt, the boy was thinking of his new girlfriend. For Merlin's sake, it was even the talk of the staff room: Slughorn and Minerva wittered about it like a pair of clucking hens!

"Doubtless, you wish you could enjoy the fine weather, Potter," said Snape, silkily. "However, the more you dawdle, the longer you will stay here. I suggest you work assiduously if you want to take **advantage of the varied opportunities** this weather offers."

"But sir ..." whined Potter, indignantly.

"Whether it's this term, or the next, you _will_ finish these boxes," said Snape, repressively.

Snape sneered at Potter's look of horror at the threat. A muscle jumped in Snape's jaw. Even limited time with Lupin would be a feast to him right now.

oooOOOooo

By the June full moon, it wasn't just the wolf dreams that spoke of Lupin's distress and impotent aggression, even his letters were now unguarded. Snape could even see it in the pressure of the nib of the quill, the savage upstroke of the penmanship. The wolf in Lupin was stirring in anger ever earlier, as the very first lines of the latest letter were testament.

_My love. Are you my love anymore? Why don't you speak to me? What I have I done? What have you done? Is the company of Death Eaters preferable to mine? Speak to me. If you love me, speak to me._

Holding his head his hands, he read Lupin's note again. Lupin's distress was so obvious and it mirrored Snape's own. He didn't blame Lupin – he blamed himself. He had handled it badly.

How did a man like Lupin go from something so emotionally and physically demonstrative and passionate as they were - to nothing? To just dreams? How could Snape expect it of him? If Snape couldn't abide it, how could Lupin?

Snape blinked rapidly, and touched his inside robe pocket and then slowly withdrew the mirror. He placed it on top of the letter. Snape looked at the **crescent moon** outside, and decided. Tonight - once Dumbledore had returned from his latest mission – Snape would call Lupin tonight. They would arrange to meet and Snape would tell him the truth of their separation: that it was necessary to keep Lupin safe, and then ... then ... Snape didn't know what Lupin would do, how he would react – but at least he would have as much of the truth as Snape could tell him.

Once Snape had resolved, he shivered – partly in anticipation of seeing Lupin once more, partly in fear of Lupin's reaction. Snape didn't believe Lupin would understand, but at least he would no longer be confused and in pain.

And Snape wanted to see him so very badly.

Snape cast the charm to conceal Lupin's writing once more, and carefully placed it in his robe to be locked away later. Then he went back to the experiment he had been conducting before Tippy had delivered the letter.

He recommenced the delicate brew based on the latest potion calculations Alphard had sent him. He peered at the different pipettes along the brewing line, watching how the changes in colour and consistency fulfilled his expectation of the process and the estimates he had made until the distilled essence dripped slowly into the final phial.

Not a cure, but a possible decelerant, that is what he and Alphard hoped for! He might not be able to be with Lupin, but he still hoped to ease Lupin's physical suffering.

 **It was nearly midnight** , just as Snape perched on the edge of his high stool to record his findings, he heard shouting from the corridor. He looked up quickly just as Filius **burst his way in Snape's office.**

"Severus! Death Eaters in the castle!"

"What?" Snape snatched up his wand. _No! No! It couldn't be!_ His mind shrieked at him. _Not now!_

"You have to come **back with** me **and help**!" Filius shouted. Snape couldn't risk duelling Filius once they got to the fighting. Silently, Snape cast _Stupefy!_ and Filius fell with **a loud thump** as his head caught the side of the stool, but Snape didn't dare stop to check him **and came hurtling out of his room** where **he saw** to his horror Granger and Lovegood standing in the corridor.

 **'Professor Flitwick ha** s **collapsed,'** he said, with as much control as he could muster. 'T **ake care of him while** I **help fight the Death Eaters -'**

With that he ran, up from the dungeons, **running up the marble staircase, his black robes billowing behind him, pulling his wand from under his cloak as he ascended, and he found the place where** they **were all fighting ...**

All.

Including Lupin.

His heart seized painfully in his chest. _If this is the time – if it has to be today, why does Remus have to be here?_

It seemed as if time stood still as the horror of Lupin being in this place at this time washed over him. This was not how he had wanted to see Lupin again.

Breaking the spell of horror, he saw, even in the dark, that Gibbon was down, as was Longbottom and William Weasley. C **urses** were **flying everywhere .** Rowle was **firing off jinxes all over the place, they were bouncing off the walls and barely missing** the fighters.

Snape ran towards them, and towards the Tower where he had seen the Carrow twins go. He saw Lupin, who froze when he saw Snape and mouthed his name questioningly, his blue eyes alert and bright with adrenaline. Snape couldn't bear to look at him, not if what he feared would happen transpired tonight.

He ran up the stairs, feeling the reverberation of a Blocking Spell that could only be bypassed by those with the Dark Mark, taking the stairs two and three at a time, his heart pounding against his rib cage, begging fate and all that was holy that it not happen with Lupin here. _Dear God, please no!_

As he got to the door, he heard Alecto Carrow screech, " **Draco, do it, or stand aside so one of us -'**

Snape's heart sank and his stomach began to roil.

It was time.

Snape swiped his wand **at that precise moment** so **the door to the ramparts burst open. Snape** stood there with **his wand clutched in his hand as his black eyes swept the scene, from Dumbledore slumped against the wall** , clearly desperately unwell **, to the four Death Eaters, including the werewolf, and Malfoy.**

**'We've got a problem, Snape,' said Amycus, whose eyes and wand were fixed alike upon Dumbledore, 'the boy doesn't seem able -'**

**But** then he heard **somebody else** speak his **name, quite softly** , quietly **.** A plea.

**'Severus ...'**

**Snape said nothing.** What could be said as he felt his skin crawl all over his body? His black eyes locked with the cerulean blue, bright with sickness, but sharp in their plea to him.

Snape's heart still beat too fast, but there was no choice now. He could not run from it. ' _If not you, then who?'_ Dumbledore's remembered words swirled in his mind.

He **walked forwards and pushed** the boy whose soul was deemed more important than his own **roughly out of the way. The Death Eaters fell back without a word. Even** Greyback **seemed cowed** by his intensity.

 **Snape gazed for a moment at Dumbledore.** It was so much harder than he thought – just to raise his wand and say those two words he'd said more than once. He had vowed – he must. _If not you, then who?_

 _But Remus is here!_ How Lupin would despise him if he was here when Snape killed Dumbledore! The pain in his chest was almost unbearable, the rush of blood in his ears deafening him. But that's what Dumbledore wanted, wasn't it? And this act would seal the end of their relationship. _Damn you, Albus!_ he wanted to scream. He could kill him for that alone!

**'Severus ... please ...'**

Dumbledore's voice was small. Dumbledore, who had spent so many hours counselling Snape when he had first turned from the Dark Lord; who had listened to all his confessions and promised him there would be redemption – that there would be hope – that Snape was worthwhile. Snape gritted his teeth, as he thought of Greyback or the Carrows torturing Dumbledore before killing him. He felt **revulsion and hatred** rise in his chest.

He would not let them touch Dumbledore.

_If not you, then who?_

He resolved and steeled his nerve.

**Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore.**

**_'Avada Kedavra!'_ **

**A jet of green light shot from the end of Snape's wand and hit Dumbledore squarely in the chest. Dumbledore was blasted into the air: for a split second he seemed to hang suspended beneath the shining skull, and then he fell slowly backwards, over the battlements and out of sight.**

Snape's jaw worked. He would never get to explain to Lupin now. Nothing would ever be right again. But he had to act!

 **'Out of here, quickly,'** snapped **Snape.**

 **He seized Malfoy by the scruff of the neck and forced him through the door ahead of the rest; Greyback and the squat brother and sister followed, both panting excitedly.** They all ran **through the door** , running down the spiral staircase.

Rowle _(the dunderhead)_ **fired off a hex that caused half the ceiling to fall in, and also broke the curse blocking the stairs.** Snape heard the fighters running forwards, knowing Lupin would be amongst them, and then **Snape and the boy emerged out of the dust.** N **one of** the fighters **attacked them** , although he saw Lupin and Minerva take on two of the Death Eaters. He wanted to stay and fight by Lupin's side, but he had to carry on – he had to.

He pushed Malfoy on through **dimly lit corridor full of dust. Greyback had joined the others in fighting.**

 **'It's over, time to go!'** shouted Snape, hoping to draw the Death Eaters away from Lupin and he strode through the corridors, his hands still wrapped in Malfoy's collar as he pulled the boy along who was almost rigid with fear.

As they reached the main doors, Snape **blasted** them **open** and a shard of oak smashed into the Gryffindor hour glass. Malfoy didn't shield himself in time and he fell as the flying glass cut him, leaving s **mears of blood on the flagstones**. Snape grabbed him back onto his feet and pulled him along out into the grounds, closely followed by Rowle. Doubtless, the twins and Greyback would follow.

Even as Malfoy and Snape began to run towards the boundary, Rowle started aiming curse after curse at Hagrid. Snape knew that **Hagrid's immense strength, and the toughened skin he had inherited from his giantess mother,** would **protect him** so he and Malfoy kept running; **they would soon be beyond the gates, able to Disapparate –**

Then Snape heard Potter **yell, ' _Stupefy!'_** and a **jet of red light soared past Snape's head; Snape shouted, 'Run, Draco!' and turned** , disbelieving, to see Potter behind him **; twenty yards apart, he and** Potter **looked at each other before raising their wands simultaneously.**

**_'Cruc-'_ **

**But Snape parried the curse** easily **, knocking** Potter **backwards off his feet before he could complete it;** Potter **rolled over and scrambled back up again as the huge Death Eater behind him yelled, _'Incendio!'_** and ignited **Hagrid's house.**

 **' _Cruc-'_   yelled **Potter **for the second time, aiming for** Snape again, **but Snape blocked the spell again,** his jaw working in his anger and distress **.**

**'No Unforgivable Curses from you, Potter!' he shouted over the rushing of the flames, Hagrid's yells and the wild yelping of the trapped Fang. 'You haven't got the nerve or the ability -'**

**_'Incarc-'_** Potter **roared, but Snape deflected the spell with an** easy **flick of his arm.** Despite all Snape's lessons, the boy had learnt nothing!

 **'Fight back!'** Potter **screamed at him. 'Fight back, you cowardly -'**

**'Coward, did you call me, Potter?' shouted Snape. 'Your father would never attack me unless it was four on one, what would you call him, I wonder?'**

**_'Stupe-'_ **

**'Blocked again, and again, and again until you learn to keep your mouth shut and your mind closed, Potter!' sneered Snape, deflecting the curse once more. 'Now, _come_!' he shouted to the huge Death Eater behind ** the boy **. 'It is time to be gone, before the Ministry turns up -'**

**_'Impedi-'_ **

**But before** Potter **could finish the jinx,** he was hit by Amycus Carrow's _Cruciatus_ and he **keeled over in the grass –**

**'No!' roared Snape. 'Have you forgotten our orders? Potter belongs to the Dark Lord – we are to leave him! Go! Go!'**

**The** Carrows and Rowle **obeyed, running towards the gates.** Snape heard Potter **utter an inarticulate yell of rage: in that instant, he pushed himself to his feet again** and **staggered blindly towards Snape,** his hatred etched in his young features: a hatred Snape had seen on those self-same features so many times when he was young.

**_'Sectum-'_ **

**Snape flicked his wand and the curse was** easily **repelled yet again, but** Potter **was mere feet away now** and Snape's impotent rage boiled over that this brat, this whelp of Potter's, thought he had the right or even the remotest talent to hunt Snape down – as if he, Potter, had lost more than Snape had this night – Snape who had lost everything: his lover, his father figure, even his reputation – everything.

He saw clearly the boy m **ustering all his powers of concentration,** and read easily the formation of **_Levi-_**

 **'No, Potter!' screamed Snape** , his mind now in a turmoil, that _that_ spell, the spell that had been the start of his humiliation at the Black Lake and the pivotal point of that final irrevocable destruction of his friendship.

He cast a violent Repulsion Jinx against the boy **. There was a loud BANG and** the boy **was soaring backwards, hitting the ground hard again, and this time his wand flew out of his hand. Hagrid** was **yelling and Fang howling as Snape closed in and looked down on him where he lay. Snape's pale face, illuminated by the flaming cabin, was suffused with** pain, grief and **hatred.** Hatred of the father who cast Snape's spells to humiliate him; hatred of the son for stealing them and doing to the same – both of whom Dumbledore had cared more for than he cared for Snape. It all coalesced in his mind, cutting him deeper than his overwhelming grief could bear.

**'You dare use my own spells against me, Potter? It was I who invented them – I, the Half-Blood Prince! And you'd turn my inventions on me, like your filthy father, would you? I don't think so ... no!'**

The brat **dived for his wand; Snape shot a hex at it and it flew feet away into the darkness and out of sight.**

 **'Kill me, then,' panted** the boy **. 'Kill me like you killed him, you coward -'**

 **'DON'T -' screamed Snape,** his grief for Lupin – for Dumbledore – for Lily - tearing at him, feeling as if his heart and soul had been flayed raw – and all to protect this boy and his fate **, '- CALL ME COWARD!'**

In his grief, Snape **slashed at the air** with a hard Whipping Curse **across** Potter's **face, slamm** ing him **backwards into the ground.** Snape moved forward, blinded with rage now, but suddenly there was a mighty **rush of wings above him and Buckbeak** flew **at Snape, who staggered backwards as the razor-sharp claws slashed at him** and caught him across the chest, as the creature screeched its rage. Snape stumbled backwards, brought back from the brink of madness and he ran **as hard as he could, the enormous beast flapping behind him.** He made the gates just as the beast bore down on him, and turned into his Apparition, tears streaming down his face.

oooOOOooo

Snape staggered and grounded himself, the pain of the slashes of the beast's talons to his shoulder and chest taking his breath away. He breathed in deeply to control himself. At least the injury would cover the real reason for his distress and he clasped his arm across the injury to ensure it was noticed. As he passed through the enchanted barrier, he heard whooping and cackling of celebration coming from the open doors of the manor itself as the other preceded him.

As he passed through the doors, he saw Narcissa holding Draco, her eyes bright with tears of gratitude finding his, and then nodding as he passed. Bellatrix stood, her dark eyes full of malice and resentment. The Carrows bragged about the battle to her and some of the others. Greyback and Rowle chimed in with their parts, telling of Gibbon's glorious death.

The Dark Lord stood at the furthest point in the room, his crimson eyes alight with anticipation, his face pulled grotesquely apart in the widest of smiles as Snape approached. The Dark Lord swept towards him, and Snape knelt. The Dark Lord placed his hand on Snape's head in a parody of benediction.

"You have done well, my servant."

"My Lord," Snape said, quietly, keeping his eyes to the floor, his Occlusion gradually falling back into place as he tried to regain his composure.

"This injury?" The Dark Lord pointed to Snape's torn robe with the tip of his wand.

"One of Hagrid's beasts, my Lord. A Hippogriff."

"An attack Hippogriff. How novel. Hagrid and his inappropriate pets. Nothing ever changes." The assembled Death Eaters laughed sycophantically. The Dark Lord's head turned in a serpentine manner as he loomed over Snape, his face ever closer.

"How does it feel, Severus?" His voice lingered sibilantly. "After all these years ... how does it feel to be liberated from the old fool and his notions of _love_?"

Snape held out his hand that still shook. "My body still rushes with adrenaline, my Lord."

"The thrill of the kill, Severus," the Dark Lord's high voice sang. "The thrill of the kill."

He swept away and turned to face Snape once more. "You are my most trusted servant, Severus. Narcissa – tend his injury. Then ... we must celebrate!"

oooOOOooo

In the study, Snape shrugged his robe off one shoulder, careful to keep the rest on to cover the Claiming bite at least. The slashes down his shoulder and chest had sliced through one of the bites on his chest. Narcissa sensed his reluctance to undress further and deftly cut away the shirt instead of asking him to undress fully.

Without speaking, she cleansed the wound and then knitted it with her wand. Snape took the dittany from her.

"I can finish this," he said quietly. "Would you have a spare shirt and robe?"

"Of course, Severus."

As Narcissa summoned a house-elf, Snape applied the dittany liberally but quickly so that Narcissa could not see the bite restored. He pulled his torn robe back over his shoulder.

"You succeeded, Severus," said Narcissa, as she handed over an expensive shirt of pure silk, undoubtedly her husband's.

Snape nodded and transfigured the shirt to be smaller and removed the ruffles with quick, efficient swishes of his wand.

"Yes, it is done. At last." He managed a small, tight smile and then turned from her to remove his torn and blood-soaked robe and shirt, cast a Cleaning Charm over himself and slipped on the clean shirt. Then he transfigured the fine robe, embroidered with finest silver threads to a smaller size and pulled that on too.

His hands still trembled as he transferred his possessions to the pockets of the replacement robe. He located a Calming Draught and also a Sobriety Potion. He knew there would be drinking. Tonight of all nights, he could not allow himself the oblivion of inebriation even though he desired oblivion above all things. He sipped from both.

"You fulfilled your Vow to me, Severus," said Narcissa, her eyes still bright. "I can never thank you enough."

He knew he should feel the absence of the weight of an Unbreakable Vow fulfilled. He should feel his soul ease with its expiry, but his soul was too bereaved to appreciate that it was gone, or that his murderous oath to Dumbledore had been completed, or even that the Fidelius of the killing was broken. For in fulfilling the Vow and his oath, there could be no freedom for him.

There were still just too many shackles on his soul to feel anything but anguish for all that was lost this night.

* * *

 

 

 

 

* * *


	101. Hue & Cry

Snape Occluded his mind as deeply as he was able. It was akin to having his conscious feeling mind immersed in a claustrophobic black fog, impenetrable to the Dark Lord's intrusions.

In many ways, it protected him not just from external intrusion, but from his own sharp heartbreak, making him more of an automaton as he moved around the assembled Death Eaters, receiving their congratulations as his due, as if disposing of the greatest wizard of all time had been a welcome task.

To all outward appearances, Snape was proud of the killing, an unpleasant smirk painted on his sharp features as he accepted yet another cut glass flute of fine champagne from the Malfoy cellars. At least, he knew his Sobriety Potion was working: his reasoning was sharp and lucid.

The Dark Lord invited Snape to take the seat at his right hand side then he turned to Bellatrix and said, slyly, "This is how my loyal servant demonstrates his devotion." An ugly flush coloured her cheeks, pleasing the Dark Lord even more and he uttered a nasty little laugh.

Snape said very little as the assembled company laughed raucously as the Carrows described Dumbledore falling from the Astronomy Tower, complete with mimes, and spat snide remarks about Draco's inability to cast the Killing Curse at the defenceless old man.

Draco stayed in the corner with his mother. He glanced nervously around himself occasionally, his mother protectively holding the back of his robe, and yet holding her head high. Snape thought the boy was on the verge of tears. He suspected Draco's Occlusion would not hold out once it was tested.

"No such reservations for our Severus, though," chuckled Yaxley and the Dark Lord laughed. The sound made Snape's skin crawl with revulsion: as if he needed reminding how he had struck down an unarmed man.

"Yes. Poor Draco. Destined to be as useless as his father," sang the Dark Lord, unpleasantly, sneering at the boy. "Perhaps, Draco – you should have a different role model. Someone who knows how to serve his master."

Draco flinched, but his mother did not. The pained look that flickered briefly across her face confirmed to Snape that she was used now to being bartered with.

"What say you, Draco? Perhaps, Severus here should be your new father figure," said the Dark Lord, silkily. Bellatrix cried out in dismay, and Narcissa's eyes shone with tears, even as the boy's chin jutted in resistance, although his quivering lip gave his terror away. Snape knew it was the provocation of distress which the Dark Lord enjoyed. Narcissa was the only one of the three who managed any form of self-restraint but it was Bellatrix and Draco who the Dark Lord looked upon in cruelty.

"Perhaps Narcissa should be Severus's reward after all," the Dark Lord whispered. "Perhaps - I will keep Lucius in Azkaban and give his titles and wealth to Severus – a servant who capable of doing as he is asked."

Many of the Death Eaters sniggered maliciously, revelling in the downfall of the most pompous and entitled of their number. There would have been a time when Snape would have relished such a denigration of his former abuser, but his own pain cloaked deeply within his Occlusion permitted no respite.

Snape smiled his tight smile, as if he too was highly amused, but he cared not. All he cared about at this precise time was being able to get through the night without betraying his complete grief. Respite, in the form of spite, came from the Dark Lord himself.

"I think, Severus, that Narcissa should be your prize. Take her to her room. She is yours to command!"

The Dark Lord grinned wider with each of Bellatrix's pleas against the gift as Draco stood in front of his mother, galvanised from his own self-pity by the horror of the 'gift'.

"No? Not Severus?" chuckled the Dark Lord. He leant forward to Bellatrix, an inch away from her face. "Then who shall it be to receive the gift. And which gift?" The Dark Lord gestured delicately between mother and son, his implication clear. Narcissa gasped as her hand flew to her throat as she realised what the Dark Lord meant to do.

Even in his deep Occlusion, Snape rebelled at the trading off between a woman and her son, a boy without protection, just as Snape had once been, amongst these men, some of whose taste ran more to pain as power than to pleasure. Snape's eyes caught Narcissa's, and he quickly cast _Legilimens,_ his wand out of sight beneath the table.

_'Trust me!'_

Snape stood sharply and he beckoned Narcissa abruptly.

"Thank you, my Lord. You honour me."

The Dark Lord inclined his head in agreement. Whistles and cat-calls sounded around the room, ever louder with each imprecation Bellatrix uttered against Snape. Of course, she dared not actually curse him as it was the Dark Lord's direction, but her malevolence glittered in her eyes just the same – her distress a feast for the Dark Lord's own.

"Narcissa it is, then," pronounced the Dark Lord. "Remember, you are my gift to Severus. Be obedient in all he asks. I will hear if you are not."

Narcissa stood, her eyes still bright fighting humiliation and shame, her teeth biting into her trembling lower lip.

Snape turned and swept from the room and Narcissa followed him, her head held high, gesturing for Draco to remain behind even as he blustered and struggled against his aunt's cruel grip.

As soon as they reached Narcissa's bedroom, Snape carefully warded the door. He knew (as the Dark Lord did not) that she and Malfoy had separate bedrooms – they had done for some time. He also knew that her room adjoined her son's. Malfoy's child-like attachment to his mother was something of a whispered joke in the Slytherin common room. He did not ward the adjoining door.

Narcissa stood before him, miserable and afraid but trying to hold her chin up. Snape stood away from her. Swallowing hard, Narcissa knelt before him.

"Please, Severus. I understand that we must do this, only ... please ..."

Snape reached towards her, and helped her to her feet, still holding her shoulders.

"No, Narcissa. No, we don't."

Snape led her to the bed and helped her to sit, and stood away from her once more, sickened by the pleading in her voice and eyes, by the acceptance that he would do what had been commanded of him.

"You sleep here, and I will take the chair over there."

"The Dark Lord will know," she whispered harshly. "Remember what happened before ..."

"He has witnessed your family's humiliation in front of his chosen. It is enough."

At that moment, the adjoining door burst open and Draco rushed in, his wand aloft although his hand was shaking.

"Get away from my mother!" spat Draco through gritted teeth.

"Draco, stop!" Narcissa cried, but Snape was faster. The boy was knocked over by a speedy jinx and he fell at Snape's feet as Snape slammed the adjoining door and this time warded it against all comers.

The boy's chin trembled to be so unceremoniously dealt with, but Narcissa knelt next to him and embraced him.

"Severus will help us, Draco. When will you trust me on this?" She stroked back his hair, even as Draco's eyes glittered with hatred and despair mixed.

"He's not to be trusted! Look! He even wears my father's clothes!" Draco hissed.

"Draco," his mother said, keeping her own voice calm. "I gave them to him because his were ruined. Now stop! You don't know what you're saying."

"Yes, I do! Well, you'll never be a man like my father!"

"I sincerely hope not," Snape drawled. "Now, see to your mother." Snape frowned as he watched her face. "She has suffered much to shield you."

With that, he turned his back on them both and found an armchair by the large French windows and sat down, resting his head back and closing his eyes, his wand resting across his knees.

Images of Dumbledore's face bathed in the green killing light and Lupin mouthing his name played over and over in his mind, but he dared not show his distress, even as he listened to the mother comforting her son, words indiscernible, just the tone of reassurance and love.

Eventually, he noticed that the murmurs had stopped. He looked up and saw that Narcissa and Draco had fallen asleep on top of the counterpane, the mother with her fingers in her son's hair; the boy almost child-like in her embrace, his face pale and drawn even in slumber.

Snape envied them this comfort.

At Draco's age, Snape had been a fervent acolyte for the Dark Lord, his heart full of bitterness and resentment, hungry for power at whatever cost. He had done all that the Dark Lord had bidden him and done it willingly.

And now, after all these years, he was still paying the price for those choices.

Suddenly, as he watched them sleeping, he felt the bonding circlet ignite and flame through his arm.

Gasping in pain, he staggered out of the armchair and through the French windows onto the balcony and locked it behind him. He panted as the pain flared brighter and brighter still and he bit back a cry.

Then, as suddenly as it began, it ceased and slowly he managed to regain his breath as his arm continued to tingle maddeningly.

What did it mean? Snape had only felt it once when the Dark Lord had tried force Snape to violate Narcissa. Lupin had felt it too. The bond's flaming reaction had helped him throw off the _Imperius_ curse and to preserve their bond.

So this must mean ... their bond was threatened now. And Snape had no way of defending it. _Perhaps I have no right to,_ he thought hopelessly. He closed his eyes and felt them sting and then he clutched his upper arm, half-expecting to feel the circlet come loose under his clothes, but the circlet remained embedded there.

The bond was not broken.

Not yet anyway. How long would it be before Lupin renounced his murderer of a husband?

If Snape could just speak to him ... if he could just ... just ...

He suppressed a sob as his Occlusion fell away and he looked out over the immaculate grounds of the Malfoy estate, hearing the unearthly cry of the white peacocks that strutted, like their erstwhile master, below.

This was exactly what Dumbledore had planned: Snape to be unassailable as the Dark Lord's right hand man, his most trusted – trusted by the Dark Lord so he could do Dumbledore's bidding.

This trust was once what Snape himself had craved beyond all else – except the hand of Lily Evans – indeed, he had thought that it would win him Lily's hand. How foolish he had been. How little he had understood what love was then. Despite his heartbreak, he had to be strong and fulfil his vow but ah! how he wished – how he wished Dumbledore had not made that final demand of him.

He exhaled heavily and shut his eyes once more, imagining Lupin coming to stand behind him on the balcony, and wrapping his arms around his chest, kissing the side of his head and murmuring in his ear:

_"All done, Severus. Sshh. My love. All is well. Everything is going to plan."_

Snape imagined himself leaning back on Lupin, drawing on his warmth, physical and emotional, and feeling safe and loved.

If only.

His knuckles whitened around the balustrade of the balcony, and he shivered. It was just before dawn and quite cold, but he could not cast a Warming Charm.

oooOOOooo

There was a more subdued atmosphere when Snape led Narcissa down to a late breakfast. Knowing looks were exchanged between the few remaining, even though most were badly hungover, but Snape and Narcissa kept their counsel. Draco followed shortly after, now understanding the need to keep his Occlumency in place or his mother would face far worse than the pretence of being Snape's paramour. His mother had finally made him understand that sometimes one must dissemble, no matter how dishonourable it might seem.

"See, Severus! You have made the special edition," the Dark Lord said with a small laugh and passed _The Daily Prophet_ to him as Snape took his seat on the Dark Lord's right hand side.

Snape's stomach knotted to see the photograph of Dumbledore, at his most genial and benign and, next to it, a photograph of himself, scowling as he always did when photographed. To Snape, he looked like a killer. He wondered what Lupin was thinking as he read this. Where was he? How hurt was he? Who was he with?

**Wanted for Questioning for the Murder of Albus Dumbledore!**

_Severus Snape, 37, long-standing Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was named as being a person of interest in the hunt for the killer of Albus Dumbledore._

Snape frowned in confusion. How was it that he was only 'a person of interest'? He was sure Potter had seen everything. Surely, he had told the Order who had cast the Killing Curse. He read further on to see that Pius Thicknesse had named him as being seen leaving the scene at the same time as Harry Potter was also seen chasing the Death Eaters. Such a clever misdirection. But of course, this is why the Dark Lord had been so keen to have Thicknesse at his disposal.

And then there was the journalist of the piece, Rita Skeeter: a woman so full of bile for a child whom she barely knew. Undoubtedly, she was more interested in pursuing her own agenda with Potter as he read all the veiled aspersions she cast against Potter's character and stability. Snape wondered what had engendered such an animosity and, within his Occluded mind, he knew Dumbledore would chuckle at the irony of Snape's questions.

Within hours of the late breakfast, the Dark Lord had sent out most of his Death Eaters to find out how enquiries progressed. A watch was placed on Spinner's End to ensure Snape's house was not compromised and the Dark Lord instructed Thicknesse to ensure that no Aurors who were members of the Order were part of investigations against Snape.

It quickly became apparent that Yaxley had been busy with his own special form of 'recruitment' to the Dark Lord's cause by _Imperiusing_ not only Thicknesse but a number of mid-level Aurors. They were being directed away from Snape at every opportunity.

"You must lie low, Severus, until I have the Ministry in my grasp. Then the hue and cry will die down," the Dark Lord said, and Snape could see that the Dark Lord had every confidence that the fall of the Ministry would be soon.

oooOOOooo

The day had been long and had felt arduous. Snape had not slept the night before – not because he didn't trust Narcissa or Draco, but because he was afraid of his dreams.

Even Snape's waking dreams of Lupin and Dumbledore made him heartsick. If he allowed himself to sleep, what nightmares of green light and falling, broken bodies or Lupin trying to follow him up those spiral stairs but being blocked by the Dark Mark from each other would plague his sleep? What cruelty might Lupin's wolf dreams visit on him, even if Snape felt he deserved such cruelty for what Lupin must now be going through?

Snape dared not sleep, but his emotions felt flayed, his mind stretched and his body weak.

He took another Pepper-Up Potion to keep him awake and focused, mixing it with a Calming Draught, to keep himself unemotional. No-one knew better than he that he could not rely on this cocktail for long without seriously undermining his physical and mental health. But for now, it was necessary especially as he heard raucous catcalling from the hall of the Manor and knew another had been selected for punishment.

With a heavy heart, Snape breathed in sharply and made his way down the grand staircase.

"Mask!" ordered the Dark Lord in his high, clear voice to the Death Eaters who stood in a circle.

The Dark Lord gestured to his right hand side as Snape masked, even as his stomach churned. Someone was to be punished before all the Death Eaters. Snape felt the Dark Lord's magic reverberating.

"Bring our guest, Bellatrix," the Dark Lord said softly, his red eyes settling on the Death Eater opposite Snape. Markham.

Chuckling wildly – an ugly noise that verged on cackling - Bellatrix appeared at the double doors of the hall with a blindfolded woman dressed in Muggle clothes, her hands bound behind her. Snape had never seen her before but he saw Markham start in his place and struggle to retain his composure.

"Yes, Alfred. I believe this young lady is known to you." The Dark Lord leered at Markham and swiped with his wand so that Markham was unmasked before all.

The man's terror was plain to see. He was already sweating profusely and his eyes were large and wild even as he tried for his wand, in vain.

"Oh no, Alfred." A flick of the Dark Lord's wrist, and Markham was immobilised. "At least, not yet."

This must have been what Snape had heard the other night. This woman was Markham's lover. Snape only had to look at the terror in Markham's eyes to understand that in some way she was unsuitable by her blood. A Muggle-born, perhaps? Snape felt his own fingers twitch to arm himself.

The woman was led into the circle and Bellatrix, giggling madly, removed her blindfold with a spell.

"What's going on?" asked the woman breathlessly as she blinked against the light.

"Hello, dearie," Bellatrix said, her lip curled unpleasantly as the woman's eyes went wide at the sight of her, and then comically so at the sight of the Dark Lord as she gasped out loud and whispered a prayer, unable to break her gaze from the crimson eyes that regarded her with such distaste.

In that instant, Snape knew with a chill that settled over him like a shroud that the woman was not a witch at all – Markham had fallen for a Muggle. There could be no hope for her, and probably none for him either.

"An abomination," hissed the Dark Lord, as he grimaced in hatred. "It must be removed." With a quick slash of his hand, the woman cried out in pain and was thrown to the floor at Markham's feet.

"Do it, Alfred. Clean the smear from your name. Redeem yourself ..."

Tears were rolling down Markham's face, even has his lip trembled and his frame shook against the curse that immobilised him.

"... or die."

The Dark Lord lifted the spell, and Markham nearly fell, then staggered and then dropped to one knee before the woman.

"Alfie!" she beseeched him, her eyes darting to the masked men around her. "What's going on? Why are you dressed like that? Who are these men?"

"SILENCE, FILTH!" Bellatrix screamed and the woman gasped as her voice was silenced, as Markham gathered her, now shaking, to himself.

"My Lord, please." Markham's voice wavered. "A mere dalliance. The fault is mine. Not hers."

"Of course it's yours, _Alfie,_ " the Dark Lord taunted. "So you must remedy it."

Snape fancied he heard the Dark Lord linger sibilantly on the first word, but then he realised that the great snake was approaching – wending its way towards the prone couple. The woman saw it and Snape saw her fear as she began to cry and beg silently as she pushed herself into Markham's body, clutching at his robes. The surrounding Death Eaters laughed, especially Bellatrix, whose laugh was as gleeful as her expression was manic.

"My Lord, I beg you!" Markham cried, shaking with terror, his fingers entwined in the trembling woman's hair, as the snake approached.

"Death from Nagini's venom is painful, Alfred. Long and tortured. Won't you spare your ... _your lover_ ... such a lingering - excruciating death," the Dark Lord, his voice dripping with false pity. "Put it out of its misery."

 _Oh sweet Merlin!_ Snape thought, sharing Markham's visible agony as the kneeling wizard begged over and over again for mercy, to Obliviate the woman and let her go. The Dark Lord's sneer became more pronounced with every plea. The Dark Lord didn't care whether the woman suffered or not. He wanted to see Markham kill her. He wanted to force Markham to destroy what he loved and, in so doing, destroy Markham himself.

The hall fell silent, but for the hysterical pleading of Markham.

The snake was mere feet away now.

"You know the spell, Alfred," whispered the Dark Lord, his eyes alight with malevolence.

Markham clutched the woman to him and kissed the crown of her head, tears rolling down his cheeks, even as his wand-tip just touched under her chin.

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

It had taken all Snape's iron self-control not to vomit when Markham had killed his lover. Markham then refused to be separated from her lifeless body, howling in his grief. The Dark Lord had stood and watched, interested, perhaps even intrigued, by the emotion on display.

And whilst the Dark Lord stood, so the rest of them stood, until the Dark Lord bored of it and sent Markham to be with his unnamed lover.

oooOOOooo

The only chance Snape got to be alone was to take himself to the Malfoy library, ostensibly to continue his researches on the poison. In reality, he needed to be apart from the callous chattering and joking of the Death Eaters about Markham and his Muggle lover, and the random acts of violence that would suddenly be unleashed by the Dark Lord if an acolyte fell short, even unwittingly, of the Dark Lord's expectations.

Although he feigned disinterest, Snape devoured all the newspaper articles on Dumbledore and the arrangements for his funeral, and even on the seemingly dead-end nature of the murder investigation.

The school had not closed, as some had speculated. Most students (other than those from Slytherin) remained and the funeral would be in a week's time. Of course, he could not go. He – the killer – was denied a farewell, even though it was he who needed that farewell so greatly.

Perhaps, there was some way he could get into the castle – some ruse he could use? Even if he couldn't pay his last respects at the funeral, sooner or later he needed to speak with the portrait and it couldn't wait until September.

Now more than ever, Snape needed guidance in the lonely quest that Dumbledore had bequeathed to him.

 

* * *

 


	102. The Confusion of Loss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes from Chapters 29 & 30 of HBP and 1 & 33 DH are in bold and © J.K. Rowling  
> 

The ruse had been simple once he had focused on the issue. The damned poison the Dark Lord wanted so dearly: all his notes were at Hogwarts.

The Dark Lord had been resistant to allowing Snape to leave the Manor. Snape had dissembled well: he had mentioned, as if in passing, that the previous month's work would be spoilt if he could not keep it tended and there was, of course, Wolfsbane Potion to be prepared for Greyback and his pack – all his equipment was there – his ingredients. Once safely in, Snape was sure he could take care of business undetected in rooms only he knew of – he had, after all, spent twenty-six years of his life there.

The Dark Lord had smirked, as if Snape had mentioned something which amused him, but then his expression became serious once more.

"But _that_ day? The place will be full of visitors – Aurors – dignitaries ..."

"Quite so, my Lord. Everyone's attention will be diverted, and one more won't be suspected." Snape baited the hook to let the idea be the Dark Lord's.

The Dark Lord inclined his head. "Polyjuice?"

"A wise choice, my Lord. If I may suggest one of our own from Magical Law Enforcement?"

 

oooOOOooo

Pius Thicknesse was very tall. It felt quite odd to be that tall. And to have such a protruding brow that it shaded Snape's vision. And to have a beard. Snape rubbed it with his hand, hating it as he did so and then Disapparated to the gates of Hogwarts just in time to join with the main cohort of Aurors on guard duty. The real Thicknesse had drilled Snape on what their plan had been for the day. Originally, Thicknesse had not intended to be present, but made an hour of his schedule available for Snape to fill.

This suited Yaxley, who had found it necessary to re-apply the _Imperius_ Curse on more than one occasion. He took this opportunity to stay with Thicknesse to reassert his control as Snape ventured forth in Thicknesse's guise.

The pretence was easy enough. Snape behaved with the studied arrogance of a pureblood and ignored the minions who kept their distance. Two by two, they went to their assigned posts and he had very little to do to seem like the offhand supervisor. Within ten minutes, he was alone and, with his knowledge of the castle, quickly found one of the many disused corridors, Disillusioned himself and made his way to the dungeons.

Thicknesse had told Snape that he had cast the Auror Cordon Charm on Snape's quarters and office and had shown him how to unlock it. When he reached his quarters, he quickly cast and the door yielded to him immediately.

He stood at the threshold of his old life and found himself unable to move at the scene of devastation. Most of his books were thrown around, some even ripped from their bindings, and his furniture destroyed – the upholstery on his settee and armchairs torn, the bookshelves broken, the contents of the desk drawers dumped on the floor. If the Aurors had been searching, it had hardly been methodical.

Suddenly, he broke the paralysis of shock, and strode to his bedroom, wondering what he would find there. He quickly cast to find any other charms, but found only Thicknesse's locking charm once more.

This time, however, there was no destruction. Only mess. All his clothes had clearly been searched and left strewn around and his bed stripped and turned over, the bedside tables emptied. Snape attention snapped to the wall, to the window Lupin had made for him. It seemed intact. Snape went over to it, running his fingers over it to make sure it had not been damaged. He breathed a sigh of relief then turned to the wall where the secret compartment lay.

A quick casting showed that to be undetected. He opened the compartment, ignoring the glint of the sword as he obsessively checked that each of his treasures was there, finally holding Lupin's letters to himself as if they were talismans. He pressed the bundle to his lips, smelling the parchment and, just vaguely (or perhaps it was his imagination), Lupin himself. He packed the bundle of treasures up again and sealed the compartment.

Then, Snape manoeuvred the mirror so it had a view of the Lake and he sat at the foot of his bed to watch all the people filing along to the seats set out before the Lake. He knew many of them, realised that many knew him to be the killer of the man they had come to honour. Had they known he was watching them, they would have believed him to be gloating. They did not know the truth – the terrible truth.

Then he saw Lupin. His breath stopped. He cast a spell to magnify the sight. It was as if Lupin were no more than two feet from him. So near, he could almost ...

Ah! Lupin looked so tired. So sad. So defeated. Tonks walked with him – her hair **vividest pink**. She touched Lupin constantly: a light touch to his elbow; a squeeze of his arm. Snape searched Lupin's face for reciprocity, but all he saw was weary smiles that didn't reach Lupin's sad eyes in response to her happiness.

Snape couldn't understand what he was seeing. One look at Tonks, so vibrant and happy as she looked at Lupin with undisguised adoration, and one would think she had finally achieved her heart's desire, unseemly as that should be at a funeral. But when he looked at Lupin, he did not see affection returned. Tonks patted Lupin's arm and turned to talk to Kingsley as Moody pulled Lupin to one side. They talked earnestly together, Lupin's mannerisms agitated as Moody's magical eye seeming to bore into him. If only Snape could lip-read. Snape wondered what Moody was thinking now – now that all his vociferous objections to Snape had seemingly been proved right.

Snape Summoned the radio from the drawing room. It only needed a mild _Reparo!_ to repair the damage from someone having thrown it to the floor. Then Snape tuned it until he found the funeral on the Wizarding World Service. He wouldn't be able to hear Lupin, but at least he could listen to the eulogy and share the moment with him.

Then he saw Tonks retrieve Lupin – like a piece of her property – and they sat next to each other, and she held Lupin's hand. And he allowed it to be held, but that was the most that could be said.

Snape burned at the sight, and then covered his mouth with his hands, as that familiar sob threatened to escape again.

How could he object? What right had he? He had pushed him to _her._ He had left Lupin – lied to him that he was undercover and then left him without a word. Four months without each other. If it burnt Snape, what was it doing to Lupin?

Snape crawled forward on his knees and knelt in front of the window, searching Lupin's face. He raised his hand and stroked the glass where Lupin's face was displayed.

Oh, Lupin looked so drawn –so very unhappy.

Was it just the grief of Dumbledore's death, or was he grieving for Snape too? Was it wrong to hope it was for himself too? Snape wished he could Disapparate with Lupin at that moment and just stroke his hair from his blue eyes and hold him close.

He was just aware of the students and teachers filing in to the unfilled seats, but Snape only wanted to look at Lupin. Then he heard a strange noise interrupt the radio commentary, and saw Lupin look towards the sound. Snape adjusted the view to see he was looking at the Lake and then he understood that it was a **chorus of merpeople singing in** Mermish **.** It was **not unpleasant. It spoke clearly of loss and despair.** Snape wondered when there would be another Headmaster who could speak Mermish. He wondered whether there would _ever_ be another. It would certainly not be Snape. He spoke many human languages, and prided himself on his skill with the dead languages of antiquity that accessed ancient magic for him. But he had the prejudices of his kind: he had never sought to learn to truly understand other magical beings.

Then he saw Lupin's attention turn to the aisle and Snape's breath hitched as he saw **Hagrid walking slowly up the aisle and, in his arms, wrapped in purple velvet spangled in gold stars, was Dumbledore's body.** Snape couldn't help but roll his eyes almost affectionately at the cloth that covered Dumbledore – so lurid, but so very appropriate. **Hagrid placed the body carefully upon the table** and **retreated down the aisle** towards the back row **.**

Snape felt the heat of tears begin as he thought of the terrible things Dumbledore had done to him, the constantly throbbing pain in his heart at the loss of Lupin – so near, across the grounds, but cruelly out of Snape's reach.

But then, as a **little tufty-haired man in plain black robes** began the eulogy to Dumbledore, Snape remembered the terrible things he had confessed to Dumbledore who had listened unflinchingly, and who helped him back to the Light path, away from the corruption of the Dark Arts that had seemed so sensuously beautiful to him when he was young - fulfilling him and gratifying him, seeming to expunge his desperation and unhappiness replacing the need for companionship with the greed of power - until he was enveloped and riddled with the decay of his blood master.

After the fall of the Dark Lord, and Snape's compact with Dumbledore was sealed for the protection of the boy in Lily's memory, Dumbledore gave testimony to the Wizengamot on Snape's behalf and extracted him from its retribution. From that moment on, Dumbledore told all without exception that he _trusted_ Snape, his belief in Snape unshakeable.

In the following years, he counselled Snape tirelessly and had pried loose those Dark bonds, tendril by tendril, hook by hook, claw by claw until Snape could breathe again – think in terms of others again. It did not make him a happy man or a kind man, but he began to be hopeful man – a hope that he might one day gain redemption for his many sins.

Then Snape found love. Or, rather, love found him.

Lupin, who gave of himself so fully, and who finally showed Snape that love held the greatest power – more redemptive, more fulfilling, more forgiving, more terrible than anything Snape had ever known, and never _could have_ known had he allowed the black bile of corruption to infect him throughout his life.

Dumbledore had freed him and had ensnared him. He had given Snape hope and stolen it from him. He had advocated love, and yet denied Snape's own true love.

Had Dumbledore loved? Loved as a man? Dumbledore had confessed to them that he had once and that it had ended badly – so badly, he had forsworn it a century past. He had forgotten how love quickened the lover, fed him and nurtured him.

Loved as a father? Loved Snape? Loved Potter even? He had been prepared to send Potter to his death, just as he sent Snape every time Snape stood before the Dark Lord and told his lies.

Had Dumbledore loved? The man giving the eulogy said Dumbledore loved his fellow man unstintingly and worked tirelessly for the greater good ...

 _Yes, but not individual good,_ Snape thought, bitterly. If the greater good meant all individual happiness, like the love Snape and Lupin had shared, must be destroyed, what did the greater good mean? In his grief, Snape became ever more confused, addled by the contradictions of the man that he could barely untangle it in his mind at all.

He was ripped from his reverie by the screams by the Lake as he saw b **right, white flames erupt** ing **around Dumbledore's body and the table upon which it law: higher and higher they rose, obscuring the body. White smoke spiralled into the air and made strange shapes ... but the next second the fire had vanished. In its place was a white marble tomb, encasing Dumbledore's body** and Snape saw **a shower of arrows soar through the air** : **the centaurs' tribute** to the only wizard who ever tried to understand them.

It made Snape's heart lurch with pain: Dumbledore who understood so much about so many, and yet so little; whose belief in love and understanding was real but circumscribed by his total faith in the greater good. Snape covered his stinging eyes with his hands as he himself whispered goodbye and wished Dumbledore a peaceful journey onward.

 

oooOOOooo

Snape watched Lupin wearily get to his feet, still shadowed by Tonks. Lupin was grasped by the shoulder by Kingsley in a gesture of consolation. Then Snape saw Bill Weasley, terribly scarred, supported by his fiancée, join them. Weasley and Lupin sat together to one side, Weasley talking but Lupin saying little, shaking his head in a dejected manner every now and then. They rose, and the small group departed, Snape watching until Lupin was out of sight of the mirror.

Then Snape felt the Polyjuice begin to wear off and he sat and endured the sickening sensation as he wondered where Lupin would go now.

He could wonder all he liked; there was no way he could know. He wiped stray tears from his cheeks and tried to focus on what needed to be done. It wouldn't be wise to attempt entry to the Headmaster's office until the staff, visitors and students had left so he set about his original purpose, and went to gather his papers – not just his reams of spurious notes of the poison but he also wanted to retrieve his werewolf experiment from his office. He hoped against hope it had not spoilt or been spoilt by any search of his office.

 

oooOOOooo

Snape removed the Disillusionment Charm as he took in the destruction of his office. His brewing line smashed on the floor, together with many jars of rare and exotic ingredients, confirming again that the search had been conducted by those too ignorant to understand what they searched for.

He found the poison notes were strangely untouched. Perhaps, Thicknesse had been instructed of their presence?

His werewolf notes, encrypted to look innocuous as they were, were merely out of order, but not destroyed. A quick spell re-ordered them and he was able to ascertain that none of his or Alphard's notes had been taken. He could replicate what he'd done even though he now knew he probably had no-one with whom to share his results. Yet another loss, and it cut him deeply.

He knew he was taking a chance re-ordering his office, but his instincts told him that if he re-established his working place here, orders would be given for its safety. With that resolution, he spent the next few hours, cleaning up the broken ingredients and making lists for their replacement – where possible. Some had been extraordinarily rare – a lifetime's collection. Some things had been irreplaceable.

It seemed this would be the way of his life from now on.

 

oooOOOooo

Snape whispered the last password set by Dumbledore, and made his way to the Headmaster's office – he supposed it was the Headmistress's office now but Minerva hadn't changed the password. He wondered briefly what she thought of him now, but he dismissed the question from his mind firmly. If the Dark Lord's plans were successful, Snape would find out soon enough.

Snape entered the office and, even though he had known it would be there, he couldn't help but start as he saw the **new portrait** of **Dumbledore slumbering in a golden frame over the desk, his half-moon spectacles perched on his crooked nose, looking peaceful and untroubled.** As if casting the Killing Curse himself and watching the funeral were not enough, the appearance and animation of Dumbledore's portrait in this office irrevocably confirmed the deed and Snape's heart beat fast, almost fluttering with fear, as the painted figure opened his eyes and sat forward with interest.

"Good afternoon, Severus," the portrait said, gently.

Snape stood before Dumbledore, taking in the replica of the man in magical oils, even down to that infernal twinkle in his eyes

"Tell me all that has happened to you, my boy."

After a moment's hesitation, Snape had sat in his usual chair before the desk and reported everything to Dumbledore, even the murder of Markham and his Muggle mistress, feeling a small amount of relief to be able finally to unburden himself.

"So, I suppose you will say you were right," said Snape, quietly. "With the Tracking Jinx, perhaps Remus too would have been found and ..."

"Voldemort is as crude as he is callous," interjected the portrait. "It did not take much intelligence to see what danger Bellatrix's investigations could yield. It was not a risk weighted in your favour, Severus. At least, you could escape that hell – turning your wand on the one you love."

"Escape?" repeated Snape quizzically. "My life _is_ a living hell. There is no respite for me. At least, when we were together, I had hope." Snape sighed heavily and looked away from the portrait.

"You look tired, Severus. Have you slept?"

"I am too troubled to sleep without a potion. And if I do, I will be plagued by nightmares, or ... worse."

"Tell me what is worse, Severus." Even in oils, Dumbledore's keen eyes seem to pierce Snape's mental armour.

Snape regarded the portrait and pinched the bridge of his nose as he realised that Dumbledore, whose knowledge was greater than anyone he had ever met, perhaps did not know all. But Snape did not want to share this most personal of secrets that Lupin could always find him in sleep and make his hurt at Snape's betrayal known to him. He waved the question away with an abrupt shake of his head.

Dumbledore regarded him once more.

"Have you eaten today?"

"I have been trying to repair what little I own in the world, as well as ... as watching your funeral. I did not think of food," Snape drawled unhappily.

"Ah," said Dumbledore, and looked kindly at Snape over his glasses. "Are you coping, Severus?" he asked, softly.

"I do what I must," Snape replied, tersely, cross that the kindness in Dumbledore's voice affected him so.

Dumbledore nodded, as if accepting that Snape would tell him no more.

"What you do is vital, Severus. Never underestimate the importance of your role."

"I just wonder ..." Snape's voice weakened as he tried to formulate his darkest fear in words. He coughed, and steeled himself. "I am back in the Dark Lord's service. I attend on him for his tortures and murders – what was the point of helping me to remorse if I am up to my eyes in evil once more?" He turned his tortured eyes to Dumbledore once more.

"You do not glory in the Dark Arts any more. You are _not_ Voldemort's man. You are your own man now, Severus, and you must never forget how hard you worked to find your way back." Dumbledore leaned forward in his portrait. "I do not doubt you, Severus. I have perfect faith in you."

The words seemed to assuage the desperate guilt that had been accumulating since Dumbledore's death, since he had no-one to confess to or reconfirm his rejection of all that the Dark Lord stood for. It had begun to feel as if silence rendered him as guilty as those who killed and tortured around him. He had not realised how much he needed – how much he _craved_ confession to rid him of the canker of evil.

But even though Dumbledore had reassured him, the agony of his separation from all he had come to value still plagued him.

"No-one now will ever believe my remorse is genuine. Not now. You have traduced me thoroughly."

"Severus, please listen to me. You are not without friends in this world - friends who know the truth of you still but outwith the reach of the Ministry."

"No-one will believe me! If this war is won and I survive – if we achieve the downfall of the Dark Lord – who will speak for me? Will your portrait be acceptable evidence for me? I don't think so!" Snape broke his fierce gaze from Dumbledore's.

"When the time comes, Severus, you will see. I have not deserted you."

Snape felt his mind spin, veering from gratitude to anger. It was right that Dumbledore not desert him, but the man whose faith Snape truly wanted – needed, above all else – what of him? Snape bit his lip and his jaw worked: he wouldn't speak more of his heartbreak. He couldn't.

Eventually, Dumbledore broke the silence once more.

"We need to start making some arrangements. Then I recommend you summon your house-elf."

"What now?" Snape rolled his eyes at Dumbledore's ham-fisted attempts to feed him, _at a time like this!_ he thought crossly.

"We need to plan when Harry breaks his mother's protection on his relatives' house. I had discussed this with Alastor only a couple of weeks ago. Ever more Ministry officials are falling to Voldemort, willingly or otherwise. We have no doubt that the Ministry will compromise any official plan and means for Harry's removal and relocation. We agreed that the best date would be the Saturday of 27th of July."

"You decided not to wait for his seventeenth birthday?"

Dumbledore nodded. **'You will have to give Voldemort the correct date of Harry's departure from his aunt and uncle's,' said Dumbledore. 'Not to do so will raise suspicion, when Voldemort believes you so well-informed.'**

Dumbledore proceeded to set out his plan. Snape could only hope against hope, he would not be asked to take part in the chase – or that Lupin would not be there to witness Snape's treachery once more. In his heart of hearts, he knew he had no hope on either score.

 

oooOOOooo

After Snape left Dumbledore, there was still much to do. He began the Wolfsbane, Lupin's and the lesser quality Wolfsbane for Greyback and his pack, in one of the rooms in the lower dungeons. As he prepared the ingredients, he wondered how on earth he could expect Lupin to accept the potion that he brewed. Then he remembered Dumbledore's suggestion to call Tippy.

What if she came and cringed in fear before him – the killer of the Headmaster? What if he saw fear or hatred in her eyes? Snape didn't know if he could bear it. But he had to get the potion to Lupin, and the balms would be running low. He inhaled deeply and, placing his silver knife to one side, he called her.

Tippy popped before him, her eyes wide, Snape saw, with apprehension.

"Professor Snape!" she said breathily, her fingers working at the hem of her tunic. The appellation took Snape aback: surely she knew he no longer had professorial standing at the school? "Professor Snape is safe!"

"Have you been looking for me?" asked Snape, relieved and bewildered both.

"Master Lupin calls Tippy to him every night to ask her where Professor Snape is because he wants to send letters or to speak to him. Tippy has to tell Master Lupin that Tippy cannot reach Professor Snape because he is veiled by strong magic. It makes Master Lupin so sad and sometimes angry. Tippy doesn't tell Master Lupin that Professor Snape is at Malfoy Manor because Master Lupin must be kept safe."

She took a deep breath and then cast her eyes downwards even as Snape stared at her, feeling his heart fill once more. _Every night, Remus calls her. Every night!_ "Tippy has kept Master Lupin safe, hasn't she, sir?"

"Yes, Tippy. You have done very well," said Snape, his throat feeling tight. "Master Lupin isn't angry with you, is he?"

"Oh no, Professor Snape!" the elf rushed to confirm. "Master Lupin is never angry with Tippy, but he ... he rages when he thinks he is alone," she finished quietly.

Snape exhaled harshly, as if the air had been punched from him. Still Lupin suffered – Snape should not have let him suffer. He rested his face in the steeple of his fingers as he tried to order his thoughts, but no order would come. It was Tippy who spoke and broke his confusion.

"Headmaster Dumbledore told Tippy that she is to look after Professor Snape, just like before at Spinner's End, to make sure Professor Snape eats properly. Tippy shall fetch some soup for Professor Snape, yes? And some tea?"

"Albus ... told you ..."

"Oh yes." Tippy nodded emphatically. "Headmaster Dumbledore told Tippy weeks ago that no matter what happens, she must trust Professor Snape absolutely and help him in all he does."

Snape blinked rapidly as the elf talked, and he sat heavily, his preparations forgotten.

"Shall Tippy fetch Professor Snape his food now?" She looked at Snape hopefully.

"Very well, but then," Snape said quickly before Tippy could disappear, "we must talk about Master Lupin's potion."

It had been the first thing he had eaten in months that had had flavour. Tippy knew by now the few things that Snape really enjoyed eating but Snape couldn't help but wonder if it was because for the first time, he had a glimmer of hope. Lupin still asked for him. Dumbledore had made arrangements. Perhaps, even testimony ... if Snape survived.

After making arrangements with Tippy, he worked on his papers with a renewed will, spending hours copying the last experiment, losing himself in intellectual rigour. Even as he wrote, his eyes fluttered, his body desperate for sleep, until he could deny it no more and his head dipped to the cradle of his outstretched arm as sleep overwhelmed him.

_The dream is dark and oppressive with latent anger. He turns in winds that lash him like whips, the chill prickling his exposed skin, trying to sense his lover even as his hands are outstretched to find him. The dream feels so different, so devoid of affection. But it is leaden with desire – a strange desire borne of unhappiness and grief._

_"I have looked for you every night. I wanted to know from you – to hear it from your own lips - but every night you deny me."_

_The voice of Remus sounds distant and ragged with barely suppressed anger._

_"It's so cold without you. I am so very cold inside."_

_Severus struggles to speak, whipping around in the air to find his lover. But as he turns, he knows he will not find him. He turns until he reaches the floor and gently drops until he is kneeling on the hard stone floor. He is naked and ashamed._

I remember this, thought Snape, the memory unwelcome with the dark foreboding of the dream.

_A cruel hand cinches his jaw, the other rakes through his hair and grabs it unkindly. He feels the nails break skin. Hot breath plays in his ear. His lover's mouth is so near his own, he would just need to reach and he could kiss him, touch those perfect lips with his own ..._

_"You will not kiss me," his lover says, harshly._

_Severus struggles to speak – to confess everything, but his lover is untrusting and unforgiving – he feels it in the vibrations in the air._

_"Was I nothing to you at all? Was everything just a ruse to gain his trust so you could strike him down?" The voice is harsh, full of recrimination – and of heartbreak. "It felt so real to me." The voice breaks with despair. "So very real. I believed in you"_

_The voice hardens. "Are you such a consummate spy?"_

_He feels his naked body being covered with his robe. It is shaming. He tries so hard to speak, to deny, to explain, but his lover speaks first – and devastates him._

_"I won't come to you again."_

"STAY!"

But as the word tore from his throat, Snape came violently awake and the dream was gone.

Snape sat up in shock, hugging himself, his fingers clutching his own ribs, feeling chilled to his soul. Was he renounced now? Was he now so beyond redemption that he was beneath even Lupin's vengeful wolf dreams? He looked to his side, through the doorway of the bedroom, to the bed where they had shared their passion and their tenderness, from Thrall to Claim to Bond.

Snape hadn't dared to sleep unmedicated before: he feared the cruelty of the wolf dreams would escalate after he had killed Dumbledore. When he had allowed himself to sleep – when he was sure of Narcissa – he had taken Dreamless Sleep so escape his nightmares and the wolf dreams which he couldn't control.

He hadn't known if Lupin had tried to send him dreams, but _now_ he knew. As well as trying to find him through Tippy, Lupin had tried every night since Dumbledore's death and now he would try no more. Snape should have given in to his dreams; he should not have waited.

He had expected rage, not resignation. He felt his glimmer of hope guttering and, reflexively, he grasped his upper arm.

The bond was unbroken.

He had to find a way - while there was still time.

He fumbled in his robe and found the mirror he has stashed on the night of Dumbledore's death. He hadn't looked at it once – he hadn't dared whilst at Malfoy Manor. He removed all the charms and saw that Lupin had called so many, many times. Snape felt sick to his stomach. He had to tell him; he had to confess what he had done and that Lupin had not been wrong, had not been fooled – that Lupin was blameless.

Snape called to Lupin in the mirror – many, many times. But there was no answer.

It was no more than he deserved.

Snape hung his head in increasing misery. He had wanted to keep Lupin safe, not hurt him so very badly. He wracked his brains: he didn't dare write – not when it might not even be read if Lupin renounced their bond.

 _Tippy! Yes!_ In a matter of days, Tippy would deliver the Wolfsbane Potion. She could give Lupin a message – a rendezvous – long overdue.

 

oooOOOooo

Snape reported to the Dark Lord that he had managed to salvage some, but not all, of his notes. He would need time to try to replicate them. The Aurors had been heavy-handed, but he was confident of success. It had not been true, but he wanted reasons of which the Dark Lord approved to be at the school and away from Malfoy Manor as much as possible.

The Dark Lord had accepted Snape's story, even checking the Tracking Jinx on him to ensure that he had indeed been at Hogwarts all this time.

"Your fealty is beyond reproach," the Dark Lord sang, even as his head swivelled and he sneered at figures in the corner, who cringed. "Unlike some."

Snape turned to see Narcissa standing with Lucius Malfoy, his skin more sallow than Snape's own, his **eyes sunken and shadowed.** Snape needed to see no more to know the man had finally been broken.

Malfoy attempted to sneer at Snape, who returned the sneer, with far more conviction. Then, with a small acknowledging nod to Snape, Narcissa led her husband from the room. If the Dark Lord had secured the freedom of Malfoy, doubtless the others from the débâcle at the Department of Mysteries would also have been freed. Snape needed to warn ... who could he warn now?

Snape told the Dark Lord that he wanted to track down Mundungus Fletcher. He was sure plans would be made to move Potter before his mother's protective charm broke as he came of age. Snape explained that Fletcher was a member of the Order of the Phoenix, but weak of will and morals. Snape had retrieved information from him before without compromising himself; he was sure he could do it again. The Dark Lord agreed: he was anxious to know Potter's plans.

As Snape departed, he passed the study, and heard Malfoy's rasping shouts, made feeble from his year in Azkaban. Then he heard Narcissa's comforting tones, trying to soothe him, exactly as she had soothed their son. Snape had no doubt that the Dark Lord, and probably others, had taunted Malfoy about the gift that he had made of her to Snape. Now, she sought to reassure him. They were the strangest couple, in Snape's view, and yet they understood each other. Malfoy was an ineffective braggart, now more so than ever, but his presence at least might ameliorate some of Narcissa's vulnerability as a lone, uninitiated witch. At worst, perhaps his presence would draw the viciousness of the Dark Lord to himself, deservedly so in Snape's opinion, rather than to his wife and son by proxy.

Snape did not stay to listen. He had a mission to find Mundungus Fletcher.

 

oooOOOOooo

With a disguise of no greater complexity than a hooded travelling cloak, Snape Disapparated to Knockturn Alley. This was not the place Dumbledore's supporters tended to frequent, except this particular man. Snape knew where is quarry would be. He swept through the alley and its byways and mews, Disillusioning himself every time he entered one of the many disreputable taverns that littered that quarter of Wizarding London. Within an hour, he had found the man. Fletcher was easily Confunded at the bar, and led to an alcove for a private discussion of decoys and Polyjuice – just enough to give Potter a chance of escape – and to plant the idea that Fletcher himself had seen the escaped prisoners in Knockturn Alley and that he would forewarn – and so forearm - Moody himself of the augmented Death Eater numbers.

 

oooOOOooo

Snape did not return to the Dark Lord immediately. He made various orders as the less salubrious emporia which asked no questions to replenish his more esoteric supplies and then returned to Hogsmeade Disillusioned. Using the Headmaster's Charms, he gained access to the Shrieking Shack and used its tunnel to enter the grounds of Hogwarts once more.

He had Wolfsbane to finish and researches to continue. But most of all, he needed time alone, away from the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters – to meditate, to Occlude, to plan, and to master his grief in peace.

 

oooOOOooo

_The dream is obscure. It is frightening. The bond is simmering, not quite burning but he knows the flame is imminent, ready to flare. The air carries his lover's confusion, his helplessness, his deep, deep longing and his unfathomable despair. His lover is searching but he cannot find who he seeks. Severus knows, in the way of dreams, that Remus does not_ know _who he seeks. Severus wants to call to him, tell him where he is, but he cannot speak, he cannot shout. He struggles against the desolate fog but he knows his lover is receding, getting further and further from him._

_It cannot wait! It must be now!_

"Remus! I'm here!"

Snape's eyes snapped open, sick with panic and slick with sweat as his eyes swept the room for Lupin. His stomach clenched as he realised that he was shouting once more to an empty room, but what did it portend? Why was Lupin so confused, seeking that he should know? Had he been injured? Was he ill, reaching out to Snape that way? Snape cursed again that he had no way of knowing what had befallen Lupin now.

But then he remembered, and called Tippy to him.

"Has Master Lupin called you this night?" Snape said, his voice unsteady with worry.

"No, Professor Snape. Not for three days now," she said.

Snape tried to control his fluttering of panic and tried to reason it for himself. Of course, Lupin would not call her: he had said in the wolf dream he was done with Snape – that must have meant trying to find him too. But this dream – this was so very different.

"Can you go to him? See if he is safe? Just see and not be seen? There is no need to speak to him if he is safe."

The elf nodded and popped away, as Snape sat on the edge of his bed, his breathing still ragged. She was barely gone five minutes, but the time dragged by until she appeared before Snape once more.

"Master Lupin sleeps, Professor Snape. Tippy checked. He sleeps deeply."

Snape was just about to dismiss her, when the question sprung from his lips unbidden.

"Where does Master Lupin sleep?"

"In his bed in the flat, Professor Snape," she said simply.

"On ... on his own?" whispered Snape, his skin prickling.

"Yes, Professor Snape. Quite alone ... although ..." the elf hesitated, and Snape leant forward.

"Tell me, Tippy."

"A witch watches Master Lupin. She sits in a chair and watches him sleep. Like a guard. The witch has pink hair. Tippy has never seen such a thing."

Tonks's vigil by Lupin's bedside caused turmoil in Snape's mind. He knew she would not harm Lupin, but the wolf dream had distressed Snape greatly. Perhaps, the dream was no more than the remnants of the Claim still looking for its mate during Lupin's sleeping hours, when the wizard himself wanted Snape no more. Perhaps, Snape should not seek Lupin out, but let him move on without him – finally let him go ...

_Dear Merlin! I can't. I can't do it. He's mine._

Snape's whole being rebelled.

Snape would have to wait – bide his time. It was too soon after Dumbledore's death to expect Lupin to be lucid. His most important concern now was to make sure Lupin had his Wolfsbane. Perhaps, after this transformation, he could find an opportunity to talk.

The next day, Tippy took the Wolfsbane as instructed. She came back with the flask and reported to Snape that there was already Wolfsbane there – bought from an apothecary. Tippy had checked the contents and, in her inestimable opinion, the shop-bought Wolfsbane was vastly inferior to her master's brew. She had switched the contents and waited, undetected, to watch Lupin drink it down.

Snape checked the flask. There was no note. He hadn't expected one really, but a small hope had still lingered. Then he frowned as a thought occurred to him.

"Tippy?"

"Yes, Professor Snape."

"Didn't Master Lupin recognise the Wolfsbane?"

Tippy seemed to think on this for a while.

"Master Lupin made the same face he always makes when he takes the Potion, but he didn't say anything, Professor Snape."

"Thank you, Tippy. That will be all."

Snape knew that no other Wolfsbane tasted like his. He had made so many modifications over the years – mostly tailored to Lupin himself. He must have recognised it. He _must have_. He felt his heart lighten. He was sure of it – Lupin trusted him still.

 

oooOOOooo

When the Dark Mark had burnt, Snape could tell from the burn that the Dark Lord was not angry so Snape went without fear or compunction. It was a full meeting, with many of the freed Death Eaters restored to their positions.

Even as Snape and Yaxley entered the room together, Snape noticed an **unconscious human figure hanging upside down over the table, revolving slowly as if suspended by an invisible rope**. Draco seemed unable to take his eyes away, but Snape couldn't make out the figure's face and looked away quickly so the Dark Lord would be certain of Snape's full attention.

It was a mark of the Dark Lord's favour that his place at the Dark Lord's right hand had been saved for him. The Dark Lord was impatient for his news, and Snape relayed the date for the boy's removal by the Order. Yaxley tried to contradict him, but the Dark Lord gave Yaxley's false trail no credence.

Yaxley, desperate for approval before the inner circle, prattled on about finalising his Imperius on Thicknesse. Snape had little time for the bragging. As far as he was concerned, Yaxley should have done it properly in the first place. However, even with the curse now fully on the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, Yaxley could not guarantee the fall of the Ministry by 27th July. As they discussed what means of travel the Order would use, Snape heard a wail from the dungeons. He believed it to be Ollivander and, indeed, just after, the Dark Lord declared that he would need to use another's wand to kill Potter.

Snape had surmised as much: the Dark Lord could not get the wandmaker he wanted so desperately, and Ollivander would not be able to make such a weapon as the Dark Lord needed to counter the deep wand magic that had conspired against him so far, so he was relying on another's wand. Snape suspected it would not avail him.

Snape kept his own counsel as he watched the Dark Lord as good as castrate Lucius Malfoy in his own home, but he felt no sympathy for him. Why should he? And as he felt no sympathy, clearly neither did the assembled company. Bellatrix fawned over the Dark Lord to assure him of her devotion, at least. Her avowals bored Snape, but he watched her intently anyway, his own confusion matching hers as the Dark Lord challenged her declaration of devotion.

**'No higher pleasure … even compared with the happy event that, I hear, has taken place in your family this week?'**

**'I don't know what you mean, my Lord.'**

**'I'm talking about your niece, Bellatrix. And yours, Lucius and Narcissa. She has just married the werewolf, Remus Lupin. You must be so proud.'**

The cacophony of **jeering laughter** receded from Snape's hearing as his blood thundered in his ears and he felt his world wrench away from him, his stomach churning violently as he struggled as he had never struggled before to maintain his cold façade. He was sure his heart beat was too loud and fast not to be heard by the whole table and that it would soon burst open with pain.

As the table's occupants made sport of Bellatrix and the Malfoys, it was all Snape could do to control his body as he felt sickness rise in his gorge and a crawling sensation spread under his skin and he forced his riotous mind that wanted to scream and rage against the lie - what _must_ be a lie - into deep Occlusion.

 **'Will you babysit the cubs?'** Snape heard Voldemort taunt Draco quietly. But it was Snape who felt the taunt like a stilletto blade through his heart.

His fists clenched under the table, his nails digging into the palms of his hands until it hurt, so he could concentrate his mind on anything other than the devastating news he had just heard, but the Dark Lord himself pulled Snape back.

**'Do you recognise our guest, Severus?'**

**Snape raised his** smarting **eyes to the upside-down face. She revolved to face the firelight** and Snape recognised her: it was Charity. Sweet Merlin, they must have snatched her within the last few days. She saw him and said, **in a cracked and terrified voice, 'Severus! Help me!'**

 **'Ah, yes,' said Snape** , his Occlusion thickening, as he tried desperately to formulate a plan – a reason to stop the Dark Lord torturing her – could he say she had some use, some esoteric knowledge that would assist them? But his mind was too sluggish, his shock too great. Before he knew, she had revolved to face him again.

**'Severus … please … please …'**

The Dark Lord silenced her and continued his diatribe against her.

**'The dwindling of the pure-bloods is, says Professor Burbage, a most desirable circumstance … she would have us all mate with Muggles … or, no doubt, werewolves …'**

**Nobody laughed this time: there was no mistaking the anger and contempt in** the Dark Lord's **voice** and Snape knew he would not be able to concoct an excuse to save her from the Dark Lord's retribution **.**

 **For the third time, Charity revolved to face Snape. Tears were pouring from her eyes into her hair. Snape looked back** , and quickly cast _Legilimens_ and rendered her insensate for when the Dark Lord began to torture her. It was all he could do, but perhaps he could save her pain, if not her life. But clearly her trespass against the Dark Lord's view was too much.

 ** _'Avada Kedavra!'_** hissed the Dark Lord.

The **body of Charity fell, with a resounding crash, onto the table below** , scattering most of its occupants **.** Snape remained seated, one shock after another crashing over him like a tidal wave, as the great snake was ordered to feast on his former colleague, just as Snape felt his own bright anguish feast on his soul.

* * *

.

What will be the aftermath of the Battle of Little Whinging when Lupin finally catches up with Snape?

 


	103. Bitter Honeymoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes from Chapters 4, 5, 9 & 33 DH are in bold and © J.K. Rowling

Snape awoke to the worst hangover he could remember. His head was so thick, he couldn't even form the intention to Summon a hangover cure. He crawled up onto all fours, his mouth woolly and dry as he managed to crack open his sore eyes and tried to focus through the pounding headache.

 _Where am I?_ he thought thickly, as his fingers closed over a counterpane heavily laden with dust and then stroked over it as if the counterpane could tell him. He managed to raise his head, despite the hammering inside it each time he moved.

The Shrieking Shack. He blinked slowly, his stomach turning over unpleasantly. How had he ended up here?

Then he remembered.

As soon as he had been able to leave Malfoy Manor, he had Disapparated to Hogsmeade and, under a Glamour, bought a bottle of Ogden's 80 Year Old Finest, 70 per cent proof, with every intention of drowning himself in drink. He had only intended to use the Shrieking Shack to get to Hogwarts, but he had been drawn upstairs to the bedraggled bedroom where he and Lupin had once spent the night when Lupin had fled from his own jealous violence.

Snape remembered he had sat on that bed, knocked the cap off the bottle and drunk deeply, seeking oblivion in drink as his mind shrieked hysterical questions.

How had this happened without his knowing? How had the Dark Lord known this? He had seen Bellatrix's horror at the revelation so she clearly had not known. He recalled the assembled company who relished her discomfort, and he had been sure the news had not come from them.

Then, with a painful jolt, he had remembered Charity. Perhaps, she had known. She had known Lupin when he taught at Hogwarts. Perhaps an Order member had told her. Minerva, probably. Perhaps, the news had been tortured from her.

He remembered he had drunk liberally from the bottle to try to numb his shock and the anguish that threatened to overwhelm him. He had pushed Lupin away, and now he had gone to the arms of the pink-haired shape-shifter. Snape had planned it to keep Lupin safe, and yet the consummation of the plan tore at his heart.

Had it been that night he had received the wolf dream – the last one – so very confused and frightened?

His trembling hand had found the bonding circlet. Their bond was not broken. What did that mean?

"Nothing!" he had spat out loud, beginning to slur. "It means nothing!"

Lupin had taken a wife – the bond allowed for it.

 _But wait … wait,_ that part of his mind that had still been lucid tried to push itself to the fore. _If Remus no longer loved me, the bond would break … it would break … break … break …_

But Snape was a jealous man, a possessive man - both failings borne of his desperate insecurity. He couldn't accept that he could still be loved if his lover was in the arms of another. He drank greedily so he could rage. He raged against the Dark Lord. He raged against Dumbledore. He raged against Tonks. He yelled and swore as he fired off destructive spells at the room around himself. He couldn't find it in his heart to rage against Lupin so he raged against himself – at his cowardliness– at his shame - at his unworthiness. He was a wretch.

So he had drunk to forget – not his troubles, for they seemed intent on staying. No, to forget himself – to be fully unconscious and uncaring because the pain in his heart was more than he could bear – more than his ribs could contain – more than the sobs that wracked his thin body could ever express.

Because he knew that he meant nothing to anyone anymore -

Except to a portrait - as a spy.

And he couldn't bear the knowledge, so he drank himself into oblivion.

And now it was morning. Shafts of sunlight shone through the broken timbers of the house, highlighting the dust motes that hung in the filthy air.

Snape managed to drag himself from the dirty bed, his head pounding and his eyes sore, stumbling over some shards of wood from the damage he'd wrought on the room. He knew he had cried – he felt the soreness of his eyes and of his throat through the queasiness. Now, he felt hollow – as if his soul had been hewn from his chest.

He stood unsteadily and knew he couldn't make the walk to the school unassisted with his head pounding so savagely. Was he such a poor excuse for a wizard that he had to call a house-elf to witness him in this state and bring him a Sober-Up Potion? He walked three excruciating steps and doubled up as his stomach rebelled and he threw up violently. It would appear he was.

"Tippy!" he croaked.

 oooOOOooo

That afternoon, he had sent Tippy once more with the Wolfsbane. Fleetingly, he had thought not to, but he could not. He had sworn to keep Lupin safe. Safe meant the best Wolfsbane there was.

He did the same the next afternoon – the day of the full moon. He had made his excuses to the Dark Lord that he tended the poison once more.

The Dark Lord had chuckled. It amused him that Snape hid in plain sight, at the 'scene of the crime'.

Snape knew now he would feel nothing but the tug, but the sickness rose again when visions came to him unbidden of Lupin with Tonks in carnality before the full moon. They were married now – how could it not happen? Every time he thought of it, he sickened and yet he could not stop himself thinking of it.

He took himself to his quarters once more and sat before his window and watched the moon, remembering how once he had run with the wolf up the mountain of Cadr Idris – he had flown on his broom – their first time running together – and it had been magnificent. The wolf had swum in the lake at the bowl at the base of the mountain and Snape had flown above, watching his wolf. A sob built in his chest, obstructed his throat, and broke free. Would _they_ run together now, like she had with David?

And then, as if to underline his unhappiness, nausea built up in gut and crashed over him in waves. Not like the sickness of separation, and not like the sickness of grief. This was a different type of sickness, like a tight ball behind his stomach, acidic and unpleasant. It lasted throughout the night until moonrise. He didn't know what it meant: whether it was part of the Claim or his own body reacting against the third person in the Claim. Perhaps Alphard knew – if only he could ask. He curled up on the floor, facing his window, and all he knew was that it all compounded his misery.

oooOOOooo

In the days leading up to the planned move, Snape, Pettigrew, Draco and his father were summoned to the Dark Lord to give all the information they knew about Potter that might assist in his capture. Had it not been for Pettigrew, Snape would have been tempted to hide what little he knew, but he needed to appear better informed than Pettigrew.

He told the Dark Lord of the Invisibility Cloak, and how Dumbledore had encouraged its use, as far as Snape could tell. Of course, the boy's flying ability was well known, but Snape mentioned it just the same, with a sneer for a talent that required neither intellect nor application. Not to be outdone, Malfoy imposed himself on the conversation to give his opinion that, given the boy's ability, Potter would definitely be flying a broom for his escape.

The Dark Lord nodded, taking in all the information, running his wand through his hand once more, as if distracted by it.

 oooOOOooo

Political power was accreting quickly to the Dark Lord now. Those sympathetic to his ideals were being approached in ever greater numbers and plans were being formulated in preparation for the fall of the Ministry. It would only now be a matter of days as more officials fell under the spell, coerced or willingly, of the Dark Lord's seductive promises of power and privilege to those he deemed worthy. The rot ran deep at the Ministry. Dumbledore had suspected as much for such was often the corruption of power, and now it was being made manifest.

Thicknesse introduced severe restrictions on the movement of werewolves, in addition to the employment rules already in place. Of course, these would only ever be enforced against those werewolves misguided enough to try to live within the law, not against the likes of Greyback, but it was Greyback and his pack's outrages that made it simple to introduce the new _de facto_ measures without demur. Under the guise of keeping the Wizarding world safe from the scourge of filthy half-breeds about whom _The Daily Prophet_ shrieked hysterically every day, any who tried to be law-abiding would soon find themselves with no option but to join the Dark Lord's growing army - or starve. The choice had become that stark.

oooOOOooo

The day of Potter's removal from his aunt's house had arrived. The Dark Lord summoned his inner circle of hooded Death Eaters to watch the skies over Little Whinging, he himself flying unaided amongst them. Those newest to the Dark Lord's cause were startled by the Dark Lord's ability to fly. Snape certainly wouldn't admit that he had since gained the ability himself _– and shared it with my husband_ , the memory intruded. It pierced him even as he flew on a broom above the uniformly dull town below.

The Dark Lord had given the order as they had congregated in the skies that none was to touch Potter but the Dark Lord himself and there they hovered, spread over the radius of the enchantment for hours, high enough not to be seen by any of the Order going to retrieve Potter, but ready to pounce when the enchantment failed.

The sun set and darkness came and, with it, a faint sound of an engine gradually became a **deafening roar** and, from his high vantage point, Snape saw Hagrid **wearing a helmet and goggles and sitting astride an enormous motorbike with a black sidecar attached** as he approached the enchantment and then disappeared through it **.** If other Order members approached the enchantment, they must have been more discreet because he saw no-one else, although he knew the Order must be amassing there. With any luck, the Death Eaters would think only Hagrid and a couple of others were moving Potter rather than the thirteen he knew had to be the minimum for Dumbledore's plan of decoys to work. He didn't consider himself a superstitious man but he shuddered as he realised the number of Order members.

The Dark Lord swooped down to the apex of the enchantment and the Death Eaters followed, spreading out in a **vast circle** so that, as soon as the Order broke through the enchantment, the Dark Lord's trap would be sprung.

The Death Eaters patrolled, keenly watching for the break, but Snape knew they would be some time yet, administering Polyjuice to the six volunteers, dressing them alike, and so on. He hoped Moody would not allow Potter to ride a broom or he would soon be picked off, Snape was sure.

The high clouds crackled with magic and expectation combined and suddenly – broomsticks and then thestrals, with two riders on each, pierced the charm right into the centre of the circle of Death Eaters, followed by Hagrid's bike. Snape felt Lily's protective enchantment shimmer and fall even as the Killing Curses started to hail on the Order members.

It only took a few seconds for the Dark Lord to realise there were seven Potters and he shrieked with fury at the deception.

"FIND HIM!" screeched the Dark Lord. "KILL THE ESCORTS AND FIND HIM!"

The Dark Lord flew immediately after Moody and that Potter, surely expecting Potter to be with the most experienced Auror, but Snape suspected that would be a ruse, if he knew Moody at all. The Potter decoy with Moody Disapparated as soon as the Dark Lord flew in front of him – _clearly no Gryffindor,_ sneered Snape – and the Dark Lord cast the Killing Curse directly into Moody's face and the old Auror's body spiralled downwards.

Snape turned and threw several convincing green light spells at Arthur Weasley, and had to block several powerful Stunning Spells in return. He saw Bellatrix and Rodolphus veer after one particular pair. He suspected he knew, even in the dark, that the escort would have pink hair. An unkind, grieving part of his mind hoped Bellatrix would be successful, then he cursed himself – he had tried to make that kind of deal before - as he swerved to avoid a Stunning spell from Bill Weasley on a thestral, protecting his father.

As he swerved, he espied Lupin with Yaxley and Courtney on his tail, the Potter decoy sharing his broom attempting to defend them both. The Stunning spell caught Courtney who spiralled downwards as another flew after him. Snape raced to catch up with Yaxley in his pursuit and his hood blew down just as Yaxley **moved ahead of Snape and raised his wand, pointing it directly at Lupin's back –**

 ** _'Sectumsempra!'_** **shouted Snape** , his panic rising that Lupin was undefended as Snape aimed to cripple Yaxley's hand **.**

 **But the spell, intended for** Yaxley's **wand hand, missed and hit** the Potter decoy instead.

Hearing the decoy's yell of pain, Lupin's head whipped around and Snape saw the horror and betrayal on Lupin's face as he saw Snape behind the wand and misinterpreted what had had seen Snape do. _It did not matter_ , Snape told himself. Lupin might no longer know the truth but the circlet would.

"George!" shouted Lupin, as he tried to hold the Potter who was obviously George Weasley on the broom and fly it in evasive manoeuvres at the same time.

"It's not Potter!" bellowed Snape at Yaxley, taking the opportunity to steer him away from Lupin. "We're wasting time! We need the real one!"

Yaxley nodded and they both banked their brooms and flew to assist the Dark Lord and Death Eaters who were chasing Shacklebolt and his decoy, as Lupin and George sped off unhindered.

All that mattered to Snape was that he knew he'd saved his lover to live another day, but at what cost? As Snape dived and banked, casting curses with seemingly grim determination all the time playing over the look of horror on Lupin's face - Snape didn't think he could pay a higher price than he had already.

As they chased down Kingsley, suddenly the Dark Lord reared up and Snape felt the Dark Mark prickle. One of them had found Potter and had called their master! The Dark Lord sped away and then Kingsley and his charge flew beyond the confines of another Charm and Yaxley and Snape and the other three Death Eaters followed in the Dark Lord's wake.

Snape watched what happened then from a safe distance, as two other Death Eaters ahead of the Dark Lord shot Killing Curses at Hagrid. Hagrid launched himself from the enchanted motorbike onto one of them as the Dark Lord screamed, **_'Mine!'_**

The second Death Eater fell away for the Dark Lord to take aim at the barely conscious boy who was undoubtedly the real Potter as the motorbike began to fall uncontrollably. Snape's felt his throat constrict with fear - surely it could not end like this!

As the Dark Lord began his incantation, Potter's **wand acted of its own accord, drag** ging **his hand round like some great magnet** and a **spurt of golden fire** unleashed which connected with Malfoy's wand and split it! The Dark Lord **screamed,** ** _'No!'_** in fury as he threw Malfoy's wand away and screamed again, **_'Your wand, Selwyn, give me your wand!'_** as he pursued the motorbike that now sped away from him. Snape saw him prepared to cast once more – but the bike passed through yet another enchantment and the Dark Lord bellowed in his rage at his inability to follow.

They would pay for this failure this night, Snape knew.

Those Death Eaters not injured were charged with finding the bodies of the old Auror and those of their number who had fallen.

"I saw where Moody fell," said Snape, and made to leave.

"Not so fast, Snape. I want to keep an eye on you," snarled Bellatrix, glaring at him, distrustfully.

"You don't wish to attend to your _dear_ husband's injuries from the Auror?" sneered Snape, his lip curling all the more for the ugly flush that spread up her cheeks.

"My work for the Dark Lord comes first!" she avowed loudly for the Dark Lord to hear.

"Clean up well, then all return to the Manor," the Dark Lord sang and he flew away in black smoke, his rage still reverberating in the air. "I have business with the wandmaker."

Snape sped off on his broom. He saw no reason to wait for Bellatrix. If she wished to follow him, she'd best catch up with him. He flew as fast as he was able. He had to check the Auror was dead. Moody held information that would be the death of Snape and Lupin if it were known and, if there was the faintest possibility that Moody had not been hit, Snape had to find him first before Bellatrix could interrogate him.

As Snape dived down to the approximate place to which he saw Moody fall, Snape remembered Moody's modified Cruciatus he used in interrogating Snape himself at the end of the first Wizarding War. _On his wrists. On his knees. It was painful, but Snape had had worse, after all. He remembered that newly-made scarred face in his own, demanding answers, promising no mercy without co-operation, thinking in some way, Alastor Moody knew ways to frighten Severus Snape. Little did Moody understand the pain and terror that had coursed through Snape's veins like his life's blood many moons since._

Snape slowed down as he reached an alleyway behind some Muggle shops. He cast a revealing spell and quickly found the old Auror's shattered body. Bellatrix arrived merely seconds later and, seeing the body, crowed triumphantly.

Then Snape remembered Moody trying to stop him going to rescue Lupin, because he didn't believe Snape could do it. He remembered no acts of kindness at all. Still, he didn't intend to let Bellatrix make trophies of the old Auror's body even as she cursed the body over and over again, whooping with demented glee as it twitched from her magic that coursed through it.

"This is pointless," barked Snape. "We need to get back to the Dark Lord." He raised his wand to transfigure the body to bury it.

"I want to take something to show to our Lord," she clipped and she moved forward, challenging Snape, like a vulture over her share of carrion.

But at that moment, they heard running footfalls and spun away from each to confront the newcomers, just as a Stinging Hex caught Bellatrix's arm.

"Get away from him!" Bill yelled, as both Lupin and Bill advanced down the alley, their wands aloft.

Bellatrix cackled wildly as Snape's wand hand trembled slightly as he tried to judge how to play this.

"Well, well, well. What have we here? A werewolf and a blood traitor!" Bellatrix's mad gaze settled on Lupin. "Beast! I didn't get my by-blow of a niece tonight, but I have business with you," she snarled, her voice low and ugly.

Bellatrix whipped her wand arm around in a wide arc, but in the moment that she used to be so madly theatrical, Snape cast viciously at Lupin and stood in front of her, as Lupin's widened to see Snape.

"Mine, I think," Snape said, his voice menacing, his eyes searching out Lupin's to try to make him remember and understand.

Lupin reeled from the force of the hex, but his wand rose preternaturally fast to parry the spell. Snape knew this had to look convincing, or all could fail. He incanted to change the spell, not with green paint this time, but a green light only, as he had as he had chased Arthur Weasley. He could do no other with Bellatrix nearby.

 _"Avada Kedavra!"_ Snape cried.

Lupin side-stepped the spell quickly, shock written on his features, replaced quickly with gritted teeth and grim determination as he cast a Repulsion Jinx at Snape. Snape only just managed to raise his Shield Charm as he heard Bill engage Bellatrix in a noisy, violent duel next to them. Snape could see Lupin's pupils dilate fully and the wolf pass behind his eyes as he cast, his rage building, his teeth bared in outright aggression as Lupin turned his whole body into the intention of maiming spells he threw towards Snape.

"You murdering bastard!" Lupin growled.

Even though Snape was a skilled and fast duellist, he knew he only escaped grievous injury because the bond recognised Snape's intention not to wound, but to dissemble, just as they had practised in the Room of Requirement. He also could see that Lupin had no such realisation.

A Cutting Curse, Repulsion Jinxes, Stinging and Whipping Hexes, all followed furiously fast, one after the other, Snape parrying and shielding as his many pseudo-Killing Curses missed Lupin as Lupin dodged them, getting nearer and nearer to Snape with each dodge and feint, snarling as the wolf, offended, grieving and outraged, came ever nearer the surface.

Snape and Lupin's eyes locked, even as Snape parried a Burning Curse.

_Remus! Remus! Please, hear me! Remember!_

But Snape knew – he could feel – the connection was closed – their mind connection was barred by the wolf's barriers and ... by something else.

He barely had time to understand when –

_"EXPELLIARMUS!"_

In his distraction, Snape's wand was Lupin's, whipped from his hand and caught in a frighteningly fast snatch, even as Lupin caught Snape by the throat, and slammed him back into the wall, making his head pound and his eyes unfocus momentarily. Snape's vision swam back into focus as he felt Lupin's fingers digging in, only Snape's collar just protecting his skin and Snape tried to pry the fingers away from his windpipe.

"You fool!" he heard Bellatrix spit as there was the loud crack of a Repulsion Jinx as he saw Bill fly across the alley and heard a muttering of transfiguration spells, even as Lupin snarled in Snape's face.

" _Accio_ magical eye!" Bellatrix screamed and then there was the crack of Apparition.

"Left you to my mercy, has she, Severus?" growled Lupin. Snape grappled with the hands that held him pinned to the wall, ever tightening around his throat, squeezing as Snape gasped to breathe against those large hands that he loved so well clenching to drain the life out of him, Lupin's handsome face made ugly by rage.

"Shall I show you the same mercy you showed Albus?"

The hatred in Lupin's voice ripped at him. Undisguised, real hatred.

_I'll let him. Let him kill me. At least then his face will be the last thing I see._

Snape went limp and his hands stopped grasping at Lupin's wrists, but held them instead as he stared into Lupin's fury-darkened eyes.

"You betrayed me," whispered Lupin, no more than a hair's breadth between their faces. "You tried to kill me," Lupin said, venomously.

Still struggling to breathe, he could not speak but he caught Lupin's eyes and, in that unguarded moment, Lupin's mind opened to him once more.

_I did not try to kill you. I bonded my wand to you. We practised for this._

In that instant, as he saw Lupin's expression change to one of shock as he released Snape as if burnt and clutched his own upper arm where the circlet was embedded. He stared at his arm and then at Snape again and reeled back with the recollection and then the realisation that Snape had duelled him to save Lupin's life.

Snape slumped against the wall, rasping for his own breath as he saw all this and more: a shift in Lupin's reality. With a jolt, Snape recognised that shift for what it was – an incomplete Memory Charm. Snape had cast enough and broken enough to know. But even as he watched all those feelings chase across Lupin's face as the Memory Charm cracked open and the horror that he had almost killed Snape with his bare hands, Snape knew he would become undone, confess his love and grab Lupin to himself if he stayed. His heart hurt. He could not stay. He snatched his wand back and Disapparated.

Back to the Dark Lord.

 oooOOOooo

"Are you such a poor wizard," the Dark Lord whispered menacingly as Bellatrix still cringed in the corner, magical eye clutched in her twitching fist where she too had been punished, "that a mere beast bests you?

_"CRUCIO!"_

And as the curse struck and flayed his nerves, and Snape screamed, the tears he'd held onto seeing the hatred in his beloved's face fell freely down his face and he knew not which made him scream and cry more: the frying of his nerves or the breaking of his heart. All he knew was that the pain helped him, helped him release this hardest of all blows, this very last straw, this final body blow that would break him as surely as the Killing Curse would stop his breath. That blow had fallen now.

 oooOOOooo

It had taken Snape a full day to recover from the Torture Curse. Narcissa had put him to bed. Snape even had a vague recollection of Malfoy querulously objecting, but Narcissa had tended him with Post-Cruciatus Potion just the same.

The following morning, one of the Malfoys' house-elves had brought Snape breakfast and Narcissa and Malfoy came to sit with Snape as he ate, albeit sparingly.

The Manor's stone walls carried the sound of screaming once more, and Malfoy and Narcissa flinched as their eyes met in desperation. Snape knew then that Draco was, once again, being guided by his master in the forms of torture, but it transpired that Draco didn't have the stomach for unfettered cruelty that his father had had at that age. The boy became more withdrawn by the day.

"It won't be long now," said Malfoy, his voice still tremulous and rasping. "Scrimgeour rarely leaves his office." Malfoy snorted. "I don't believe he realises how much danger is around him."

Snape watched Malfoy carefully, detecting for the first time that perhaps the reign of the Dark Lord did not promise Malfoy the glory of power he considered his due. Snape wondered if Malfoy wished he had a way to warn Scrimgeour – or that he had the courage to do so.

Perhaps, it always took the ruination of one you loved to bring a Death Eater to his senses.

oooOOOooo

Now recovered, Snape stared at the decrepit façade of Grimmauld Place, amazed that the Order had not thought to re-work the Charm with a new Secret-Keeper. It was foolish of him to go there, but surely no-one from the Order used it now. He let himself in and **the old-fashioned gas lamps sprang into life**. It was just as grimy and depressing as it had always been. Looking at it after such a long absence, Snape thought he perhaps understood more of the madness of Sirius Black than he had before: call this a family home?

Snape took one step forwards –

 ** _'Severus Snape?'_**   Snape's stomach lurched to hear the unexpected voice.

 **Moody whispered out of the darkness** and then a curse **whooshed over him like cold air, and his tongue curled backwards on itself,** but it quickly passed, although the pounding of Snape's heart did not.

He walked forward once more and **a figure** rose **out of the carpet, tall, dust-coloured and terrible.** T **he grey figure was gliding towards** him **, faster and faster, its waist-length hair and beard streaming behind it, fleshless, with empty eye sockets: horribly familiar, dreadfully altered, it raised a wasted arm, pointing at** Snape. A momentary flutter of panicked guilt overtook him as he stepped backwards in shock and knocked over the troll's foot, but he recovered quickly.

 _"Confringo!"_ incanted Snape as the dust apparition blew apart. Part of Snape, still shocked at the sound of Moody's voice and the aberration of Dumbledore, but the other part would have liked to have sneered at Moody, had he still lived, for his melodrama. Didn't he _know_ how much worse Snape had seen as an acolyte of a Dark wizard to be fazed by that concoction?

Snape inhaled deeply and set about his business. It was a fool's errand, but he knew he had become a fool.

He just wanted a photograph of Lupin. He wanted to see Lupin's face in repose or wreathed in his beautiful smile, not contorted in rage as he had seen him last. Their love had been so immanent and of the moment, he had never thought of photos taken as mementoes. He was sure Black must have had some.

Snape made his way up the flights of stairs to Black's room. He'd never been in it before and he looked at Black's posters of **Muggle girls** and **motorbikes** , so innocuous yet provocative in this household. His eyes roamed and immediately alighted on **a picture of** the Marauders **standing arm in arm, laughing at the camera.** Snape's heart clenched and he strode to the photograph, ignoring Black, Potter and Pettigrew, just feasting his eyes on Lupin's young self, no grey in his hair, no lines on his face, laughing delightedly. A sad, crooked smile formed on Snape's face as he drew a gentle finger across Lupin's face.

"Remus," he whispered, as the unbidden memory of Lupin's shock and confusion at Snape's perceived betrayal came to him. Snape closed his eyes against the memory, even as the next question was to wonder who had worked a Memory Charm on Lupin. Had it been Dumbledore? Tonks herself? Aurors often perpetrated Memory Charms, and not always well. He pushed those thoughts away as his fingers tried to find purchase under the photo to take it down, but it was stuck fast with a Permanent Sticking Charm.

 _"Accio_ photographs of Remus Lupin!" he said, as there surely had to be more. But nothing came to him. Suddenly, he was filled with sadness and frustration that even this smallest of things was denied to him.

Perhaps, Black had Charmed his photos not to be Summoned in case his parents had tried to find his things. Resolving this, Snape started to search through Black's bedside cabinet and chest of drawers, taking no more care than the Aurors had of his possessions. After all, all this had been abandoned – why should he take care? Finding nothing in these, Snape turned to the few books that Black had in this room, old school texts and Muggle mechanics books mainly, which had become brittle with age. He shook these out, and from one floated a folded letter.

Snape watched as it floated down and, just before it reached the floor, he scooped it up and unfolded it and then gasped as he recognised the handwriting and he knelt in shock.

"Lily."

A photo was tucked in the fold: Lily kneeling, watching her son on his first birthday on a toy broom **zooming in and out of the picture,** Potter's legs **chasing after it.**

Snape turned back to the letter. It was just a letter – a letter written when they were in hiding from the Dark Lord, full of nonsense but Snape lingered on every word, hearing Lily's voice in his head as he read. There was a time when his blood would have boiled with jealousy to read about Potter and his son, but he was past caring about that now. Now he just read each word and heard her laugh and even giggle, her Northern inflections (smoothed away, just as his had been, by absence from the Northern Muggle world) every now and then.

He had thought he would never hear her without a Pensieve again. The tears that had been threatening now flowed and **dripp** ed **from his nose as he read the old letter from Lily.** He turned to the second page and saw her signature. He hadn't seen it for twenty years and a small moan of grief escaped him.

 **_Lots of love,  
_ ** **_Lily_ **

It wasn't even addressed to him, but seeing it was a stark reminder of his vow – of the job he still had to do. **Snape took the page bearing Lily's signature, and her love, and tucked it inside his robes. Then he ripped in two the photograph, so that he kept the part from which Lily laughed, throwing the portion showing James and Harry back on the floor, under the chest of drawers.**

He couldn't say why, but seeing Lily smile and hearing her laughter in his head fortified him. He had lost so much, he had almost forgotten why he had given that all-encompassing vow to Dumbledore in the first place. He owed it to his friend to fulfil his promise. And he would.

He finished his search, but found nothing more. Finding a blank sheet of parchment, he cast a copy charm so Lupin's young likeness was copied to the parchment. It wouldn't move in that joyful laughter, but he'd managed to copy it when Lupin's smile was at his widest and his eyes sparkled. He tucked that next to Lily's photo. His two most precious people.

It wasn't much, but it was something. Something to remind him of the warmth of love.

oooOOOooo

The expectation around the great dining table at Malfoy Manor was enormous. Those Death Eaters with influence at the Ministry had reported to the Dark Lord that they now had influence over every major department, and Pius Thicknesse himself had _Imperiused_ many of the senior Aurors beneath him. Yaxley, Travers and Thicknesse had been despatched to take Scrimgeour by force. Yaxley had reported that rumours had abounded that Scrimgeour had visited Harry Potter the day before. The Dark Lord wanted that information. They were to retrieve it from Scrimgeour, no matter the cost.

Within hours, Yaxley returned with the news that Scrimgeour had not given up the boy despite their most "determined" efforts, buthe was dead and the Ministry was now in their hands. Thicknesse was declared Minister of Magic and immediately appointed Yaxley as the head of Magical Law Enforcement and orders were given to all Aurors and other Law Enforcement to remove all protective enchantments from houses known to be affiliated to members of the Order.

As the Dark Lord's right hand man, the Dark Lord did not require Snape to join the parties breaking the enchantments to find Potter. Instead, he joined the Dark Lord and a few of the other Death Eaters who had more brains than brawn and they began to fill in the plans for new anti-Muggleborn measures. Perhaps, a registration commission? Yes, indeed, the Dark Lord liked the idea of that, but first he spoke to Thicknesse for a long time in private, for he had a plan – a plan, with the power of the Ministry at his command, to root out those who dared to speak the Dark Lord's name, once and for all.

The first instance of the Taboo working occurred within hours of its inception but, foolishly, Rowle had summoned the Dark Lord for nothing. Once again, Draco was required to fulfil his punishment, for the Dark Lord's pleasure at seeing both the tortured and the torturer suffer.

The next day, it took only one instruction to Thicknesse to reduce the list of candidates for the position of Head of Hogwarts to one: Severus Snape. The appointment was made, although it would not be announced formally until 1st September, to give Snape's exoneration for the death of Dumbledore time to work through the Ministry and down through the newspapers.

The Dark Lord had considered removing all of the existing staff and packing the positions with those of his own choosing.

"If I may, my Lord. If we try to remove all those teachers, many of whom taught the parents of the current intake, we may have … presentational difficulties. Might I suggest, we fill those positions that are currently vacant, as that will cause no concern. After all, we wish to have all magical young under our remit, not have their parents remove them."

"Only _legitimate_ magical youth, remember, Severus. There will be no more Mudbloods at Hogwarts," the Dark Lord hissed dangerously, leaning forward. Then the Dark Lord sat back and steepled his long, white fingers as he regarded Snape.

"But what you say makes some sense," deliberated the Dark Lord. "Surely, old fools like Slughorn can't last long. He taught me once, after all. What positions are vacant?"

"Defence against the Dark Arts and Muggle Studies," advised Snape.

The Dark Lord sneered and the sneer became a mirthless chuckle.

"There is no requirement to defend oneself against the Dark Arts now. Learning them shall be a requirement instead."

Snape inclined his head.

"Of course, my Lord."

"And Muggle Studies must indeed continue – but the truth must be told."

"Indeed. Who do you have in mind for the appointments? The posts are time-consuming and will remove those faithful from you for a majority of the time," said Snape, hoping this would mean that the worst of the Death Eaters would prefer to remain at the Dark Lord's side or be placed in positions within the Ministry.

"Perhaps, the Carrows. I can spare them," said the Dark Lord.

Snape's stomach sank with disappointment but he supposed he should expect no better, but it would be difficult to rein in those two who enjoyed their sadistic pleasures so well. Well, he would have to find a way.

Snape outlined to the Dark Lord the work he would need to do to set up the new regime before 1st September. The teaching staff normally returned to school one week before the resumption of term, so he had plenty to do. The Dark Lord agreed that Snape should reside at Hogwarts except when he was summoned.

oooOOOooo

Snape couldn't deny that he breathed far easier now he was officially resident at Hogwart's. The Headmaster's office was now his own but he hadn't yet visited. He spent the first day finalising the repairs to his quarters in the dungeon and his old office. He didn't intend to relinquish them.

His appointment meant all the spells that Dumbledore had taught him would work to full efficiency. Using one of these spells, he cloaked his quarters from prying eyes, making it unplottable to all but those he invited.

 _And just who will I invite now?_ he thought bitterly. At least, the spell meant there could be no intruders on his privacy, and he so needed a place to call his own away from the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters.

The Headmaster's quarters still belonged to Dumbledore as far as Snape was concerned and while he still acted under his instruction, working towards his ends, Snape could never consider himself entitled to that office. He was happier with the quarters he was familiar with.

He finished the last of his repairs, and then from his robe, he produced his two photographs, one moving and one still. Tippy came with his tea, and then watched as Snape transfigured an old pewter plate into a double photograph frame, carefully trimming the photographs to fit, and folding the part of the letter he had taken so Lily's love and signature sat below her laughing face.

Reverentially, he placed the photo frame on his bedside cabinet. His two loves: both driven away by him and married to others. He just prayed that Lupin would not meet the same fate as Lily.

oooOOOooo

Snape had spent the last two days repairing his rooms and his office and setting out all of his experiments once more. The monotonous repetition of repairing spells, filing and planning and preparation had eased his agitation, if not his grief. His being away from Malfoy Manor had soothed his soul and, although nothing seemed to spare his waking nightmares (to which he had recently added Charity begging for her life, as Dumbledore had begged for death), at least they were not now added to in number. But it was now time to report all he had heard and seen over the past week and begin to plan the school term and such counter-strategies as he could get away with, as deep under cover as he now was.

Snape used the last password of Dumbledore's to let himself in and stopped dead at the sound of muffled voices. He slowly ascended the spiral stairs and put his ear to the door, then quickly opened it to march in, wand raised, but stopped dead in his tracks.

Snape could not believe his eyes. There, in the Headmaster's office, Remus Lupin talking animatedly with Dumbledore's portrait. How on earth had this happened?

"How did you get in?" Snape asked, thunderstruck and fearful. Had Lupin come to finish the job? To kill him at last? Snape took one step backwards, letting his wand hand fall, knowing he would be completely at Lupin's mercy for his wand could not defend him.

"Forgive me, Severus," Dumbledore's portrait said. "Remus apparently has many ways into the castle at his disposal. Tippy told me Remus was looking for you. I invited him here. I thought it best that we talk first."

Snape couldn't tear his eyes from Lupin. He looked unwell and a little wild. _Feral_ , his mind supplied. He searched Lupin's eyes for the loathing he must surely feel for Snape since they had duelled over a week ago. Why could he not see it?

Lupin's gaze seemed to bore into at him and the silence was heavy between them. Then Lupin quickly strode over to Snape. Snape backed up fast, wondering if he would be grabbed by the throat again, but his back hit the wall. Lupin stopped and stood merely inches from him and planted his hands on the wall on either side of Snape's face.

Lupin's eyes were red, tired and more lined even than when Snape had last seen him, as if he had had no sleep all, but to Snape he was the most wonderful creature he had ever seen. Even his scent, strong because he obviously had not washed in days, seemed to fill Snape's senses, almost hypnotising him, calming Snape because he was close to the man he loved.

Slowly, Lupin leaned forward, as if to kiss Snape, their mouths open, only centimetres apart, breathing each other's breath, scenting each other.

"Severus," Lupin murmured, his hand moving to brush Snape's cheek with the lightest of touches, making Snape's eyes briefly close at the touch, even though he could feel that Lupin restrained himself – from what? Passion? Violence? Snape didn't know, but the air was laden with expectation between them. "I need the truth."

Snape's answer was a puff of air, exhaled from the most profound relief combined with fear.

"I will tell you - everything."

* * *

 


	104. The Truth

Snape and Lupin seemed frozen in that moment, so near to each other; the only sound each heard was the other man's breathing, hyper-aware of the other in his space.

It was Lupin who eventually broke the spell when he closed his eyes and rubbed his nose slowly against Snape's, a barely audible sigh escaping him at the touch. Then the hand that brushed Snape's face moved down and slowly enveloped the Bonding Circlet on Snape's arm.

"Come," Lupin said. "Let's talk somewhere private." He gestured to all the portraits, who were gawking at them in open fascination. He pushed himself away from the wall and grasped Snape's wrist, leading him to the ante-room where years ago (it felt like a thousand), the three men had convened to plan the unravelling of a Thrall.

Lupin pressed Snape to sit on the bench by the large table and then sat astride it himself, a couple of feet away from Snape, but facing him. Lupin looked as ragged and ill as after any bad full moon.

Snape cast a charm so the portraits couldn't hear and then just looked at Lupin, wanting to touch him again but not daring to – not when the air felt so charged with the suppressed emotions of both men. It was Lupin who broke the stifling silence.

"I knew it," said Lupin, quietly. "You could not have murdered him! I knew it!" Lupin said, his voice choking with emotion. Snape hadn't known how this conversation would begin, but he had not expected this.

"But I _did_ kill him, Remus," Snape whispered, uncomprehending.

"No." Lupin shook his head, and Snape noticed how long Lupin's hair had grown since they had last been together. "Albus told me what he asked you to do – about the fatal Dark curse – about Draco. What he made you vow to do." Lupin voice was thick with emotion, and he extended his hands and picked up Snape's own. "Oh Severus, I thought my heart would break when Harry told me! I knew there had to be more." He leant forward, his eyes searching Snape's.

"The Bond didn't break! If you had murdered Albus, our Bond would be broken. It's intact – still true - so I knew," Lupin almost sobbed as he reached out and wrapped his hand around Snape's upper left arm tightly, around the Circlet again, feeling it still embedded in Snape's arm, seeming to draw reassurance from the feel. These touches – missing for so many months – made Snape's breath hitch.

"Then, when you cursed George Weasley and I was sure you aimed for me! ... Still unbroken! I thought I would go mad! I tried to find you! Tried to speak to you. Sometimes, I wanted to hunt you down for betraying me - but the Bond said otherwise. It was breaking me! I had to know!" Lupin sighed heavily, a sigh of frustration and unhappiness mixed. Snape tried to speak, to tell him how he had tried to protect him from Yaxley but Lupin held up a hand in silence: he needed to speak – just to get his thoughts out.

"And then - the Bonded wand," Lupin whispered as he frowned. "The Bonded wand brought it back to me. I knew. Angry and hurt as I was, I knew it couldn't be right. The Bond." He squeezed Snape's upper arm again. "It didn't break. Still you are true."

"Brought it back to you? What do you mean?" asked Snape, so many questions of his own forming but being forgotten with the next.

Lupin sat back, dragged his palm over his face and raked his hair.

"So much ... I couldn't remember. I didn't understand ... until the Bonded wand." Lupin exhaled heavily, and Snape could see he was still struggling. But then Lupin leant forward again, drawing a little nearer and replaced a gentle hand on Snape's own, which felt like flame to Snape. "I had to come to find out the truth - I knew Albus's portrait would be awake. Tippy found me and brought me here."

"Would you have hurt me if you'd found me first?" asked Snape, fearfully, the question of how Lupin entered the school grounds forgotten as quickly as it occurred. Lupin shook his head.

"No. After we fought, I knew. Through our Bond, I knew. Through my Claim, I knew. But everyone else knew otherwise." Lupin looked down at their interlaced fingers. "Alastor told me I'd been fooled by the best – if you could fool Dumbledore, why should I know better? Bill – well, Bill said very little critical – you know Bill – he just tried to make me see 'reason' – how could you be true after what you'd done: leaving me - killing Albus - chasing me down? They thought I was deluding myself."

The pain of Snape's perceived perfidy by the only two people who knew their secret was etched into Lupin's features, and Snape's throat felt full even just watching how pained Lupin appeared to be. He had never meant to hurt Lupin – but he clearly had, and that knowledge mingled with his own pain to make it so much more bitter. Lupin inhaled deeply and continued.

"But after we duelled – after we ... I nearly ... oh Merlin!" Lupin's voice disappeared to a whisper as he closed his eyes, and Snape knew he was recalling how he had started to squeeze the life from Snape, and how Snape had held his wrists to allow him to do it. It would haunt Snape's nightmares – surely it would haunt Lupin's – if he still loved Snape.

And that was the question.

"It was too much," Lupin said, "what Dumbledore asked of you."

"Yes, it was too much, but I did it." Snape took a deep breath. "And it cleaved my soul," he whispered and Lupin wrapped Snape's hands tightly in his own.

"Tell me first, Severus – tell me how Albus came to extract such a vow from you. I need to understand. I need to understand from you."

Snape felt his hair stand on end. Here it was – he had said he would tell Lupin everything, and everything included his most shameful secrets. He breathed in deeply and searched the tired (but to him, so beautiful) eyes that regarded him so openly, and thought a small prayer for aid to Merlin.

"You know that I became a Death Eater as soon as I was old enough to take the Dark Mark," Snape said, almost an introduction, hoping the words would come to him. "I was not in the inner circle – after all, I was only just an adult. The Dark Lord thought I had potential and I was certainly keen to learn," Snape laughed ruefully, "but I knew I would have to prove myself." Lupin closed his eyes in acknowledgement; he had heard this part before, but he didn't interrupt, letting Snape find the flow.

"I did all I could to advance myself within his ranks – it was what I had desired – what I coveted more than anything else. After a couple of years, the Dark Lord ordered me to attempt to secure a teaching position at Hogwarts to spy on Albus." Lupin's eyebrows shot up. Snape nodded. "Yes, and I went to The Hog's Head where Albus was interviewing a number of candidates. One of them ..." Snape suddenly found his breath caught in his throat at the admission he was about to make. He swallowed hard. "One of them was Sybil Trelawney."

Lupin screwed his eyes shut, making Snape wonder if perhaps Lupin already knew ... but how could he?

"I thought it would be a good opportunity to prove to the Dark Lord how useful I could be as a spy, so I listened at the door. Aberforth caught me, made it known to Albus that I'd been eavesdropping – so I knew I had no hope of gaining any position. The Dark Lord would be angry at my failure, but I'd heard part of a prophecy Sybil made concerning him."

His recollection was punctuated by a small moan of misery from Lupin. Snape knew then that Lupin understood which prophecy Snape had heard, and understood that his friends – their deaths – Black's incarceration – all stemmed from the Dark Lord's knowledge of the Prophecy – all laid at the feet of Severus Snape. Lupin didn't say it but the desolation in his blue eyes spoke of it eloquently. It cut Snape to see it, but he ploughed on. He _would_ tell Lupin everything – and then take the consequences.

"I passed on the Prophecy, but I had no idea ... you have to believe me ... no idea that the Dark Lord would take it seriously. But he did. He flew into such a rage and ordered us to find out who the Prophecy referred to. It didn't take long for them to discover the babies born at the end of July. Of course, I already knew one. Of course I did," Snape said, almost to himself.

"He said there and then he would kill them all! You have no idea what I felt then. I had just wanted to show I could gather information – I had not thought for one minute he would _believe_ it."

"Are you telling me you regretted Voldemort targeting James?" Lupin asked, his tone quiet but incredulous. "You _hated_ James."

"James?" repeated Snape, blinking. " _Potter?_ Of course not Potter." Snape peered into Lupin's face. "Do you really not remember Lily and me at all? That we were friends? Best friends?"

"You called her Mudblood ..." but Lupin's voice trailed away on the hated word and his eyes unfocused, as if trying to remember. There was no reason why he should; Snape had tried hard to hide their friendship from all – Slytherin and Gryffindor alike. Lupin took his hand from Snape's to cradle his own head, as if he had a headache. Snape noticed he kept doing this. Sooner or later, Snape would have to address the Memory Charm. Then Lupin spoke again.

"The night Albus died, Harry told us all that it was you who had told Voldemort about the Prophecy and that you had regretted it so much so you'd turned to Albus for assistance – and that was the reason Albus trusted you. I said then I didn't believe it because you hated James. Then when Harry said you'd called Lily a Mudblood, I kept turning that over in my mind. I remembered it, but something kept nagging at me." Lupin tapped his temple, as nausea crept over Snape. The boy had seen the incident at the Lake in the Pensieve – thought he _knew_ what Snape had thought of Lily. How very little that boy could ever know.

"Then I remembered how Lily stood up for you with James and Sirius. How she _always_ stood up for you before then. I tried to remember back to our early school days before ... before that day at the Lake. I couldn't remember much early on – I was so terrified of being discovered, you see?" Lupin looked apologetically at Snape, as if being a terrified eleven year old with a murderous secret was in some way a weakness. "But I remembered you always partnered Lily at potions right up to OWLs, I remembered that. And I think I recollect you and she meeting up in our early years. It was so long ago. Tell me everything."

Snape did – over the following hours, he told Lupin everything, from his and Lily's very first awkward meeting when Snape had witnessed Lily's accidental magic because they lived near each other, to how they had spent time after school and at weekends with each other: special friends with magic. Then he told Lupin about the first journey on the Hogwarts Express – how chance remarks had made three boys life-time enemies – his distress at Lily's Sorting (although why did he _ever_ think a Muggle-born would be Sorted into Slytherin?).

He told Lupin about the deserted classroom he and Lily used to meet so their friends (his housemates, if truth be told) would not know of their friendship. He told Lupin the most painful parts: how Lily and he began to fall out more and more over his Housemates' behaviour and his burgeoning interest in the Dark Arts, and over certain of her Housemates' bullying of him. Of course, he had never fully told her how bad things were for him in his own House or that he was so interested in the Dark Arts because he believed they could empower him - free him – make him a man of whom Lily could be proud. All the time, Snape wanted to keep her close, but his almost obsessive need for her and fear of another usurping him and his constantly hurt pride when she stepped in to defend him strained their relationship to breaking point.

"The day at the Black Lake," murmured Lupin, his expression soft with understanding.

Snape closed his eyes, finally telling Lupin these truths would be the point of no return. His heart beat wildly with growing panic. He thought he should Occlude – it would help him organise his thoughts. But then, he had spent so long keeping his barriers down for Lupin – now was not the time to build them again – not unless he had to.

He breathed in deeply and then let his eyes meet Lupin's, as frank and candid as he could be.

"Yes. It was the final straw for Lily. I tried ... I tried so hard to apologise. I always lashed out." He snorted sadly. " _You_ know that." Lupin gave him a small sad smile. "Dear Merlin – I didn't mean it! But she thought I'd finally let my true feelings show. I don't deny – I thought bringing wizards out of hiding was a noble aim. And I hated my ignorant, brutal, Muggle father and it was easy to equate all Muggles with him – even though I knew better. I wanted what your friends were so dismissive of – their pureblood lineage. I wanted respect." He stopped and then pushed himself to carry on. "I didn't want to be afraid anymore." The admissions seemed to suck the air from his lungs. "The Dark Arts could make me feared instead. You see, she always thought I used that class room because I was ashamed of her – I never told her it was because I feared for her ... and for myself." Snape's dark eyes glittered, his shame as bright as it ever was when he spoke of his past to Lupin, but knowing now this was leading to this one secret that would hurt Lupin so.

Snape stopped talking and looked at their joined hands, struggling to continue. Lupin seemed to understand, and waited, his thumbs stroking Snape's hands carefully. Snape's jaw worked as he steeled himself to continue.

"I don't deny I watched her growing closeness to Potter with horror. When they married after we left school, I was heartbroken. But I never stopped caring for Lily," he said. "She was ... so very special."

"Yes – she was," said Lupin softly. "And that's why you changed sides - because Voldemort was hunting Lily?"

Snape's black eyes pleaded with Lupin for understanding. "I had to keep her safe. I swear I had no idea he would take the Prophecy at face value. I never cared for Divination. It's an idiotic subject. I assumed the Dark Lord wouldn't either. I just wanted to prove I could get information."

It seemed that Lupin stared at Snape for the longest time, his expression closed, but then his eyes widened.

"The doe!" he exclaimed.

Snape nodded. "My Patronus changed when I swore to Albus to protect Lily's son. Believe me, I wasn't happy about it – bloody Potter's female!"

Lupin gave a small snort of sad laughter. "Unfortunately, we can't force the form of a Patronus but that itself is so very telling, Severus." Then his face became serious once again. "Another thing that Albus knew about you that I didn't," he said, almost to himself. "So the information from Albus's spy that James and Lilu were in danger – that was you?" Snape nodded. Lupin's gaze was intense. Snape wondered if Lupin's eyes had ever been such a turbulent blue. He looked down to their hands again, savouring the feel of even this contact, small, but so intimate.

"When did you give Albus your Vow?"

"When I told him the Dark Lord had taken the Prophecy seriously – he asked what I would give him to protect them."

"What? Why would he do that? James and Lily – and Alice and Frank for that matter – they were part of the Order! Why would he barter?" Lupin said, outraged.

"He was testing my allegiance – whether I was just trying to get the better deal from one or the other," answered Snape wearily. "I vowed to give him anything. My Vow was made that night: I was his man from that moment on. I was installed at Hogwarts. The Dark Lord was impressed that I had secured such a position of trust – he thought Albus was a fool. It was then that Albus began to counsel me away from the Dark Arts."

"And that Vow was why you stayed at Hogwarts after James and Lily died?"

"You know that Albus had vouched for me with the Wizengamot. Without him, I would have gone to Azkaban. Deservedly so. But Albus gave testimony that I had reformed and spied for the Order, and I was released under his charge. But yes, Albus suspected that the Dark Lord would return. He asked me to help keep Lily's boy safe from the Dark Lord. I was responsible, after all."

Lupin grimaced. "Partly, yes," he sighed. "But _you_ did not force Voldemort to take it seriously and it was Voldemort who killed them; Peter who betrayed them to their deaths," said Lupin, bitterly. He shut his eyes again, and Snape stayed silent, watching Lupin clearly contemplating what Snape had just told him.

"Did he use this Vow when he asked you to kill him?" Lupin eventually asked, his voice rasping.

"At first. But in the end, he asked me because he knew, if it came to a showdown with Death Eaters, I would do it quickly, and he would die without suffering."

"You should have told me," murmured Lupin, his hold on Snape's hands tightening.

"I wanted to tell you what Albus had asked of me, but he was worried the plan might become known and his plans for me would be compromised. He placed me under a Fidelius ..."

The effect on Lupin was electric. His spine straightened and he glared in shock.

"That was Albus? Not Voldemort?" he hissed.

"It was Albus."

"Those times when you almost choked? It was _Albus_?"

Snape could see the revelation was sickening Lupin.

"I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" Lupin stood and began to pace. "I can't believe this! I could see how you suffered. I expected it of Voldemort. I never would ... I can't believe ..." Words failed Lupin as he stood still, one hand clutching his head again. He turned and looked at Snape again. "So when Albus died, that Fidelius was broken?"

Snape nodded. "But you were here that night. I had no chance to tell you myself – and I was put into hiding. I couldn't find a way to tell you. I wanted to! But, we'd been apart for so long by then ... I just didn't know how ..."

"No," said Lupin, his voice dangerous all of a sudden. "You can't gloss this part." Lupin's swung around, fixing Snape with a wolfish glare. "Why did you leave me? All that talk about being under cover – it was a lie, wasn't it?"

"Partly. I did spend far more time with the Dark Lord on Albus's orders, but ..." Snape found he didn't want to tell Lupin this – he knew he sounded so very weak. "After Bellatrix broke the Fidelius on our flat, Albus ordered me to leave you."

"And you agreed to that? Why would you agree to that?" Lupin barked, his hand in his hair again, as he paced.

"It is an ancient geas, Remus. As deep as an Unbreakable Vow."

"But _why_ would he ask it?"

"Because he said I was too bound up in you – that our relationship could risk everything he had planned – my place with the Dark Lord ... everything."

Lupin stopped again, staring at Snape.

"And you _agreed_?"

"No. I argued. I begged. I pleaded. He held my Vow, Remus. How could I deny him? And I was so afraid for you at that time. You nearly died! Everything seemed to conspire against us."

Snape continued, keeping his voice modulated, soothing Lupin with its even tone even as he told Lupin about how Bellatrix had had him followed, and the lies that Snape had told after she had broken the Fidelius. "To ensure she didn't endanger any other of my missions, the Dark Lord placed a Tracing Jinx on me so he would know where I was ..."

"Would a Tracing Jinx follow you under a Fidelius?" interrupted Lupin, horrified.

"It can't show the Dark Lord my actual location – but it would show him I was in a protected space. So if I stayed the night with you in a new flat with a new Fidelius -"

"- he would know," Lupin finished, aghast.

"Yes. He would know and Bellatrix's suspicions would be confirmed. I asked Albus to remove it, but he refused." Lupin didn't even try to hide his shock at Dumbledore's refusal. "He said it would arouse too much suspicion."

"So that's why you asked me to stay in the castle with you - to avoid this Jinx?" sighed Lupin, miserably, and Snape could see Lupin was piecing things together slowly but surely – his mind still keen – the quick and lively mind that Snape loved so well. "And it's why you didn't come to the new flat?" Snape nodded.

"Once the new Fidelius had been worked without me, then Albus banned me from Order meetings, our separation was ensured."

"I am the Secret Keeper and I gave Dumbledore your invitation to the flat. Didn't he give it to you?"

"No," said Snape quietly. "He didn't pass it on. I still don't know where you live."

Lupin didn't say anything, but Snape could see the anger etched in his expression, the jumping nerve, the tight lips.

"Albus said it would affect my Occlumency if anything happened to you – and he called upon my oath to leave you. I had to do it to keep you safe."

"From Death Eaters?"

"Yes, but also from me if I broke my oath?

Lupin's eyes narrowed in calculation.

"If you broke the oath, you'd die?"

"It's a geas – a soul oath. My soul would be forfeit on my death." Snape moved closer, desperate for Lupin to understand. "Remus, I'd forfeit my soul in an instant for you, but your soul is Bonded to mine – don't you see? How could I risk your soul as well as your life? I was trapped – the Bond – trapped me into complying ..."

"No," said Lupin, shaking his head slowly, "the Bond is not a trap."

"Don't you see? Nothing has ever been so dear to me as you are."

"Then how could you push me away? How could you leave me?"

"To keep you alive. To keep you safe," cried Snape.

"This isn't safe. This isn't alive. This is hell for me, Severus."

"I had to keep you safe," Snape pleaded. Why couldn't Lupin see the dangers? He couldn't be responsible for the death of his loved one again; he just couldn't!

"How is either one of us safe? We are at war! I can't be safe, any more than you can." Now Lupin swept towards Snape and grasped his shoulders, his eyes full of longing – and of frustration.

"What would you do to keep me safe, Severus?" asked Lupin. "Place me under a Freezing Charm and lock me away to look at? Pickle me in aspic, perhaps?" He squeezed Snape's shoulders as a sad smile touched Lupin's mouth. "Don't you see? We have to take the risk or have nothing at all. I told you once before, Severus – I could drown in your eyes, and die happy. Why would I want to live without you? What's the point in that?"

"But your soul! If I see you ... your soul, Remus!" whispered Snape, urgently, his black eyes desperately pleading with Lupin to understand the risk.

"I do not believe that our souls would be forfeit for this! I don't. I won't. Our Bond was sanctified by magic, Severus. By deep magic. No! My soul, Severus. My choice! In this life, and onwards."

Lupin wrapped his hand around the Circlet on Snape's arm once more.

"Have you heard Muggle wedding vows, Severus?" Lupin asked, his voice hushed, and Snape noticed the flush rising up his cheeks and knew then Lupin and Tonks had had a Muggle wedding. He felt a sickly stab in his stomach, but now was not the time for that. Before he could reply, Lupin continued, "The vow is 'for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; until death us do part.' It is like the Claim – meant to last a lifetime." Lupin exhaled heavily.

"This," he held the Circlet around Snape's arm. "This is greater than that. Death cannot part us if we are faithful in our hearts and souls – nor damnation, Severus. I Bonded with you for a reason – because I won't be parted from you – not even by death!

"But damnation, Remus? I need to keep you safe."

"What about what I need?" Lupin grasped Snape's body to himself. It was not a tender grasp, but one that was desperate and angry. "I can't do this anymore."

"But Remus, if you are alive, I can be ..."

"Be what? Happy? Content? Of course you can't. And do you think I can be happy or content knowing you're in the world without me? It's not your decision to make on your own, Severus!"

"If I'd told you the truth, you would've left me anyway. This way ... this way, you would be safe and -"

Lupin stopped the sentence with his mouth, a greedy kiss, possessive and full of yearning, his tongue searching Snape's mouth and finding the hunger returned. The kiss was like a drug – it overpowered Snape and all his reticence dissipated and his fingers snaked into Lupin's hair, holding his head to deepen and lengthen the demands of the kiss.

"No," whispered Lupin into Snape's mouth as they pulled breathlessly apart. "You are mine, Severus, with everything that means – the first mate of a werewolf. Mine!" Lupin's hands grasped at Snape's back, every touch flaming through Snape, overwhelming him, making Snape just want to give in – give up – acquiesce ...

"I Bonded to you, my soul to yours. For all time. I will take whatever comes our way, Severus. But I will not be parted from you because being parted is not love."

"You doubt I love you?" said Snape, blinking as he came to his senses.

"I did. When I was in the pits of despair that you'd left me – when I tried to send dreams to you but you shut me out – when I thought you'd murdered Albus! When Harry told me you had told Voldemort of the Prophecy." Lupin gulped, and then sighed as he spoke more slowly, his voice cracking. "When I pined as I waited for the moon – as I waited for you and you never came – moon after moon – and you never came."

"I watched every moon," said Snape quietly, as tears stung the backs of his eyes at the picture of Lupin pining for him. How he wished he could have been with him. "I wanted to be with you so much."

Lupin nodded, and stroked Snape's cheekbones with his fingers.

"But for every time I doubted or pined, or raged ... or wept - our Bond told me you were true. I believe you love me, Severus, and I understand that you tried to protect me, but we have to live our lives! You have to be bold. Be -"

"- be brave? Daring?" Snape sighed, trying not to sound hurt that he was in some way a coward.

"Daring? Yes. Brave? Do you think for one minute I don't think you're brave? There's none braver. But forget your Slytherin cunning. Sometimes there isn't a way around something. Sometimes, you have to grab it – with both hands."

Lupin held Snape's face in his hands, but he didn't grab – the hold was gentle and full of love. For the first time in months, Snape felt his whole body thrill to Lupin's touch.

"Love is touching your skin, kissing your lips, making you laugh and drying your tears. Holding you and knowing it is the best place – the only place – for me to be where I am truly happy. Deferring love is not love, Severus. Not tomorrow, not after the war." He kissed Snape's lips lightly. "Today. Now."

Snape moaned, his whole body wanted to give in and forget what he still had to say, forget that Lupin had married Tonks, forget everything but the two of them ... but he couldn't forget that the Bond of which Lupin boasted could see the destruction of Lupin's soul.

"You would run the risk to your soul to be with me?"

Lupin nestled his head against Snape's shoulder and then Snape heard a small chuckle as Lupin raised his head, a small smile – a genuine smile – forming, lightening Lupin's weary features.

"But, Severus, what do we know overrides even a blood bond?" Lupin looked at Snape expectantly, like a tutor with his apt pupil, his eyes flicking to Snape's forearm where the Dark Mark was carved in his flesh.

Snape's eyes followed Lupin, his eyes widening. _Could he be right?_ He looked at Lupin again, the ghost of a smile forming on Lupin's mouth broadening as he nodded at Snape's growing understanding.

"And why does it override it?" Lupin pressed on, Snape thinking inwardly exactly the next phrase Lupin said aloud: "Because deep magic recognises intention. Why should your soul be forfeit – and by extension, mine – because you fulfil your Bond with me? Being with me does not devalue your vow to Albus. It does not trespass on its parameters. I don't seek to take you away from your mission – but to assist you. Our Bond only makes us stronger. Together we _are_ stronger. No, Severus. In this, Albus was wrong – he never had a love like ours to understand.

"We Bonded," said Lupin, bringing Snape closer. "Old earth magic accepted our Bond. I don't believe your Vow to Albus can force you to break our Bond. Just as magic couldn't break Albus's vow. This is deep magic, Severus."

For the first time in months, Snape's heart leapt in hope. Could it be that he was right? And, if Lupin was prepared to forgive him, did they stand a chance?

"If you're wrong, Remus! I couldn't bear anything to happen to you ..."

"Courage, Severus! Sometimes, you must just dare. You must be brazen! I will risk it. Will you?"

"I would risk everything," murmured Snape, overwhelmed by Lupin's closeness, his attention swapping from Lupin's eyes to his lips. "But you must hear everything ... I need you to know now."

It was best to tell Lupin everything. Confess it all now. Better rejection now than forgiveness bestowed and then withdrawn. That would be too cruel.

They faced each other and Snape set out the litany of death and torture he had witnessed over the months they had been apart: the death of the Paige children; Legilimising so many others but anaesthetising their pain where he could; passing on information to Dumbledore, but seemingly unable to save so very many; the coerced murder by Alfred Markham of his own Muggle mistress, and then Markham's own death at the hands of the Dark Lord; and – of course - Charity.

Snape watched Lupin's face blanch as the tally of the tortured and the dead grew ever longer. With the last name, he saw tears shine in Lupin's eyes.

Still, Snape left out nothing. He told Lupin how he had kept the threat to the Light werewolf packs secret from him to prevent Lupin being sent away or offering to go.

Lupin began to speak but Snape held his hand up gently to Lupin's lips.

"I must finish ... all of it. Then you'll know the whole truth."

He told Lupin how he had almost forgotten his own Vow in his grief as Potter had taunted him as a coward as he fled from Hogwarts – how he had nearly killed the boy himself and was only stopped by the attack of a hippogriff. Each confession seemed to weigh Lupin down further, his distress easily read on his open features.

Snape stopped, his final confession weighing so heavily and yet he didn't know how to address it. It was Lupin who provided the opportunity.

"If you had told me, we could have found a way to be together," Lupin said. "I could have helped you to bear these things. I _would_ have helped you carry the weight."

Snape was silent for a long time as he held Lupin's hands, summoning his courage to himself.

"Albus knew one more thing ... there is one more secret. It is ... it is the very worst of me, Remus."

"Tell me then," Lupin whispered, his blue eyes filled with trepidation.

"Back when I first realised what the Prophecy meant, I begged the Dark Lord for Lily's life to be spared."

Lupin looked none the wiser. Snape didn't want to spell out his infamy, but the time was now.

He closed his eyes slowly – he didn't think he could look at Lupin when he told him this.

" _Only_ Lily's life."

Snape heard the sharp intake of breath, and opened his eyes once more. He had to face this.

"He could take your friend – and your friend's son – I did not care – as long as Lily was safe, you see."

The air in the ante-room suddenly pressed in on Snape.

"That is what Albus knew," Snape finished weakly.

Lupin's jaw worked and his head dropped into his hands and Snape desperately wished he knew what Lupin was thinking.

Lupin looked up, and oh! his eyes were so inexpressibly weary and sad. Snape wondered if Lupin was questioning how he had ever thought Snape worthy as a mate – or fitting as a parent.

"Do you think Lily would have let you near her if her family had died?" asked Lupin, incredulously.

"Oh, that was the craven wretch I _was_ , Remus! But not any more! You think I don't know that now? You think I wasn't sick to my stomach when I heard the same admission from Pettigrew about you?" Snape wanted to reach out to Lupin in shame and desperation, but he did not dare. "Please believe me I didn't seek to trap her or coerce her!"

Snape saw a flash of anguish light up Lupin's face – he thought he understood it and tried to reassure Lupin. "But saving her was all I could think of. My morality was wrong! I know that now. I just wanted to save her. I thought of nothing else! I know it was wrong – and every day I try to make amends."

Snape slumped, exhausted and miserable, on the bench next to Lupin, who stared at him, a hard, penetrative stare.

"Every day," repeated Lupin. "And Albus used this to keep us apart?"

"Yes. I said I would tell you – explain it to you. He told me you would never forgive me for it." Lupin covered his face with his hands, his whole body wracked with a groan. "And I suppose you can't," added Snape, his misery complete.

Snape stood suddenly and walked to the window and looked out over the grounds. The sun was setting. So much time had gone, and he and Lupin had barely noticed the day passing. The instruments around the ante-room ticked and whirred, some even chimed the passing time. Snape waited, the sanctity of his soul balanced on the edge of a knife.

"Every day," repeated Lupin, breaking the silence. Snape turned back from the window, his expression quizzical.

"Every day you try to atone. This thing ... and Severus, it _is_ an appalling thing for me to hear. You have confessed horrors to me before: death, torture, poison – shocking things. But I knew ... I could see ... I could _feel_ your remorse. I _knew_ it was real. This ... this is not worse than what you've told me before," said Lupin, and then he sighed. "It is just so much worse _for me_ to hear _._ Do you understand?"

Snape nodded, mutely. Of course he did. How could he not?

Lupin stood and walked to Snape, this time looping his arm around his waist and pulling him close. To Snape's shock, Lupin pressed a small kiss to Snape's lips and looked at him once more, his expression still sad.

"Albus trusted you. He believed in you and yet he used this terrible thing to keep us apart. Why?"

"To keep you safe ..."

"Rubbish! He never kept me safe! Or you for that matter! He never spared either of us if he required service from us." Lupin's expression softened. "It's you who wants to keep me safe."

"Yes."

"He had no right."

"He had my vow. He had the right."

"It was our decision – our choice – together - not his! My choice whether I forgive ..."

"And do you? Can you? Can you forgive me?"

Snape took a step back, as if waiting for the blow, a chill running over him.

Lupin looked at him, the blue eyes so full of hurt, the lines around them deeper as his face had been contorted in pain these past months. Perhaps it had.

Snape wanted to hold him and ease that pain, but he feared Lupin's answer – feared the rejection of his lies, his falseness, his duplicity.

"You should have told me."

"I was afraid."

"Of me?"

"Of your rejection of me."

"After all we'd been through, you still didn't trust me?" murmured Lupin, a note of incredulity returning to his already broken voice.

"I knew it was so very shameful. I knew I didn't deserve you. If you knew this then you would know what a poor choice you had made."

"So you kept silent."

"Yes."

"And Albus blackmailed you."

"Let's say, he secured my compliance."

Lupin tried to smile, but it was more of a grimace. "That's what happens with secrets," said Lupin. "I should know."

Then he sat on the bench and gestured to Snape to sit once more, next to him. Snape took the seat once more.

Snape fell silent. His throat suddenly raw with all the talking he had done. Why had he not thought to summon some drink for them? He Summoned Dumbledore's brandy from the drinks cabinet in the corner and some glasses. First, he cast _Augamenti_ as he was parched. He wondered if Lupin noticed the small tremor in his hand as he held the glass and drank the water greedily as Lupin downed the brandy, drawing in a breath over his teeth at the kick in the drink.

Of course, Lupin did notice. When Snape put down the glass, Lupin gently curled his fingers around Snape's – a gesture so mild that Snape felt his nervousness increase.

"Before, when you told me about Voldemort's excesses, it was as they happened. Now, it seems so huge ... so very many ..."

_He'll reject me now,_ Snape thought hopelessly. He raised his eyes to meet Lupin's sure he would see disgust there. But he saw that blue of warmth and love.

"I don't know how you've managed – all alone. Albus had no right to part us when you need me so."

Snape's breath stopped, as he stared at those loving blue eyes. Was he forgiven? Could it possibly be?

Lupin held out his palms to Snape, and Snape took Lupin's hands in his own and held them to his chest and closed his eyes.

"You have always forgiven me, even when I have been undeserving."

"You are never undeserving, Severus. All that you do – so unstintingly – how can you believe are undeserving?"

"These things – the Prophecy, my trying to save Lily - they are so personal to you, I didn't believe you could forgive me."

"Perhaps – had I not known what you put yourself through – what you have done for all these years, perhaps, I might not have been able to. But I know your heart, Severus. And my soul is Bonded to yours. You hold my soul, Severus – and I don't believe there is anyone more worthy."

Lupin kissed Snape's forehead lightly and then pressed his face into Snape's hands, that gesture he used to show his devotion. It always warmed Snape so greatly. He kissed Snape's hands and then regarded him once more.

"You have my forgiveness, Severus – but will you give me yours freely too?" Lupin asked Snape. Snape shivered involuntarily. He realised what must follow now.

"For your marriage to _her_?" asked Snape, trying desperately to keep his revulsion from his voice for this abominable thing. He had tried so desperately to avoid it so he could make Lupin understand what he had done without those recriminations, but now he had to face it.

Lupin closed his eyes as if stung, and nodded.

"You've told me your worst. Now you must hear mine." Lupin's voice was as dry as dust.

"Dora's pregnant, Severus – and she carries a werewolf."

* * *

**.**

**Next chapter: A Werewolf's Tale**

 


	105. The Werewolf's Tale

It felt as if ice coursed through Snape's veins, down his face, throughout his body to the very tips of his fingers and toes.

"Yours?" Snape rasped. "It's yours?"

Still clasping Snape's hands, Lupin nodded slowly, miserable and guilt-ridden.

The coldness melted as white-hot anger built in Snape's chest.

Snape snatched his hands away from Lupin's, and stood quickly, turning his back on him, his breathing harsh and fast. Of course, he knew – he knew they must have had sex if they were married but this … this …

"Severus ..."

"Shut up!" Snape spat viciously. "Don't say anything to me. You let me ramble on ... oh, how you must have enjoyed my guilt – revelled in it. How you must feel exonerated," he sneered, as his mind turned over in turmoil. "How can I ever reproach you now? But I do, Remus! I fucking do!"

"No Severus, please!" he heard Lupin cry, but all he could think was that Lupin had made Tonks pregnant.

Pregnant!

But he and Lupin had had plans. Dreams! Snape had had dreams. He had agreed to lie down for this man - to have his physiology altered by a Dark curse - just so they could have a child together.

He had agreed to sacrifice his reputation as a man to carry their child! Their family. Something of their very own. That was how much he loved Lupin.

And now this! This was how he was repaid.

Snape's mind flooded with rage – with jealousy – with shame – with hurt – all his relief at Lupin's forgiveness consumed.

How could Lupin have done this? How could he have cast their dream aside? And for what? Had it been revenge? How quickly had he impregnated her? How long had it been going on? No. No. No. The Bond would have broken if it was before their wedding. No!

Was it just easier with Tonks? He supposed it was _natural!_ Natural! It disgusted Snape. He hadn't felt such a surge of impending violence within himself for years – not since - not since that map back in their first year together.

Snape's wand might be Bonded, but his fists weren't! And at this moment, he wanted nothing more than to strike Lupin – hurt him as he himself was hurting.

He wanted to make Lupin bleed.

He could hear Lupin saying his name, but the blood rushing in his ears was louder as humiliation burned through him.

His fists clenched and unclenched and he screwed his eyes shut as he fought to quell the violent rage threatening to explode and drown them both in an orgy of violence.

He let out an anguished cry of denial as he raised his own fists and beat them against the wall, over and over again. He was not that man any more. He was _not_ his father!

"No!" he cried out again, only to find himself restrained as Lupin wrapped his arms over Snape's from behind him, saying his name.

"Please, Severus. Please hear me. I beg you." He felt a desperate kiss to the side of his head. He wanted to lean into it, but it enraged him too.

 _I am not that man! I am not that man!_ he told himself over and over, even as the sickness of hurt and betrayal thickened with each passing minute as he bent over the arms that held him, his emotional agony made manifest.

"How could you? Of all things? How could you?" he yelled, twisting in Lupin's arms trying to break free, but Lupin held him fast, his large hands pressing Snape's thrashing hands to his body, stronger than Snape, even in Snape's rage as he howled and thrashed until his legs gave out and both of them fell to the floor, kneeling.

Lupin still didn't release him, still whispering his name over and over again, as Snape tried to wrench himself free, over and over, until he began to tire and his twists became fewer and more half-hearted until, eventually, he stopped, his head bowed, his face hidden by his hair.

Snape's rage was spent, but his humiliation burned brightly, his mind's eye picturing the two of the together – planning the child – so easy for a spontaneous pregnancy for them, not like the purposeful ritual he and Lupin would have had to have undertaken. It burned inside him, eating him like acid.

"Your wolf must be delighted at your _natural_ choice!" he spat viciously as he knelt, restrained and exhausted, but knowing he still had a certain way to make Lupin _bleed_.

"Severus, don't!" Lupin hissed. "Please hear me out. I didn't want it. I promise you, I didn't."

"Liar!"

"I swear to you, Severus. It was always supposed to be you and me. Just you and me. That's all I ever wanted."

Lupin released Snape's hands carefully then placed his arms around Snape's shoulders loosely, cradling him, rocking him very slightly, his hands gently squeezing him.

Snape struggled to catch his breath and took gasp of air as he looked around himself, trying to calm – wanting to listen, and then flinching when he thought of _her_ with her gaudy pink hair, and bile rose in his throat again.

"Let me go," he said, his tone deadly.

"Severus ..."

Snape's back stiffened, but he did not answer. Very slowly, Lupin took his arms away and then he stood and backed away.

Snape inhaled, his eyes narrowed and he too got to his feet and spun to face Lupin. His anger and humiliation had set like a rock in his chest now.

"Shape shifters together, how _domestic_ of you," he said unkindly as he struggled to recover his equilibrium.

"Stop it, Severus."

"Stop what? Reminding you that you are with the shape shifter now, happily married, expecting a _happy_ event," Snape said, his lip curling, feigning disdain he did not feel, trying desperately to cover his own mortification.

"She has a name, Severus, and, no, I am not with her," Lupin said, feigning mildness he clearly did not feel, still not moving, watching Snape as if he were a dangerous animal.

" _She_ is the cub's mother," he sneered, knowing exactly how to wound Lupin.

"Damn you, Severus!" Lupin suddenly barked. "You sent me to her. I marked her as we agreed. I have not Claimed her. I could not ..."

"Do you not _bite_ her then at the full moon?" asked Snape nastily. Lupin flinched slightly.

"I haven't Claimed her fully, no," Lupin replied quietly, a flush of shame travelling up his neck again. Snape knew he was piercing Lupin's own insecurity, but at that moment, it was all he wanted to do.

"You _married_ her, Remus! Did you do that accidentally? Hmm?" Snape advanced, his eyes narrowed, his sneer in place – _wanting_ to lash out - sting Lupin as he was stung.

"It wasn't like that, Severus. Please."

"I won't listen to your excuses, you liar! How many times did you fuck her to make sure you could _breed_ the child you always wanted? Are you trying to tell me you hated it? You're a man, aren't you? You like fucking women as well as men."

"Stop it, Severus. Stop it, please," Lupin pleaded, tears welling in his eyes.

"Stop it? You dare tell me to stop it!" shouted Snape, as his hand found one of the small devices on a table nearby. His hand curled around it and he threw it at Lupin's head, snarling.

Lupin caught it easily, his eyes igniting with anger as well as pain. And just as Lupin was about to throw it back at Snape's head, he twisted his body so the missile flew past Snape harmlessly, breaking apart on impact, and Lupin slumped against the wall.

"You put me to her like ... like an _animal_ , Severus! Like a dog!" Lupin shouted and his strained voice broke. "And the only way to keep you safe was to stay with her at the moon. Do you think I am so shallow that I'd bind a woman I don't love to me for a lifetime? Do you think so very little of me?"

Lupin glared at Snape. "How dare you demand forgiveness from me for leaving me like that – and not share the consequences!"

Lupin's head fell back and he screwed his eyes shut.

"How is it that those who say they love me treat me like an animal to be done with as they please?" Lupin asked, his voice choked. "I didn't want you to leave me! I didn't ask you to palm me off onto Dora! I didn't ask to be drugged or Obliviated! I didn't want to marry her and I certainly didn't want a child with her! It seems to me that my spouses have no respect for what I want at all!" A sob broke Lupin's voice. "Perhaps, if one is a beast, one has no right to choose! Is that what it is, Severus? You? Dora? _Real_ human beings taking control of my life because I'm just a _beast_?"

Snape stood in stunned silence at the accusations. He could hardly deny he had handed Lupin's safe-keeping to Tonks when he handed her the balms – but not 'palmed him off' – never! Lupin wasn't an animal to be handed off. But as he looked at the man before him, he could see why it would look that way. And what did the other things Lupin said mean? Snape knew there was a Memory Charm – he'd felt it. Had there been Potions too?

Suddenly, the raw anguish Snape had felt at the news of the pregnancy was subsumed in anger and protectiveness of his own beloved husband – and he _would_ find out what had happened.

Then, Lupin's tenuous hold on his own composure crumbled and he slid down the wall, his hands pulling at his own hair and sobbing. Snape didn't doubt for one minute that Lupin's distress was real and, with all his vengefulness and spite drained away, he himself felt unsteady and unsure.

Snape approached Lupin softly and reached out one hand to touch Lupin tentatively. It was all that was needed. Lupin looked into Snape's face, his blue eyes wretched, and Snape knelt before him and grabbed Lupin to himself.

"I'm sorry, Remus. I'm so sorry," said Snape as Lupin buried his head in Snape's shoulder, clutching Snape to himself. "I didn't understand."

"I didn't want it, I swear. Not the wedding ... and certainly not ... oh God! A werewolf, Severus. The child will be a werewolf. You know I never would ... never ..." Lupin sobbed, his voice muffled by Snape's robes.

"You can't know ..." Snape crooned, now stroking Lupin's hair to calm him.

"Yes. Yes, I can. I do. I could smell it – at the last full moon. I smelt Dora was pregnant – and I could smell the wolf. It had changed inside her, even that early. She became sick and stayed sick throughout the night."

 _No!_ Snape remembered with startling clarity how sick he had felt during the night of the last full moon. He hadn't understood what it was – he had thought it was the third person in the Claim. But how would he feel that – why should he ...?

Suddenly, he remembered Alphard's letters talking of the connection between Alphard, Idris and Angharad. Surely not! Had that happened to them now? Merlin! He hoped not. He didn't want to share Lupin – form some kind of _pack_ with her. His mind revolted at the thought. He damn well wouldn't, but it could well be that they were now connected and _that_ , he had to address.

Snape rocked Lupin gently, murmuring reassurances to him, even as his mind raced to calculate what this could mean for himself – for Lupin – even for _her._ Gradually, Lupin calmed and turned his tear stained face to Snape.

"Severus ..."

"Come now," murmured Snape, and he helped Lupin to his feet. "Let's go to my quarters. You can rest there and we'll talk. You tell me everything, and I promise I'll listen." He kissed Lupin lightly. "I promise I will."

oooOOOooo

They took the Floo to Snape's quarters, and Snape helped Lupin to the settee. Lupin seemed to buckle into it. He not only looked weary and older, but thinner than before.

 _And he could certainly do with a bath,_ Snape thought as he wondered where Lupin had been, how long it had been since he'd eaten. He cursed himself inwardly for his inattention.

"Tippy!"

The house-elf appeared and gasped at the sight of both of them sitting on the settee and clasped her hands in delight.

"Professor Snape and Master Lupin! So good it is to see you together!" She bowed lowed and then looked up, still smiling, although Snape saw her look a little more closely at Lupin.

"Hello again Tippy," Lupin sighed. "It's good to see you again."

"Master Lupin!" She smiled broadly and then turned to Snape. "Shall Tippy bring a late supper, sir?" She looked at Lupin meaningfully. "Something hearty?"

"Yes, Tippy. Something hearty. Things you know Master Lupin enjoys."

"Including pudding?" she asked, with a hopeful bob of her head.

"Definitely pudding," said Snape. Lupin exhaled a soft laugh as Tippy bowed again and Disapparated.

"How long has it been since you last ate?" asked Snape as he leant over Lupin, looking at him properly for the first time as he raised his wand to cast diagnostic spells.

"It's all a bit of blur, Severus. I think a couple of days. I left Harry the day before yesterday and ..."

"Potter? What the hell were you doing with Potter?" Snape said, more sharply than he intended. If Snape thought Lupin couldn't look more wretched, he was wrong. "No, don't tell me now," Snape quickly relented as he continued to cast. "Perhaps tomorrow."

His spells showed him there had been Amortentia, but not recently, and far too much Dreamless Sleep. He already knew of the Memory Charm, but his diagnostic spells confirmed it. Quelling his anger, Snape placed his wand carefully on the side table and stroked Lupin's hair from his eyes.

"We'll eat first. Then, Remus, will you let me deal with the Memory Charm? It's broken, but not fully so it can't heal."

Lupin held Snape's wrist gently, a tiny smile forming.

"I trust you, Severus." Lupin's trembling hand reached out and placed Snape's wand back in his hand. "Do it now so I'm free of it."

Snape felt his throat constrict to hear Lupin voice his trust after how vicious Snape had just been, reminding him of Lupin's trust after the Mind Break. He felt a stab of mortification, but suppressed it. Snape smiled back and cast.

Ah! Lupin's mind, usually pacific and welcoming, was a morass of anguish and guilt, confusion and pain.

Snape travelled to the site of the Charm. It was like a knot – a tangle – the threads of which pulled at all manner of memories and emotions. Some of it had unravelled, broken when they had duelled over Moody's body. But enough of it remained to distort Lupin's memories and feelings, making him uncertain and labile.

The Dark Lord would break or tear open a Memory Charm, and he always used utmost violence when he wanted the truth hidden within the Charm. It was part of his enjoyment. Dumbledore, however, used skill and subtlety to unravel a Memory Charm. He did not cut or slice or shatter. Snape had learnt to do both from each of his masters, but it was Dumbledore's powerful healing castings that Snape now used, working patiently and gently, unworking the tangle strand by strand, releasing the mental stranglehold of the poorly cast Obliviation.

Snape knew that Aurors used Obliviation. Indeed, he knew many misused it on a routine basis, but he couldn't deny that he was surprised that Tonks had stooped so low to gain the man of her choice. _But then – she is a Black and sometimes blood will out_ , he thought bitterly.

He knew Lupin would tell Snape to be kinder to her, that her grief had dictated her actions, that the physicality of the Claim bite ensured the attraction was maintained. But Snape couldn't agree – this casting and Amortentia surely made it plain to him. Lupin was too kind – too trusting. He didn't know how low pure-bloods could stoop and Tonks's mother had probably taught her daughter all manner of arcane pure-blood magic, Snape was sure.

As Snape reached the heart of the knot, Lupin spoke in their mind connection.

_Oh, the foolish girl! I understand what she did now. Do you see it, Severus? Can you see?_

Snape could. The heart of the knot showed the lie - the misunderstanding they had both once assumed would be harmless – the one they had meant to correct, but fate had overtaken them both.

Tonks thought Lupin was mated to Sirius Black.

When she had Obliviated him, she had tried to expunge a mating that did not exist, leaving Lupin with partial memories which, combined with his existing distress at Snape's perceived abandonment of him, left Lupin uncomprehending and lost, confused and angry, mired in a misery he couldn't understand.

Between the wrong casting, the Bond, the Claim and a werewolf's resistance to mind magic fighting the Memory Charm constantly, knowing his mate lived, Lupin veered between denial, depression and grief, wearing away at the Charm.

 _We should have told her the truth,_ Lupin thought to Snape. How could he disagree?

Freed of the Charm, Snape could feel Lupin's mind begin to lighten, like the warmth of the sunshine after the oppression of a storm. The warmth of Lupin's love enveloped him as Lupin led Snape to the memory of the middle of a row, Lupin and Tonks facing each other, shouting at each other.

_"I don't understand, Remus. It's been over a year. Why can't you let him go?"_

_"Dora. You misunderstand. I've told you before. It isn't about Sirius. And you only feel this way because of what I have asked of you at the full moon. If it weren't for that, you wouldn't feel this way about me. Please don't. I'm too old for you. Too dangerous."_

_"Am I so unloveable, Remus?"_

_"It isn't that, Dora. I told you at the hospital ..."_

_"If you weren't still grieving for Sirius, we could have been together that night."_

_"Dora – there's nothing wrong with grief. You need to deal with yours. You know this is just rebounding from David. You need time ..."_

_"David's been dead longer than Sirius, Remus! We need to move on – you and me! We could be so good together, if you could just let yourself be free ..."_

_Tonks drew her wand, her jaw set and she cast ..._

Snape left Lupin's mind, angry once more.

"She is a foul woman," Snape muttered.

"She is misguided. Lonely. Depressed."

"Misguided?" Snape's eyes widened in incomprehension. "She dosed you with Amortentia! She Obliviated you! And badly at that! That's not misguided. It's criminal. She should be in Azkaban!"

"You know how powerful the bite is. It was too much to ask of her – but we did ask it of her – over and over again," Lupin said earnestly. "Without her, where would we be – you and I? We owe her, Severus! As much as I hate what she did to me, without her help, you might have been discovered! You might have died!"

A muscle flickered in Snape's jaw. It was true, but it galled him to admit that his safety back then had meant Lupin having to stay with that woman.

"What happened at the hospital?" he asked, deflecting from the ugly truth.

Lupin dragged a hand over his face, rasping across his stubble.

"On the night ... ah!" he sighed. "The night Albus died. She declared her love for me - in front of everyone – teachers, the Order ... God, even in front of the children - in the hospital wing. I could hardly breathe. It was as if everyone conspired against everything I wanted – Molly, Arthur, even Minerva. No-one would listen to me. And all I could think about was that Albus was dead ... the man who saw beyond my curse to give me an education – and my husband supposed to have murdered him. I just needed to be alone. To find you. Hunt you down if I had to! I wanted to kill you with my bare hands! I wanted to cradle you in my arms! I felt as if my mind would break apart. I left them and I searched the castle, even though I knew you'd left. I went to Spinner's End - to the farmhouse - even our flat."

"Our flat?" Snape blinked.

"Well, I considered it ours, even though you never came there. Not once."

"You know I couldn't," Snape said softly.

"I know now. I didn't then." Lupin placed his hands over Snape's. "When I finally got back to the flat though, Tonks was waiting for me. She apologised profusely. Presented a bottle of Firewhisky. 'To see the old boy off,' she said."

Snape felt his chest heave with offence. He knew where this would lead. Lupin looked up at Snape apologetically.

"It won't surprise you that I drank far too much. Before I knew it, I was plastered and Dora was telling how much she loved me. I let her. Then she was holding me, and kissing me. And I kissed her back. Not because I wanted her – but because I wanted to hurt you. Even as I was kissing her, I thought of you, that you deserved this because you had betrayed me and then – the Bond flamed."

"I felt it flare." Snape felt sick to the pit of his stomach, but he had seen himself how drink and grief was a combustible cocktail for Lupin.

Lupin's closed his eyes and nodded.

"I so nearly ... so nearly ... Oh Severus, I'm sorry." Lupin raked his hands through his hair, his face a picture of misery. "But then I knew. I almost cried out in front of her. And I told her I was sorry, but we'd never be together.

"And then I remember she topped up my glass from another phial. The aroma reminded me of you. I drank it. I think I wanted some kind of oblivion from the pain. Can you understand, Severus? Please?"

"I understand," murmured Snape, understanding far too well. "Was it Amortentia?"

"It must have been. She tried to make love to me again but I resisted because I knew then it would break the Bond and I didn't want our Bond broken, but my drugged self still wanted her so I told her – that we had to be married." Lupin laughed ruefully. "By the time the Potion wore off, she told everyone we were a couple, how delightfully old-fashioned I was insisting on marriage first. And she could morph once more."

"I saw her hair was pink at the funeral," muttered Snape.

"You were there?" Lupin gasped in shock. "If I'd known ..."

"Here," said Snape. "I was here. I watched from the window you made for me." He closed his eyes as he remembered. "I so wanted to speak to you ..."

"Oh Severus. I wish ... I so wish -"

Snape leant forward, holding the back of Lupin's head and kissed him. "So do I, Remus. So do I."

At that point, Tippy appeared laden with a huge tray and she set the table, crooning to her masters of her happiness and laid out many dishes, Lupin's favourites and Snape's. Lupin squeezed Snape's hands as they watched her.

Once they sat at the table and began to eat, it became apparent that neither man had realised how hungry he was and they ate ravenously, sitting side by side, relishing their meal for their togetherness more than the food itself before they fell to talking once more.

"So you knew, once the Bond had flamed. But what would have happened if you hadn't thought of me?"

"I suspect the Bond would have broken. It would have recognised if I no longer cared."

"But it's supposed to allow us to ... breed," said Snape, with some distaste.

"With a wife!" Lupin laughed sourly. "Not with a one-night stand. And that's where the Love Potion caused me to make such a mistake. Days later, I tried to put it right – to tell her it was a mistake. Oh Merlin! She was so upset. I did nothing but make it worse. You saw what happened then – she tried to Obliviate knowledge of my mate – but got it so badly wrong – Severus - it was like being stuck in a waking nightmare."

"Amortentia," murmured Snape, shaking his head. "It was defeated by the Bond, but in your Potion-induced enamoured state you recognised the loophole. Take Tonks as your wife and the Bond would not intervene."

"Deep magic recognises intention." Lupin smiled sadly. "For the Bond, there was no betrayal. After Dora Obliviated me, at first, I just felt so desperately confused and lost. Terribly alone. Something so integral to me – physically and emotionally – was missing. I ached for you, but I didn't know I did."

"I know," said Snape, staring at Lupin. "Your dreams ... the dreams you sent me ... they became disjointed and you didn't seem to know me in the last one."

"Then parts came back to me – just pieces – slowly coming together. The more I pieced together, the more disjointed it seemed. I knew I had a Claim, but the details eluded me. I knew I had the Bond, but in my mind you had betrayed me, not once, but several times. But despite that, I wanted you so badly. I didn't want anyone else.

"Then the wedding." The colour drained from Lupin's already pale face. "Most members of the Order were there."

"A Muggle ceremony?"

"So the Ministry wouldn't know," said Lupin, looking shamed.

Snape watched Lupin's expression as Lupin looked at his bowl of chocolate pudding intently. There were stricter werewolf laws already in place but Snape couldn't help but wonder if Andromeda had seen to the anonymity of her daughter's injudicious match. He said nothing, but he still had so many questions.

"I sent Wolfsbane."

Lupin eyebrows shot up. "You did? Dora told me she'd bought it. I wondered if you were producing for the local Apothecary. I recognised it."

"Tippy," said Snape with a proud smile. "She swapped them over. She said the one she replaced was inferior."

Lupin's smile broadened, but then faded.

"How did you find out about the wedding, Severus?"

"The Dark Lord announced it to humiliate Bellatrix and Narcissa," Snape said, his throat full again he remembered that feeling of falling into despair.

"Forgive me."

Such a simple request and uttered in such a small voice, and yet poignant.

"Yes, Remus. I understand it now." Snape curled his fingers around Lupin's hand, and squeezed it.

"Thank Merlin," whispered Lupin. "Oh thank Merlin." His eyes closed as if relief washed over him. As Snape watched him, he realised he still had to check Alphard's theory of the Claim's connection.

"There's something I have to check, Remus," said Snape, as he dabbed at his mouth with the napkin. "About the pregnancy. Wait here."

Leaving Lupin in the drawing room, Snape went to the hidden compartment in his bedroom and retrieved Alphard's letters. Flicking through them, he found the one he wanted – the one that explained how Angharad's child was related to Alphard, not by blood, but by the Claim that suffused both his and Angharad's blood – the Claim of Idris. Even if Lupin hadn't Claimed Tonks fully, his cursed genes made up that child just as surely as the Claim coursed through Snape's blood.

They were connected.

Snape knew now he had felt the sickness of the embryo changing. He pressed his fingers to his stomach, recalling the feeling. It was the first change. The embryo was barely formed. Surely, it would get much worse as time progressed. Why had Tonks not recalled the Electio Potion? After all, she had recommended Snape to Amelie and Jasper.

Snape rifled through the parchments faster, recalling comments Alphard had made about the full moon ... where were they? Parchment after parchment was discarded on the floor around him, and then he found it, his quick dark eyes darting across the page:

_... I have to conclude even as early as the embryonic stage, the Lycanthropic Curse is already active. Even the embryo changes so the werewolf mother's womb does not become a hostile place. That is how the curse works to propagate itself._

_'Foley on Werewolves' sets out two post-mortem reports on witches who were impregnated by werewolves. One died by the fifth full moon as the cursed foetus proved inimical to the mother; the other managed to last until the seventh full moon but both mother and baby suffered savagely in their passing. I have found no record of a werewolf foetus being born alive to a human mother, or of a human mother surviving the pregnancy._

_I have to say, Severus, your notes on the Electio Potion are astonishing – that such advanced skill was available back then. It's quite extraordinary ..._

Snape stopped reading as his hands dropped into his lap still holding the letter and he stared at the wall. He had told Alphard of the Electio Potion when they had been discussing the origins of the curse, but what Alphard told him – if Lupin knew this ...

Lupin was tearing himself apart with guilt already. If this happened – if Tonks died because of the child she carried being a werewolf, Snape was sure Lupin would never recover from the guilt.

No. Snape would not let that happen.

"Does Alphard confirm it, Severus? The child is a werewolf?" Lupin was standing in the doorway, watching Snape shrewdly.

Snape nodded, not wanting to admit how much worse it was than that.

"This is why my kind don't breed, Severus. My kind who don't want to make more werewolves."

"No," said Snape, his voice cracking, not wanting to reveal that it was doubtful such a child could be born alive. "But I think ... I think I can stop it."

Lupin closed his eyes as he looked down, sad and weary. "Do you mean termination? Dora wouldn't ... I couldn't ask her ..."

"No. That's not what I mean."

Lupin stared at him, uncomprehending.

Snape carefully rolled up the parchment and put it away so Lupin wouldn't see the terrible truth. Then Snape went to his bookshelves and hefted the ancient Formulary he had been given in payment by Amelie and Jasper two years ago from its shelf.

With great care, he placed the tome on the table, going straight to the leather marker he had placed at the Electio Potion. He gestured to Lupin to sit as he read avidly, a plan forming in his mind from all the permutations he had tried of the potion before he had perfected it for the young couple.

"If I calculate correctly, this must be taken during embryogenesis," explained Snape. "It will be too late by the time the foetus is developing in the second trimester." He leaned forward to Lupin. "Can you be sure of the conception date? Past the initial six weeks, there is less of a chance we can fix this."

"But doesn't it take three months to brew, Severus? It'll be too late."

Snape looked up at Lupin's hopeful face, and heaved a sigh. He smiled tightly and Summoned the lilac potion from the bathroom and placed it carefully on the table. Lupin's mouth dropped open.

"You already had some?"

"I kept some. It was for us. For John," Snape whispered, his eyes glittering.

Lupin blinked fast, but that didn't stop Snape noticing the tears that quickly coated Lupin's eye lashes.

"But ... but you can make more? When it's time ... time for us?" Lupin asked, his hand closing possessively on Snape's thigh. "Or have I lost the right to ask?" Lupin added, his eyes haunted as he looked at Snape.

"Of course," breathed Snape, fighting the emotion in his voice, smothering the question of whether it would happen now at all if this child was Lupin's first born son. Snape cleared his throat and squeezed Lupin's hand and steeled himself once more. They needed to do this – they needed to be focused and strong.

"Now, are you able to narrow down when conception was?" he asked gently.

"I know exactly," Lupin said quietly.

"How? You have been together for months ..."

"One night only, Severus. The wedding night. That's it." Lupin interrupted and then looked away, shame faced. "I have never allowed it to happen again. Only I didn't know ... I didn't know until the full moon what else had happened that night."

"The conception?" Lupin nodded. "But I don't understand _how_ it happened." Snape raised an eyebrow sardonically, and Lupin smiled weakly. "No, I mean - I was so sure I had used a contraceptive spell. I just could never risk it. I'm sure I used one."

Snape could neither hide his shock, nor the growing sense of calm that was beginning to fill him – in spite of his initial horror, he realised Lupin's horror was just as great, in many ways greater than his own. They had a unity of purpose and they _were_ stronger together.

"Perhaps she used a spell – an incantation of her own to override yours. I need to know the spell she cast to undo your contraceptive charm then I can add an incantation to the potion."

"If she did, I didn't hear it. But I remember I thought she was whispering."

Snape sighed heavily. He knew what he had to do – but it would take a stomach of iron to do it.

"Give me the memory and we'll look in the Pensieve."

Lupin reared away from Snape as if struck.

"Severus! No! I can't bear you to look at that!"

"Will you recognise the incantation if you see it on your own? Because I will. I'll just have to ignore you fucking her, won't I?" snapped Snape, wanting to get it over and done with.

"Don't, Severus." Lupin said, his eyes hurt.

It was Snape's turn to redden. If everything Lupin said was true, Snape's comments were as cruel as if Lupin taunted him for one of his abusive memories. Snape nodded.

"I'm sorry. But I need to see it. I can help, Remus."

Lupin bit his lip as his eyes begged Snape to think again, but Snape placed Lupin's wand in his hand, clasping it in his own, and nodded to encourage him.

Shakily, Lupin placed his wand to his temple and drew out a sliver of memory, wincing as if it stung with its retrieval, and dropped it into a phial Snape placed before him.

oooOOOooo

It wasn't a room Snape had ever seen before. He didn't know if this was at their new flat (he prayed it wasn't) or hers. The furniture was ordinary and modern. Absurdly, Snape thought it was hardly the boudoir of a witch aspiring to be a temptress.

He heard Tonks and Lupin murmuring but he Occluded to ignore the sound as he saw a door opening onto the bedroom. He peered in.

It was in a small en suite bathroom, plain tiles, fluffy pink towels – her clothes heaped on the floor. He leant forward on one knee to look at them – a white leather skirt, a spiked belt, some kind of tiered blouse, boots. Military boots with buckles and he sneered – was that really a wedding outfit? He comforted himself that she was crass and inelegant, even though he knew what he would find when he turned back to the bedroom.

But for now, he concentrated on the bathroom cabinet as he scanned the shelf – and then he saw it – a crystal quart bottle. A quart! She certainly planned ahead. Snape could see two measures had been used so far. So this night, and once before – just as Lupin had said.

Snape closed his eyes and steeled his nerve and walked through the open door into the bedroom. Deeply Occluded, he walked to the bed, stopping by the bedside cabinet and sniffing the goblet there.

Elf-made wine, laced with Amortentia. His nostrils flared delicately – so this is how Amortentia smelled to Lupin – male musk with a distinct note of cloves and lauric acid, parchment and ink. Snape closed his eyes and savoured it knowing that in this memory Amortentia smelt of himself. To Lupin, Snape was love.

Fortified by this, Snape braced himself to watch the coupling on the bed. He flinched as he looked towards the couple, and couldn't help how his stomach turned unpleasantly at the sight of her long legs draped over Lupin's legs as he curled his hips to push into her, or how he rested his head into the crook of her shoulder, her face in ecstasy, her hair the most obscene pink, like her cheeks and her swollen lips. Snape tried to curtail the nausea rising in his gorge but still he could not tear his eyes away from where their bodies joined, but he had to! He had to see the spell.

Snape's vision honed in on her face, seeing nothing but her lips and then he saw one of her hands find her wand. She had kept it nearby. He saw the wand movement: small, soft, surreptitious. He sneered. He recognised it as a pure-blood incantation where continuing the blood line was the purview of the woman to override any contraceptive spell cast by a man.

 _Hah!_ _Once a Black,_ he thought sourly watching the incantation form on her lips and repeated twice. There it was! A smile formed on her lips, her wand slipped away, as moans of joy formed in her throat.

Snape left the memory as quickly as he could before he heard any more that he thought would unhinge his mind.

Lupin was standing away, his back to the Pensieve, his shoulders tense and his breathing shallow. He was ashamed and Snape knew it. And yet, even knowing this, his jealousy gnawed at him and he could not look at the man who was his beloved and who Snape had just seen in the midst of carnality with another.

"I will get what I need," Snape said, trying to keep the edge from his voice. "Meet me back in my quarters." He saw Lupin's shoulders droop and he nodded and steepled his fingers over the bridge of his nose. Snape took the Floo to his office.

Only once he was out of the Floo did he let out a groan of misery. He knew what the Black family was capable of. Now, the barbarity of what had been done to Lupin shocked him.

He knew the way his husband made love. Even for the short period he had watched, he had seen the reticence in Lupin's movements, like a lover under the Imperius Curse and Tonks the puppeteer. Lupin had hidden his face in her shoulder – but when Lupin and Snape made love, he always looked at Snape – he never took his eyes from Snape. Snape drew his hand across his face as he realised something else: Lupin had been silent. Snape sat heavily at his desk. Lupin was not a silent lover: he was vocal, almost pornographically so sometimes. Snape loved how Lupin would say his name, encourage him, tell him how he loved him ... _oh dear heaven, what I have done?_

Snape it was who had taught NEWT students of the immorality of Amortentia, who last year had taught defence against the Dark application of mind magic – and yet he had pushed Lupin towards a woman who had used both against him – and then he had blamed his own husband for falling prey to them. He snorted with disgust at himself: he had once performed mind magic on Lupin that was no different – that was, in fact, the Darkest and cruellest of mind carvings. He covered his face with his hands as he breathed deeply to control himself. Lupin was right: Snape had to share the consequences.

Once calm, he procured what he needed from his stores including a small brass cauldron and returned to his quarters, giving himself enough time to calm himself physically.

When he returned, Lupin was standing in the bedroom by the window, looking out over the misty lake. He didn't say a word. Snape felt his heart clench, but he set up his cauldron and burner, stirrers and ingredients in the drawing room, then returned and watched Lupin's back for a short time. Eventually, he spoke.

"I will be able to make your son safe."

Lupin's head hung, but Snape did not see the expression on Lupin's face to know whether it was relief or not.

"You ..." Lupin started, but his voice caught and he restarted, "you are going to alter the original potion?"

"Yes," said Snape. "It was a conception potion to be taken ..." Snape found his own voice catching now as he remembered how he had day-dreamed of lying down for Lupin to use ancient werewolf magic once they had used the potion now sitting on the desk. He would have welcomed it - and borne their son for them - their son John.

He coughed as tears stung in his eyes and he turned so he could not see Lupin any longer.

"I recognised the incantation she used. It won't counteract the Potion with the correct counter-incantation."

Snape referred to the Formulary once more and then made some calculations on the parchment, intent upon his task as Lupin re-joined him.

Snape unstoppered the crystal phial and emptied the opalescent lilac potion into the small cauldron and set it to a low heat.

"I'll add certain ingredients to this to make this a post-conception potion. It's still early enough for it to be effective." He knew he was babbling, but he couldn't bear the silence between them. He turned suddenly so see Lupin looking at him, his expression one of sad rejection. Snape bit his lip.

"Your son will be a shape-shifter like his mother. That's the way the potion works. I brewed it to pick the bearer's ..." His voice nearly gave way, but he mastered it as he corrected himself, "... the mother's basic genetic code so it would not pick up the curse. He'll look like you though." Snape felt his own body soften to see the upset on Lupin's face. "It's what we agreed, after all," Snape finished weakly.

Lupin moved quickly to him and wrapped him in a tight embrace.

"No, we didn't," Lupin whispered, his hand splayed on Snape's cheek. "I said I wanted our son to look like you." And then he kissed Snape fully on the mouth, a lingering kiss that spoke of longing. Snape responded and the kiss became passionate as Snape drew his fingers through Lupin's hair, and their bodies moulded to each other in the way Snape knew at that moment with utter certainty that Tonks's never could.

Still his. Snape knew then: Lupin was still his. He felt warmth flood through him and he broke the kiss.

"The Potion, Remus!" breathed Snape. "I must tend to it."

Snape re-set the burner, and Lupin sat next to him watching every deft movement in the preparation and addition of ingredients and then the chanting of the incantation. Snape felt absurdly accomplished as Lupin's eyes never left him. And when the Potion was set to brewing and Snape stood away from the cauldron, Lupin pulled Snape to his lap and rested his head against Snape's chest.

"How long?"

"Eighteen hours to brew," said Snape, carding Lupin's hair. "Seven o'clock tomorrow evening," he said, checking his clock and casting an alarm spell to check the brew. "Time to sleep perhaps," he added, feeling the heaviness of Lupin resting against him.

"I've only been able to sleep with Dreamless Sleep for so long," said Lupin. "It would be nice to sleep without it."

"I've been the same," said Snape, a light gasp escaping his lips as Lupin drew him closer still.

"I think I'll sleep tonight," whispered Lupin.

Snape smiled a small, soft smile and murmured, "Me too."

Whenever they had made up before, there had always been fervent sex, as if their lives depended upon it. Now, it was almost as if this time the injuries were so deep, only the gentlest touch could heal them.

They lay down together, facing each other and brushed each each other's faces carefully, stroking each other's hair and then they kissed. It was soft and tender, like their hands on each other's arms and back. These were touches of reassurance and devotion, gentle and soothing. Both men seemed to understand that anything more would be too soon – taking too much for granted.

It was as if they had both been stripped raw and they needed to armour themselves in each other's love once more – step by step.

And as they held each other, Snape understood that they had betrayed each other even as they desperately tried to save each other – and yet each had been true.

The enormity of it stunned him, making Lupin's gentle embrace of him seem like a wonderful miracle. More would take time, time for them both to adjust to the things each had done, things that felt like violations of trust.

Snape knew he had been genuine in wanting to keep Lupin safe, just as Lupin had been, but they loved each other and Snape was more sure of that than he had been of anything else in his life.

With a small frisson of pleasure, he realised that Lupin was sleeping in his arms and Snape watched Lupin's face, peaceful in sleep, with a sweet smile crimping the corners of his lips as he nestled against Snape, enveloping him in his strong arms.

No. Tonks could think what she liked. She could even call herself Madam Lupin for all Snape cared. But Lupin was his - and Snape would never relinquish him again.

 

 

* * *

**.**

**Next chapter: Our heroes tell their stories and so begin to plan.**


	106. The Formulation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes from Chapter 11 of DH are copyright J.K. Rowling

As Snape had watched Lupin sleep, he had soon drifted into his own dreamless oblivion. The sun was high in the sky when he awoke to Lupin watching him instead.

"Good afternoon, Severus," murmured Lupin softly, drawing the backs of his fingers down his cheek.

"Afternoon? Already?" Snape stretched out like a cat, more relaxed than he had been for months.

"We slept the morning away." Lupin smiled gently. "I certainly needed it."

"So did I," Snape nodded as he sat up. Lupin leant over and picked up the twin photograph frame from Snape's bedside cabinet.

"Oh Severus," murmured Lupin, looking between the pictures of himself and Lily and then he looked back at Snape, his eyes full of compassion. "You've borne so much on your own."

Snape's chest constricted. He found it hard to breathe having Lupin's love so unconditionally once more and, as Lupin replaced the photograph frame, Snape leant forward and kissed Lupin gently, receiving the sweetest smile in return.

The spell of the moment was broken as Tippy clattered into the bedroom with a tray of tea and served it to the two amused men.

"Tippy shall run a bath, yes?" she said, wrinkling her nose melodramatically, with a pointed look at Lupin.

Lupin snorted softly as Snape raised an eyebrow at her cheek. She was unrepentant and held her beribboned head higher.

"The bath will be ready in five minutes. Tippy will have breakfast ready afterwards." Tippy smiled, more impishly than elfishly, in Snape's opinion.

"I think my personal hygiene may be more lacking than a house-elf can bear," laughed Lupin as Tippy left the room, impervious to Snape's glare.

"You've been more fragrant, it's true" scoffed Snape, although the thick masculine odour surrounding Lupin just made his presence in Snape's bed – in his life – once more all the more real. Snape found he didn't mind and kissed Lupin's shoulder lightly. Lupin smiled and kissed Snape back. "Where have you been?"

Lupin exhaled heavily and Snape held Lupin's hand to encourage him to speak. Snape wanted to know everything – there were to be no more secrets between them. Besides which, he wanted every detail of Tonks's treachery – 'know thine enemy,' as the Muggles would say.

"I left Dora over a week ago. It had all been building up. The werewolf restrictions came in because of Greyback's targeting of children." Lupin gulped. "As if I weren't ashamed of what I am already ... of creating another werewolf, even without violence." Snape squeezed Lupin's hand again and received a small sad smile. "Ted asked Dora and me to move in with them – he thought it would be safety in numbers – and of course I could get no work. It won't be long before Dora will have to leave the Auror office. So I agreed so Dora would have her parents – some security. Even then, I knew I couldn't stay.

"Then - after Little Whinging and our duel – knowing that you were true, every day more of my memories were coming back to me and I knew the marriage was sham, I became more and more aware of what had been done to me and yet I didn't dare leave ... I didn't know what was real and what were lies ..." Lupin sighed again.

"Then the Ministry fell, most of the Order members' houses were raided – all their Fidelius Charms broken by Ministry officials or Death Eaters with Ministry sanction. Dora and I were at Bill and Fleur's wedding at the Burrow – we were all interrogated by Death Eaters – all they wanted was Harry."

"He got away though, with Weasley and Granger. The Dark Lord was furious. Were you hurt?" interrupted Snape.

"They were ... enthusiastic, shall we say. A few of us were put under the Cruciatus ..."

"No!" Snape sat up straighter, his hands flying to Lupin's arms as if they would find traces of the curse still present.

"Don't worry – not for long. There were so many people at the Burrow who hadn't managed to Disapparate before the Death Eaters came, they would have been outnumbered if they'd gone too far. But those in their own homes suffered more. Bellatrix and Rodolphus interrogated Andromeda and Ted with the Cruciatus. She hurt them, but they were more upset that she vowed she would kill Dora for the shame brought on the family by marrying me. It would be funny if it weren't so hurtful."

"You can't care what Bellatrix thinks ..."

"No, you misunderstand, Severus. It's what Andromeda thinks as well ..."

"What? What do you mean?"

"Andromeda thinks exactly the same as Bellatrix. She hates me. She must have told me a thousand times that I'm not a fit person to bring a child into the world. Merlin, Andromeda has made sure she lets me know _exactly_ what she and Ted think of my 'defiling' her daughter with a potential werewolf. She rants about the Lydiard Curse being responsible for my being in their lives – ruining their daughter – who can never now be clean."

"Oh? And what of David?" fumed Snape. "Has he been expunged from history?"

"Just further proof of the Curse, as far as she's concerned. She said she was pleased he had died – had hoped that was the end of it – but then, she said I had _sniffed_ Dora out _._ "

"How dare she? Her daughter pursued you! Positively stalked you!"

Lupin's chest heaved with a sigh of misery.

"And then Harry's birthday party proved it! We had to flee like thieves in the night because a Ministry official was there – we had to run away because I am a werewolf. When we returned home ... _home!_ " Lupin snorted. "That ... _woman!_ "

"Show me," said Snape, when  
he realised Lupin could barely speak because he was so angry. Lupin nodded and Snape cast -

_Legilimens!_

Andromeda stood, as beautiful as Bellatrix had once been and, as far as Lupin was concerned, as cold as Narcissa, her eyes narrowing as she glared at Lupin.

"So that's to be our daughter's life from now on, is it? A scion of the House of Black: running from those who used to respect her?" She pointed at Tonks's stomach. "This child would be a thousand times better off without you. Isn't it bad enough that Nymphadora is a half-blood and a shape-shifter? We've come to terms with that. But a werewolf?" she said, a sneer marring her fine features. "A _werewolf_ as a husband and father. It's a disgrace."

"Dromeda!" Ted said, clearly upset by his wife's speech. She was unmoved, even as her daughter growled angrily that her mother had no right – none at all to speak to her husband that way.

 _Ted is decent, but he really doesn't understand, does he?_ Lupin thought to Snape. _A Muggle-born with their romantic notions of the Noble Savage. Muggle-borns think a werewolf is as free in the Wizarding society as a wizard. They don't understand that a werewolf isn't even considered human. A werewolf_ isn't _human under Wizarding law. We're beasts. Dark creatures. Our evidence is less reliable than a child in a legal case. The worst Death Easter would be believed before a werewolf._

"No, Nymphadora! It is you and your half-breed who have no right!" Andromeda said scornfully. "No right at all."

Tonks began to cry but it was Ted who moved to comfort her. Lupin stood at the door, and Snape felt Lupin's feelings: the object of scorn and hatred, feeling shame scald under his skin. It was every nightmare Lupin had ever had. He was dirt. He was foul. He was disgusting. He had ruined her life. He had sullied his unborn child.

He was a predator.

"You would do that by-blow a favour if you died," hissed Andromeda. Even as Snape's anger boiled inside him, somehow Lupin soothed him in his mind.

 _Ah, Severus._ Lupin's inner voice was sad and weary and yet Snape felt his love too. _You would never have let me listen to that, I know. You would have protected me from it. When we talked of our child, our son John, I took your strength and belief in me for granted. Never once did I doubt that you and I would be good parents to our child - that my Lycanthropy would be bearable as long as I had you on my side._

 _I would have hexed her mouth shut,_ Snape fumed. _Perhaps permanently. Blacks are nothing but pureblood bile and prejudice. She is like her putrid aunt! I thought Andromeda was different. I assumed because she married a Muggle-born that she was different._

 _I think we all assumed the same ..._ Lupin sighed inwardly. _With all the darkness, the uncertainty, wouldn't my absence from my child's life be only a good thing? After that, it didn't take much to convince myself that leaving Dora and the child was the very best I could do for everyone. She had what she wanted. And I left. Left her to what she wanted even though she cried out after me. Left, like a craven coward._ Even in Lupin's own mind, his voice became small and shamed. _You must be so ashamed of me._

_No! You didn't want it – the marriage – the child. Why should you stay? Why should she trick you and you feel obliged to stay?"_

_Because I_ am _responsible, and the child is my responsibility – and I shouldn't have run._

Snape hated the feeling of the self-disgust and shame Lupin felt. He wanted to scrub it from Lupin's mind. But he also felt Lupin's love for him, the reassurance that Lupin took from Snape's love and how it fortified him, and it made Snape surer than ever that to be parted would be the very worst thing for both of them.

 _So I left,_ Lupin continued. _Andromeda ridiculing me as I shut the front door ..._

Snape saw Lupin leave the house in the leafy suburb of Barnes, seeing, as Lupin saw with his heightened night vision, a masked Death Eater in the shadows watching the house.

_You see him? Who is it?_

_It's Rodolphus. I dare say he's doing his wife's dirty work. Where did you go?_

_At first, I wasn't sure where to go. I made sure, however, the Death Eater – Rodolphus – followed me. At least I could get him away from their house._

Snape left Lupin's mind quickly in surprise.

"Why should you care?" he challenged. Lupin looked startled at the rapid withdrawal from his mind.

"Why would I give Bellatrix what she wants? Why should I allow her or her vile husband anywhere near my child – even if he is ... is a werewolf?"

Snape placed a placating hand on Lupin's arm. He would not add to the opprobrium that Lupin had had to bear. He had to tread carefully. They had only just been reunited and Snape didn't want to risk that by challenging Lupin too roughly.

"I didn't mean anything against the child." Snape stroked Lupin's face gently, tucking his hair behind his ear. "I was just surprised after what had been said to you. You know I don't have your patience." Lupin leant against Snape and Snape rubbed his cheek against Lupin's hair, slowly understanding the damage to Lupin's self-esteem was so much more extensive than Snape had realised.

A break, some relaxation – that's what Lupin needed and Snape led Lupin to the bathroom. They bathed together, saying very little, but cleansing each other carefully and lovingly. It was almost ritualistic in its thoroughness and care – as if washing away their transgressions against each other. Then they lay in the water together, reheated by a Charm.

Lupin pressed a lock of Snape's hair to his nose.

"I love the way your hair smells after a bath, Severus. Before your potions get to it. Is that coconut? There's more to it than that though."

Snape smiled. "The base of it is lauric acid – coconut oil. And cloves." Snape brushed Lupin's cheek, not wanting to say that he smelt like Amortentia but he kissed him just the same for the sorely-needed affirmation of what he seen in the Pensieve.

Snape wanted to deepen the kiss, but his instinct told him not to push too far. He felt a twinge of frustration. Seeing Lupin naked, smelling clean and fresh, feeling him in his arms and under his hands, having missed him so very much over these months, Snape very much wanted to make love, for them become one once more.

It was more than just a sexual need – although Merlin knew, Snape desired Lupin at that moment as much as he ever had. No, it was more: physically, Snape _needed_ to feel Lupin, every part of him; emotionally, he needed union with him – to demonstrate what he already knew - their perfect symmetry, physical and emotional. He wanted it so much, it hurt him inside.

But he subdued his passion, even though he knew the moon would begin to wax that night. Snape, of all people, understood what being used and abused felt like. He would know when it was time.

Only once they had eaten breakfast together, and Snape could see that Lupin had settled again did Snape encourage Lupin to pick up his story once more.

"I went to all manner of places. I deliberately didn't Disapparate so he would follow me - Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley – visited shops, pubs – then on to Hogsmeade. I went to see Aberforth at the Hog's Head. Stayed there that night. Made some arrangements with Aberforth to try to keep those opposed to Voldemort linked and pass on news where we could. Picked up the Prophet where I could. I sent letters to Kingsley and Bill to try to get news and I needed to form a plan for myself – do what I could to help since I'd messed up so terribly."

Snape was about to protest again, but Lupin calmed him this time with a smile that told Snape that he was merely recalling rather than berating himself. Lupin rubbed Snape's hand slowly.

"It was then I thought of Harry."

"What of him?" Snape frowned.

"Whatever his mission is. Do you know?"

What could Snape say? 'I know his mission will result in him dying and being brought back by some miracle?' He was certainly not going to tell Lupin that.

"Albus would never tell me," said Snape, as honestly as he could. "I only ever told Albus information. It wasn't a reciprocal arrangement. What do you know of this – this mission?"

"All I know is that Albus told us that Harry is critical; that he is our best hope to defeat Voldemort and that we must trust him."

Snape snorted and rolled his eyes. It made the boy sound like a great wizard like Dumbledore himself, and yet Snape knew the boy was far from that: he certainly possessed an inordinate amount of luck, but certainly not power or talent. He bit his tongue not to say so, but Lupin smiled indulgently as if he knew.

"Once I decided I needed to get to Harry to be of any use at all, it took me a couple of days to shake off Rodolphus and then I went to Grimmauld Place -"

"They're there?" Snape suddenly realised how easily he could have been caught when he went there for the photograph.

"It's being watched by another couple of your lot, but yes, shortly after the Burrow was attacked. They went to London first – nearly got caught – I have no idea how the Death Eaters found them ..."

"I do," Snape interrupted, remembering the torture of Dolohov and Rowle, and suddenly realising how close the children and indeed the both of them had come to capture, just sitting here, talking. "I think I do. The Dark Lord had the Ministry place a Taboo Curse on his name. It is precisely there to trap members of the Order, and people like Potter. When next you leave, you must not say his name."

Lupin's eyes widened at the realisation.

"But I _have been_ saying it ... how is it safe here?"

"For a start, there's Albus's portrait who will say the name repeatedly. I realised this when we were first told of the Taboo, and I persuaded the Dark Lord that sending Death Eaters after a portrait would be a waste of resources."

"So, every time I've said the name ..."

"... the Death Eaters believe Albus's portrait is particularly talkative ..." A smile quirked at the corners of Snape's mouth although he could see Lupin thinking furiously. "Of course, once the other members of staff come back, they will not overlook it."

"I must warn the others, Severus! _Expecto Patronum!_ " Three Patronuses leapt from Lupin's wand, and he sent them on to Kingsley, Arthur and Daedalus with dire warnings about the Taboo Curse and to pass on the message as quickly as possible to everyone who spoke the Dark Lord's name, including taking the message to the Tonks household. Snape wondered what the recipients would think of that but then he dismissed that from his mind as he watched the silver wolf forms depart and felt a surge of warmth through his body to see that Patronus form once more.

Lupin was almost breathless after passing on this information. "Dear Merlin!" he said under his breath. "I wonder how many others have been trapped by this." Lupin drew his palm over his clean shaven face. "Harry was lucky to escape."

"Yes, he was. Albus was foolish to encourage children to say the Dark Lord's name ..."

"You can't mean that ..."

"Yes, I do, Remus. It's one thing for a wizard of the skill of Albus Dumbledore to say his name, even for adult members of the Order, but encouraging children was foolish – I always told him so." Snape pulled up the sleeve of his bathrobe to display his Dark Mark to Lupin. "That curse is worked into this – it marked out the traitors to the Dark Lord or those who would challenge him – last time, and now this – Albus knew this. Now, the Dark Lord has the Ministry to cast his net wider and all people need to do is to be circumspect – that isn't cowardice – it's survival."

Lupin nodded with resignation. "You're right, Severus."

It seemed as if everything that Lupin discovered, or that he was telling Snape, chipped away at Lupin's certainties. It disturbed Snape more than he had realised: Lupin was the one who always tried to be positive – tried to find the best in everyone – the best in bad situations. It was clear to Snape now that these past months had undermined Lupin's faith in everything he thought he knew. Snape didn't want that – he wanted the man he Bonded with back. He had to draw this poison from Lupin and he could tell by Lupin's reticence that whatever had happened with Potter had been the final straw.

"I take it your offer to help Potter didn't go to plan," said Snape carefully.

"It was a disaster," said Lupin quietly, looking at his hands. He drew a deep breath and then placed Snape's wand in his hand again. "I think ... this would be easier for me," said Lupin with a weak smile.

Snape nodded, saying nothing on seeing how Lupin's eyes became glassy, knowing Lupin was steeling himself to show Snape this.

_Legilimens._

Lupin Apparated precisely to the front door step of Grimmauld Place. Snape could see Dolohov and Rabastan Lestrange loitering in the square opposite. Lupin let himself in and, after identifying himself, was greeted with such affection from each of the teenagers that Snape felt his jealousy rear inside him, even as he heard Lupin ask,

**'No sign of Severus, then?'**

Even then, Lupin was seeking him. That fact dampened Snape's jealousy and he listened as Lupin told the three adolescents how the world seemingly conspired against them, and watched how they struggled to understand the machinations of a world at war as Lupin showed Potter the veiled accusations and innuendo against him in _The Daily Prophet,_ explained the Muggle-born Register, what would happen at Hogwarts and the new Blood Status rules.

It was then that Lupin asked Potter about his mission, and Snape felt Lupin's shame beginning to burn again as the recollection unfolded.

_I thought that, if I could help the three of them, I could at least be useful ... I needed to redeem myself. Maybe – at least – I could protect my friend's son. But then ..._

**'Remus,' said Hermione tentatively, 'is everything all right ... you know ... between you and -'**

**'Everything is fine, thank you,' said Lupin pointedly.**

And Lupin told them briefly that Tonks was pregnant and listened as they congratulated him so profusely, steeling his resolve to ask the question.

**'So ... do you accept my offer? Will three become four? I cannot believe that Dumbledore would have disapproved, he appointed me your Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, after all. And I must tell you that I believe that we are facing magic many of us have never encountered or imagined.'**

The tension in the room was palpable, and Snape could see Potter's face was like granite.

 **'Just – just to be clear,** Potter **said. 'You want to leave Tonks at her parents' house and come away with us?'**

 _Damned child, to think you'd consider this some kind of adventure!_ snapped Snape, but he could feel from Lupin's reaction that this meeting would now go from bad to worse.

 **'She'll be perfectly safe there, they'll look after her,' said Lupin** , repressing his own urge to confess the truth of their sham marriage – it wasn't detail for these children **.**

Snape prowled around the memory, never taking his eyes from Lupin, listening to how he glossed over the lies and manipulations of Tonks, and yet tried to make them understand the depth of his distress – of what the child might suffer in the future. Snape watched with growing horror as his husband seemed to unravel before his eyes.

_Why didn't you tell him the truth of the child's conception, Remus? Or how you are unwelcome in that house? How your mother-in-law slanders you. Insults you! How your wife stood with her father, not her husband? They seem to think they have the right to know!_

_What could I say? The children idolise Dora ..._

_They idolise you!_

_I'm sure that's not true. And if it was – it isn't now._

_Remus!_ Snape hissed angrily. _Let her save her own reputation! Why should yours suffer?_

From thereon in, it only got worse. The brat threw hurtful accusations at Lupin, filling him with mortification. Even the other two children tried to reign in their friend, but failed. Snape felt so helpless, understanding now – finally understanding because he could feel what Lupin was feeling –the depth of Lupin's despair at Lupin's life going wrong in every possible way as all his fears – passing on his Lycanthropy, rejection by Snape, hatred, being despised by those he cared for – were all heaped on his head. What Snape could feel was that Lupin now felt himself every bit as loathsome as Wizardkind had always professed him to be.

And then, as Potter compounded his insults, Snape felt Lupin's tenuous hold on his temper break and **Lupin drew his wand so fast that** Potter **hard barely reach for his own; there was a loud bang** as Lupin cast a wordless Repulsion Hex slamming Potter **into the kitchen wall and** he **slid to the floor.**

Lupin's guts churned with grief at the recollection as his memory self fled from Grimmauld Place.

_I even hurt Harry. What kind of man does all this make me, Severus?_

Snape withdrew, placed his wand carefully on the table and then he picked up Lupin's hands in his own.

"One who has limits. Even you have your limits, Remus. And you'd been pushed to them – by Tonks – her parents -" Snape swallowed, his dark eyes never leaving Lupin's. "- By me," he admitted, his voice almost giving out at the admission. "We wrought this on you, Remus. Potter just nudged you over the edge."

"I'll never forgive myself." Lupin screwed his eyes shut. Snape moved closed and embraced him, murmuring to him.

"You will. And Potter will. You'll see."

"Thank you, Severus," breathed Lupin, nuzzling into Snape's shoulder, drawing on Snape's strength, strength and patience that surprised Snape himself as he dug within his own depths to bring them both through these trials.

Lupin finally sat up once more and gave Snape a rueful smile.

"So, everything was as grim as it could be," he continued. "I wondered if perhaps I was wrong about the Bond too. It was all I had left. I had to know if – if there was anything to salvage. So I came here ... "

"And now you know."

"We _both_ know – for better or worse." Lupin sighed.

"Where would you have gone if I had not been true?" asked Snape. Snape did not asked _what_ Lupin would have done _to_ Snape. He was fairly sure the wolf would not have let him go, but he put that thought aside. It didn't matter to them - not now.

"I'd barely formulated any plans. If I couldn't find you or you'd rejected me, the only thing I could think of was to go to Snowdon – join Idris and his pack. Perhaps Alphard might be able to help me with the child." Lupin shrugged. "I just didn't know."

Snape wrapped his arms around Lupin. He knew this admission cost Lupin. Lupin had never wanted to be part of a pack, even that of Idris, the most civilised of all packs. To Lupin, it would mean he had failed at being a wizard. Snape kissed him.

"I don't reject you, Remus. I couldn't if my life depended on it."

"Even though I married her ..."

"Even though." Snape kissed him again. "Now you know the truth, what will you do?"

Lupin raked his hand through his hair. "If I were not a werewolf, I could try for an annulment on the grounds of deceit and coercion, I suppose. But I am, and who will believe a werewolf over an Auror?"

"You think the corruption of the Auror Office isn't known?" Snape questioned incredulously. "That people assume Aurors are whiter than white?" scoffed Snape.

"I'm sure it's known to those of us who've had cause to suffer from it ..."

"You and Moody were great friends. And Shacklebolt too."

"Yes," Lupin nodded. "But most Aurors would hex me as soon as look at me. I'm only a beast, after all. Alastor and Kingsley were exceptions. They met me through Albus. And Dora ... well." Lupin's voice trailed away.

"Now the Dark Lord controls the Ministry, it is probably now all the more corrupt."

"Can you imagine anyone taking any complaint from me seriously, Severus? In this climate?"

Snape huffed an angry breath but he nodded. "So, she gets away with it. Drugging you, scrambling your memories, coercing you..." Snape stopped at the distressed look in Lupin's eyes, and suddenly recognised the anguish he had seen yesterday when Snape had confessed requesting Lily from the Dark Lord. He suppressed a groan. What must Lupin have thought? But Snape would never have coerced Lily – never!

Snape knew what coercion meant – all those years when he was young and he had suffered those terrors, even giving in because it was easier, less painful. No, he never would have inflicted that. And now, his own husband, to have been so manipulated, so used. Snape wanted retribution, but he felt his complicity keenly. He should never have allowed her the opportunity to weaken Lupin, to take advantage of his kind nature so thoroughly.

"And," said Lupin, heavily, "let's not forget the child. Can you imagine the opprobrium? A werewolf impregnating an Auror – a scion of the House of Black - with his werewolf spawn? I can't even imagine how the purebloods would use that against all wolfkind. Azkaban for me. For that child ..."

"Well, that child isn't going to be a werewolf, Remus. This Potion will work, I promise you," Snape averred.

"I have every faith in you, Severus," said Lupin. "But when it does, that child's life will be forever tainted by my affliction."

"It is not your fault, Remus," said Snape, stressing every word. "We'll make sure your son is safe. This child may not be mine, Remus. But he will be yours so his welfare is _my_ business."

Lupin looked up, surprised at Snape's tone. Snape got up from the table and strode to the bedroom, opened the secret compartment and found what he was looking for: the photograph album from Spinner's End.

Snape brought the album through, opened it and placed it before Lupin who looked at the photo of Snape when he was a year old, chubby with a crooked smile.

"When I first saw this photo, I wondered when I had stopped smiling – how young I was." He looked at the photo again and knew the answer as if the photo spoke to him: "I know now. It was when my father rejected me and my mother, with violence."

"Do you believe I would ..."

"Not for one minute. But you could let yourself be driven away, and that child will still bear that weight of the rejection." Snape interlaced his fingers with Lupin's. "I won't let that happen, Remus. I won't let them do that to you and your child."

The depth of Snape's feeling about this surprised even himself. Was this the Claim, or was it his own deeply jealous possessiveness of everything to do with Lupin?

He led Lupin over to the cauldron where the altered Potion still slowly steeped and he and Lupin stared at it. Snape realised with startling clarity that he would now be helping to conceive this child: that part that would not be werewolf, but a Remus-like boy. This child was part of Lupin, and Snape loved Lupin beyond anything. Tonks would soon find out just how very much Snape loved Lupin.

"Severus," said Lupin, looking pensive. "When I give her this potion ... surely, it may prompt her memory. Your cover must be maintained. What can I do?"

Snape jaw worked as this sunk in. Of course, Lupin was right. And if hell had no fury like a woman scorned, what would a Black woman do on finding out the man she had compromised herself so fully for was Bonded to a man in such a precarious position as Snape? It wasn't even up for question that she would betray him in an instant.

An idea came to him, but he knew Lupin wouldn't like it.

"Albus put me under a Fidelius for his death. We could work a Fidelius on her."

Lupin shook his head. "Albus had no right to do that to you. I'm not sure I'll ever forgive him ..."

"Are you worried about _her feelings_?" clipped Snape jealously.

"No, Severus. But if we start behaving like that, how are we different? If we start spouting rhetoric about the greater good, how can we feel aggrieved about Albus's interference? Because I am, Severus. I still am! We wouldn't be having to plan this at all if he hadn't done that to us ..."

Snape nodded. Lupin was right; of course he was, but too much was stake.

"But a Fidelius is a good idea," agreed Lupin. "Dora just needs to consent. If we can explain how necessary this potion is - get her to agree then you should be the Secret Keeper, Severus. It's your identity we need to protect. Tonks will never be able to give the secret up, even if she wants to."

Snape didn't even doubt that Tonks would want to when she found out how deluded she had been. But then, he realised what else this would mean.

"If I am to be Secret Keeper then ... I must cast the Charm. You want me to go with you to see her?"

Lupin regarded him seriously.

"It has to be you. That's the safest way."

Snape couldn't deny that a thrill coursed through him to confront the woman who had debased his husband with spells and potions or the secret pleasure he derived from Lupin wanting Snape to accompany him. He wouldn't have wanted Lupin to see her alone but had assumed that it would have to be that way. Yes, indeed, they were stronger together.

"So we beard the lion in its den?" asked Snape, leaning over the cauldron to check the brew.

"Or the badger in its sett." Lupin stood behind him, draping his arms around Snape's waist and resting his chin on Snape's shoulder. Snape felt the warmth of Lupin's body pressed against his back, and it made his insides heat.

"Vicious creatures when they're cornered, badgers," Snape said. "But then - so are snakes."

 

* * *

 

 


	107. An Interlude for Love Renewed

Snape had tended to the Potion and left it to steep once more as Lupin looked out of the enchanted window in the bedroom.

"I see Hagrid," called out Lupin. "He's going to the Dark Forest."

Snape joined Lupin and they watched Hagrid trudge into the trees, Fang bounding along with him.

"He'll do his rounds in the forest and then he'll go to Albus's tomb and clean it – even though it has the strongest Impervious Charms on it so that it will never deteriorate. He does it every day. I suppose it comforts him."

"Poor Hagrid." Lupin wrapped his arm around Snape's waist. Snape relished the weight of it against him.

"Yes, poor Hagrid. I suppose Albus was all he had. Well, at least, he now has his brother to care for. Strange that should happen – that he should find his brother when he was sent away by Albus."

Lupin turned to look at him. "Yes. Strange. Do you think we have time to go for a walk together before he returns?"

Snape smiled. He could forget how much Lupin loved the fresh air, the grounds of Hogwarts; how he liked just to walk and 'take the air'.

"Yes, I think we have time."

So, both Disillusioned, they left the castle where Filch might lurk around any corner and walked leisurely towards the Lake. As they walked, taking vast intakes of fresh air, savouring the sharpness of the air around the Lake, they talked and Lupin held Snape's hand.

Snape remembered how Lupin had told him that holding hands was not negotiable all those years ago. And now, Snape couldn't imagine how he had ever flinched from being so demonstrative, wishing only he could be more so, more often.

It was only a matter of days now before the staff returned to Hogwarts. Snape would have to meet with them, bear the weight of their opprobrium whilst trying to put together a curriculum that suited the Dark Lord but trying to run the school in a way that would protect the students without the Carrows suspecting. It would be fraught and trying, but Snape would have to find a way through. It gave him a lightness of heart that Lupin would now be there to help him navigate what was to come.

Of course, they still had to find a way for Lupin to stay with him. Could he stay in Snape's quarters? Snape was confident that Potter would not return to Hogwarts at the start of term, but he couldn't be confident that he would never look at that blasted map!

They walked and talked of the ambulant nature of ancient Wizarding architecture and Cartography Charms and they sat on the bank of the Lake together as Lupin recounted again how he and his friends had constructed the map, layer upon layer of complex charms.

"Is there any way we can counter-charm my quarters so your presence here is undiscovered?"

Lupin considered. "The Homonculous Charm's the one that enables the map reader to track the movements of every person in the castle, except in the Room of Requirement."

"Because the Room itself is Unplottable?" asked Snape.

"I think it is because the Room is Unknowable. It dispels Charms so none can hinder its changes. After all, Hogwarts herself is Unplottable, but we managed to charm it."

Snape nodded as he looked up at the castle, looking at her anew after so many years within her walls.

"So the Charm attaches to the people, not the place?"

"Partly. We had to enchant the castle and the grounds to pick up the people and use all manner of charms to identify the person and the place, but essentially, I think the tracking charm's the one we need."

"So, the counter-charm should attach to you then - so you cannot be tracked on that map?"

"I suppose so. I'm one of the original Casters, and you have the power of the Headmaster to place and lift enchantments on the castle – that must give extra weight to any counter-charm."

Snape lifted an eyebrow and a small smile began to form that was almost mischievous.

"As Headmaster, could I disable that map entirely?"

"Oh, I dare say you could, with time and patience," Lupin replied with a cheeky smile of his own. "It took the four of us five years to finish the map – do you have the time to spare to unravel each charm in each place?"

Snape shook his head, with a snort of laughter, and Lupin draped his arm over Snape's shoulder, pulling him towards himself.

"Let Harry have his memento, Severus," he murmured, and Snape could feel the smile on Lupin's lips and then he pressed a kiss to Snape's hair. Snape nodded. As long as he could remove Lupin from detection, why should he care?

Snape sighed as they kissed like young lovers by the Lake. He so wanted to have these last few days of freedom with Lupin. Yes, they had to try to deal with many things, including the pregnancy, but Snape had waited months – five long and lonely months – to be with Lupin. Even walking around the Lake and sitting together on its banks with light summer breezes brushing their faces, as gentle as Lupin's kisses, were paradise to Snape.

The perfect moment was broken as a gleaming silver form bounded towards them. Lupin shot to his feet as the lynx halted before it, and Shacklebolt's voice came from it.

"Remus, I said the name. They're after me! I'll be in touch as soon as I can. Let the others know."

oooOOOooo

Messages had been sent by Patronus and by owl.

Lupin was clearly shaken that Shacklebolt of all people had so nearly been captured and was on the run. It was a grievous loss to the Order to lose such a senior Auror within Magical Law Enforcement to warn them in advance of raids and orders.

Tonks was only a junior Auror and, now she was pregnant, her parents were anxious for her to leave for she would surely be targeted by the blood purists for her marriage as well as her Muggle-born father.

Such information as they could procure now would be from their few members in the more prosaic departments. They would be lucky if there was much of use. Information was the life's blood of any resistance, it now it looked as if it would be cut off.

Snape made his decision swiftly. It would be a risk, but if he could not trust Lupin, there was no-one he could trust.

"I can at least pass on what I know, but it's more likely to be high level than ground level and immediate. And of course, you and I will have to filter it so it's not apparent that it comes from me. You cannot let anyone in the Order know how you come by the information. You could claim spies from the running wolves, maybe. How much use that will be to you ..."

Lupin clasped Snape's shoulder, his blue eyes bright.

"Thank you, Severus! I'll not jeopardise your safety so we must take care."

Snape smiled at Lupin's earnest expression.

"Don't worry, Remus. Espionage is _my_ speciality, after all."

oooOOOOooo

For the last half an hour of the brew, Snape tended the _Electio_ Potion, stirring carefully, watching for the minute changes in colour and consistency that would indicate success. Lupin watched intently at his side. As the colour tipped from lilac to lavender to lightest mauve, and the aroma shifted subtly, Snape extinguished the burner and cast a Cooling Charm. Then he re-bottled the Potion in a crystal phial and placed it in between them.

"I can't go with you to the Tonkses' house," said Snape.

"I understand you don't want to ..."

"No, Remus, I _can't._ The Jinx ..."

"Oh." Lupin frowned and Snape saw a flash of distress, quickly suppressed. Lupin did not want to meet Tonks on his own, that was clear. "The Hog's Head then. I could ask her there and book a room with Aberforth so we can speak privately."

"What will that seem like, you booking a room?"

Lupin sat, and Snape moved behind him to massage his shoulders. Lupin's shoulders were knotted with anxiety.

"Then I must ask her to bring her parents – one or both. A family conference."

Snape exhaled heavily. "All three?"

"Maybe, it's for the best. They will all be caught by the Fidelius then."

Snape kneaded a particularly hard knot as a smile quirked the corner of his mouth.

"That's really quite Slytherin of you."

"It is?" Lupin turned to look at Snape.

"Of course. By having the Tonks family under Fidelius to our secret, they will know of the provenance of the information you bring, vouching for its veracity without the concomitant danger of my discovery." Snape smirked. "You planned this, obviously."

Lupin gave a hoarse laugh as his eyebrows shot up. "I'm clearly not so Slytherin!"

They both occasionally looked at the phial, words unspoken about what the phial could have been for them. Now was not the time, but Snape hoped that one day that time would come. Lupin picked up the phial and turned it around delicately.

"Severus ..." Lupin swallowed, a flush rising up neck. "Things may be said at this meeting. Intimate things. About the Claim. Us. Dora."

Snape cupped his hand over Lupin's, loathing the shame he saw in Lupin's face, but knowing in his heart of hearts he might hear things that would sorely test his tightly restrained temper. His desire for vengeance was sharp, but vengeance wasn't justice. He needed to be careful and, above all, strong for Lupin.

"I have no doubt I will hear things I could live my whole life without knowing. But we're in this together, Remus. I won't let her drive a wedge between us. Not now."

Lupin nodded and Snape returned his hands to Lupin's shoulders.

"We need to make Dora understand how important it is that she agrees to this – the Charm – the Potion."

"Oh, I know something that'll make her understand all right," hissed Snape.

"What do you mean?"

Snape stopped massaging Lupin and sat next to him and held his hand. Snape couldn't not tell Lupin, not when he was sure Tonks would need an additional incentive to agree to the Fidelius.

"There's more to a werewolf and human pregnancy than I first told you." He pressed on quickly seeing worry reflected in Lupin's gaze. "In Alphard's letters, he told me that a human mother cannot carry a werewolf foetus to term because the transformations will eventually -"

"- kill her?" interjected Lupin in a horrified whisper. Snape nodded. "Oh dear God," Lupin rasped, covering his face with one hand.

"Remus. Listen to me," said Snape gently, holding his shoulder. "The Potion will fix it. I promise you."

Lupin turned swiftly, folding Snape in a strong embrace.

"You did that for me. Made that sacrifice to save me! Oh Severus!" Lupin littered Snape's face with desperate kisses. "I'm so sorry."

Snape returned the embrace just as fiercely.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Remus. I won't have you suffer this guilt because of what that woman did to you!" Snape held Lupin's face, and kissed him fully. "If she weren't pregnant, I'd hex her to oblivion."

Lupin gave a weak smile and rested his head on Snape's shoulder. The hurt he still felt in Lupin made Snape so angry. He wanted Lupin to be angry too. He hated this guilt and the way it weakened Lupin's resolve and self-esteem.

"Why aren't you angrier, Remus? Why don't you want to hex her to oblivion too?"

"I am angry. But how can I deny how I contributed to the mess I'm in. I wanted to keep you safe at the full moon. How else could I do it? If I didn't mark her, how could I do it?" There was a desperate note in Lupin's voice. It chilled Snape to hear it. "I saw how bereaved she was. Even when I could see she had an unhealthy attraction to me, still I allowed her in. I couldn't see an alternative that would keep you safe. It was so ... so very selfish of me."

"Then it was selfish of _us_."                               

"Of _me_. It's my curse."

Snape suppressed his frustration and made his tone as measured and calm as he could.

"No, Remus. This has to stop. If this had happened to me – if I had been drugged and Obliviated, what would you do? Would you expect me to feel guilty? To forgive the person who did that to me?"

"No!" Lupin barked, his pupils dilating with anger. "If someone had touched you, I would have ... would have ..." Lupin's struggle with his possessive anger was visible and yet, to Snape's shock, Lupin quelled it, his face a mask of misery. "You know what I would have done. Because I am an animal."

"You are not an animal, Remus," Snape said, his own voice low.

"I am. A Dark Creature. And it _is_ all my fault. If I hadn't allowed the beast in me to Claim you, I wouldn't have left you vulnerable at the moon. Dora would have had time to come to terms with her grief without me as a constant reminder. I - _am -_ responsible."

Snape shouldn't argue with the logic, no matter how skewed it was – it was the logic he himself had used about the Prophecy, irrespective that he had not cast the Killing Curse against the Potters himself. But just as Lupin had argued with Snape's logic, Snape would argue with Lupin's.

Snape grabbed Lupin's shoulders this time, finding the continued guilt almost unbearable to witness. Snape adored the Claim – how it made him Lupin's – he didn't consider it bestial at all, but it was a part of Lupin – a part of them – what they were to each other. He'd be damned if he let Lupin sink in the despair to which he'd been driven. Somehow, Snape had to make him see they were the same men as they ever were - to each other, at least.

He kissed Lupin, holding his dear face, savouring the taste and the feel of him, wishing they had the time to console each other, to make each other whole again, but they had to deal with Tonks and the child. Every day that passed meant the situation became more parlous for mother and child – and Snape couldn't see Lupin ever recovering if his Lycanthropy killed them both.

Snape broke the kiss, and stroked Lupin's face, realising how little faith he had in Tonks and her family. How could he have after what he had seen?

"Perhaps we should both cast the Fidelius," said Snape, dropping his hands.

"Both? Why?"

"If I die, the Secret vests in all of you. If we are both Secret-Keepers and I die, they cannot use the secret against you publicly. Never underestimate, Remus, the public opprobrium that you would endure. A Dark Creature bonded to a Death Eater." The irony wasn't lost on Snape how he had once found that notion romantic. "Your liberty, even your life, would be at risk."

"I think I can imagine," said Lupin mournfully. "Can we cast as two?"

"Yes, I believe so. We have a unity of purpose so we have to ensure we use the same casting on the same parameters."

They worked on the wording of the Fidelius together, practising the incantation together so when the time came the casting would be swift and efficient.

Satisfied with their work, Lupin sent an owl to Tonks. He held Snape's hand as they watched the owl swoop away from the Owlery. So much depended on this.

oooOOOooo

Morning came and with it, a terse response from Tonks agreeing that the three of them would meet him to discuss next steps that afternoon.

They had bathed and breakfasted, but Lupin was quiet and pensive.

For Snape, the time was now.

Every time they had kissed over these few days they had been reunited, Snape had felt the passion in his lover ignite – and then he had felt Lupin subdue his own desire. Lupin's self-hatred had reached new lows and he despised his own desires, blaming them for the crisis they now found themselves in.

Lupin had always been so physically confident, so ardent a lover. But this guilt consumed Lupin's passion – this guilt that he had brought the situation on them with his werewolfism – the same werewolfism that fuelled his passion. If Snape allowed it to carry on, it would be a self-perpetuating, downward cycle, he was sure.

Snape himself was feeling fraught, and his own desires would not rest. He didn't want to argue with Lupin: nothing could kill passion more, but oh! he wanted him. He wanted him so badly. He wanted to show him how loved he was – that they were still the same, even if circumstances around them had changed.

As he opened his wardrobe, he realised exactly how he could get Lupin to react to him. Perhaps it was a low trick – it was certainly very Slytherin – but Snape didn't want to wait any longer – in fact, he was sure it would be detrimental to do so.

He pulled out the robe he'd been looking for and dressed carefully, smoothing down the expensive wool as Lupin came in from the bathroom. As Lupin picked up his clothes Tippy had laundered for him, his eyes fell on the black robe on Snape's form. He frowned. Snape could tell Lupin had noticed that it was a very well tailored robe, with fine silver embroidery.

Lupin moved over to Snape and his hand hovered over the robe. Snape saw Lupin's nostrils flare slightly and Snape knew – Lupin's sense of smell could pick it up, no matter how many times it had been laundered. Lupin looked at Snape, his eyes hard and angry.

"Malfoy's robe? Why do you have his robe?" Snape could hear that Lupin was trying to suppress a snarl, provoked exactly as Snape wanted him provoked, as he scrunched the material in his hand.

"It's not what it seems, Remus," said Snape carefully. "Narcissa gave me the robe because mine was torn. Lucius ..." Lupin scowled at the mention of the name. "He was still in Azkaban. My robe was torn by a hippogriff as I left Hogwarts." Snape moved closer – provocatively close, knowing Lupin would now not be able to ignore the underlying scent. Lupin's jaw worked as his fingers worked in the fabric.

Snape knew under any other circumstances, Lupin would have grasped Snape to himself jealously. Snape wanted him to do that now. Snape's hand held the Bonding Circlet around Lupin's arm and then he drew down his hand down to clasp Lupin's hand and Lupin pulled him close.

"You wear his clothes." Lupin's eyes became hooded.

"Yes."

"Smelling of him." Lupin inhaled deeply, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

"Not that I can smell."

"But I can." Lupin's body now pressed against Snape: it was hot and hard against him.

"Get rid of the smell then, Remus. Wipe it away from me," Snape said, his eyes half closing with want.

"Don't!" growled Lupin, even as his strong hands clasped Snape's back. "Don't call to the beast in me."

"You are not a beast," murmured Snape smoothly, as their mouths were centimetres apart and he held Lupin firmly, demanding his attention. "I'm calling to the man."

Snape knew he did call to the beast. He called to the beast because the beast would take what the _man_ wanted; the beast would not feel revulsion or disgust; it would not build insurmountable barriers of guilt between them. Snape called to the beast to crash through those barriers.

He pulled Lupin to himself and kissed him as passionately and hard as he ever had in avowal, hearing a moan of misery and desire mixed escape from Lupin's throat as they kissed. And even as they kissed, Snape unbuttoned his own robe enough to expose his neck. He placed Lupin's hand on the bite, hearing an even deeper moan as Lupin broke the kiss and trailed his lips across Snape's neck down to the bite, nuzzling and scenting it.

"Not for one minute, do I regret being Claimed, Remus," Snape said softly, thrills shooting down his body as the soft touch of Lupin's lips to his marked flesh, his own hands stroking Lupin's back, knowing the bite's mesmeric effect was irresistible to Lupin.

Snape could feel the tension growing in Lupin's body, the tension that signified desire, building ever brighter. Snape wanted to give into it very badly – his whole body screamed for it even as Lupin clasped the back of Snape's neck as he kissed and licked it, stoking both men's desire. Snape knew if Lupin bit, they would both be lost in each other in that instant.

_Let's be lost then,_ Snape thought deliriously, as his own fingers quickly moved to undo the fastenings on the robe. But he didn't finish quickly enough and Lupin growled as he tore the rest of the robe apart, pushing it off Snape's shoulders and from Snape's body, wanting Malfoy's robe off him.

A small smile spread on Snape's face as Lupin stripped him, his blue eyes stormy with passion.

He took Snape by the shoulders and kissed him deeply. Every sense and nerve that had ever been innervated by Lupin's touch fired in remembrance and Snape felt himself drenched in hot, thick desire so intense he thought his groin and gut would explode. He kissed Lupin back, grabbing the back of his head.

As Lupin growled, "My Severus," to his ear, thrilling the nerves in his neck, Snape's mind began to reel, his whole body was aflame as he joined in with trembling hands to divest Lupin of his bathrobe. Lupin staked his Claim again, harshly on his neck and shoulders and chest. Naked at last, Lupin held Snape to him, trapping their erections together, as one arm held Snape at the small of his back and the other hand held onto his hair and Snape grasped Lupin's backside. They kissed bruisingly hard and desperately, sucking at the other's tongue – months of banked, searing lust, bursting out unleashed and uncontrollable, all other considerations wiped from their minds.

Lupin lifted Snape back onto the bed, pushing his hand between Snape's legs as he did so, his impatience to feel that part of Snape he was so desperate to enter written over his face, Snape's body trembling with anticipation. Snape could barely breathe in his own desire and a hoarse cry of impending release tore from deep in his throat as Lupin hooked his fingers into him, pulsing him hard over and over again sending waves of sheer pleasure coursing through him until Snape begged for him. Then Lupin pushed in devastatingly slowly, repeating his name in tones hoarse from desire, Snape begging Lupin to fill him as he wrapped his legs high above Lupin's waist.

Lupin grasped Snape's hips and thrust into him and Snape bucked back. They ground against each other as hard and deep as they could. Snape almost howled in pleasure too long denied, and Lupin cried out Snape's name over again as they pitched their hips at each other, with desperate desire but not wanting it to finish. Lupin wrapped Snape's own hand around his cock to pace with them. Every time they started to feel their orgasms mount, one or other would slow so they could attenuate their hot and fervent desire and keep it simmering, then build it again. They kept torturing themselves to the brink, until their bodies could bear no more and, of one mind, they bucked as hard and fast as they could, dripping with sweat, and encouraging each other with their hoarse cries of ecstasy until Lupin came fiercely after Snape, collapsing onto him, both of them struggling to breathe.

They lay like this in silence for a long time, kissing softly, holding hands as their bodies calmed, knowing this was about those things unspoken: forgiveness, love, affirmation and renewal. What could be said that hadn't already, or would improve the deep understanding the men had of each other right at this moment? Snape had wanted this so badly, and the fierce passion of Lupin's showed him that Lupin had wanted him too.

Shame had imprisoned Lupin and Snape had freed him, physically at least. If this painful separation had taught Snape anything it was that there was no place for shame in this relationship - for either of them.

Now, Snape's body was spent, his mind calm and his heart full as Lupin leant over him, dusky eyes soft with love drinking in the smouldering coal-bright black eyes. It was what Snape had wanted, and seeing that look – the look he _knew_ Tonks had never received - was precisely what he needed to strengthen him against what was to come.

_I could drown in those eyes and die happy,_ Lupin had said. The intensity of the look in those eyes told Snape it was still true.

* * *

**Next chapter: Interview with the Tonkses.**

 

 


	108. A Black Reckoning

Snape and Lupin had laid in bed for hours after, Lupin stroking and kissing Snape, re-acquainting himself with every inch of Snape's body. Snape relished every touch, in his mind reinforcing their Bond, and pushing away the sham marriage. If they were to see Tonks, Snape wanted to feel Lupin's hands and lips on his body even as he looked at her. He would know how Lupin wanted to caress him and how Lupin hadn't wanted _her_ touch.

"I'm sorry we have to go out," Lupin murmured, holding Snape tighter, scenting even his skin, seeming to soak his senses in everything that was Snape.

"As am I, but we have to."

Lupin kissed Snape's mouth. "Yes. We do. And I'm sorry ..."

Snape kissed him back to silence him. As far as Snape was concerned, the sooner they saw her, the sooner they would return – return to this bed for as long as Snape could keep them both there.

They bathed together and seemed to wash and even dress in synchronised movements, each fitting, buttoning and smoothing down the other's robe, helping on boots and belts, hands deft but caring, unified once more.

Snape could sense Lupin's concern about what was to come as Lupin picked up the phial and stowed it carefully in his robe.

"I will be right by your side, Remus. Whatever is said, I know the truth."

oooOOOooo

Lupin and Snape had arrived at The Hog's Head first, Snape under a Disillusionment Charm so Aberforth wouldn't know he was there. Lupin took a private room upstairs. If Aberforth thought it was odd, he said nothing. Snape was relieved it was not the same room in which Dumbledore had interviewed Sybil Trelawney all those years ago.

They had agreed that Lupin would do the talking, but Snape warned Lupin he would intervene if he thought it necessary. Lupin didn't demur, but squeezed Snape's hand in thanks, as they stood together and waited.

Snape heard the footsteps on the stairs first. He Disillusioned himself once more and sank back into the shadows.

Ted entered the room, giving Lupin a nod and a strained smile.

"Ted," Lupin nodded.

Ted held the door and Andromeda swept in, imperious as ever, and Tonks followed, looking peaky, her hair palest pink, but her eyes darted around the room, alert and still in Auror mode. The four took the chairs around the table, Ted pouring from the pitcher of Butterbeer into four glasses on the sideboard, more for something to do than thirst, Snape thought.

"Wotcher, Remus," Tonks said, standing uncomfortably, her fingers playing in the straps of her leather jacket. Her voice sounded hoarse, Snape suspected from crying. "Why the family conference?"

Lupin gestured to the table and chairs and took a chair himself. The others looked at each other quickly and then also sat.

"We need to talk about ... us. And the baby. How your parents can help -"

"We? We take responsibility for your failings, I suppose?" sneered Andromeda. Tonks waved a hand to silence her mother.

"Well, talk then," said Tonks, sticking out her chin resolutely. "Are you coming home?"

"It's not my home, Dora. It's yours."

"How can you say –?" Tonks started forward in her chair.

"Don't interrupt me, Dora. Please." Lupin held out his hands in a pacific gesture. "I know ... I know about the Amortentia and the Memory Charm."

"What's he talking about?" Ted asked his daughter, his tone urgent as Tonks's face blanched. "You didn't ..."

"Of course, she didn't, Ted," snapped Andromeda. "How could you even think ..."

"Much depends on honesty now," Lupin interrupted forcefully. "Our marriage can't work. It never could ..."

"But ..."

"Please Dora! Hear me out." Lupin gentled his tone to pacify her and then composed himself as Tonks settled back in her chair. "There are things that you didn't know. If you had, I don't believe you would have done what you did to me."

Tonks's face flushed and her eyes glittered.

"What do you mean by that?" sneered Andromeda. "Are you suggesting that _my_ daughter in some way _ensnared_ you? You? A filthy half-breed?"

"Mum! Don't!" Tonks pleaded, and Snape could see a flush of guilt begin to blossom on her cheeks. At least, she had that small amount of decency to feel guilt, Snape thought as he glared at her hard.

"Andromeda," Lupin said, with a long-suffering sigh. "It would be helpful if you could be quiet."

"I will not be told how to behave by one of your kind -" Andromeda said forcefully, her eyes darkening with fury, looking more like Bellatrix with every perceived offence. _Dear Merlin,_ thought Snape, _how did I never see her sister in her before – or Black for that matter?_

"Then leave! Leave now, and let me discuss this in peace with Dora. Ted can stay, if you're concerned to leave your daughter with me. Although I assure you: _she_ will be quite safe!" Lupin snorted derisively. Snape didn't think he had ever heard that derision from Lupin.

Snape moved forward angrily. He wanted them all in the Charm and he didn't want Andromeda to leave. But Lupin had judged it correctly in calling Andromeda's bluff. She sat back, her furious eyes boring into Lupin, as Ted patted her hand consolingly.

Lupin ignored this. He focused on Tonks and continued.

"There are things you didn't know. Albus decided these things had to be kept from you – from most in the Order and beyond. It was all part of his plans ..."

"Well, tell me! I signed up to the Order! I should know."

"These secrets were vital to Albus's plans ... are _still_ vital ..." Lupin began to pace the floor, Snape knew, from nerves.

"Are they to do with Harry? Something to do with his mission?" interrupted Tonks, her eyes alight.

"They are all part and parcel of the same plan. It was too dangerous for you and others in the Order to know. Lives depended – still do - on these things _not_ being known." Lupin stopped pacing and regarded Tonks almost regretfully. "I will say that you knew this thing once ... but Albus Obliviated you."

"What?" exclaimed Tonks.

"How dare he!" exploded Andromeda at the same time.

"Can we just hear the boy out?" chimed in Ted, who had been listening intently the whole time.

Andromeda reached out and held her daughter's hand.

"It is still a dangerous secret. However, you need to know it because this unborn child's life depends upon it, and on your co-operation."

"Get on with it, man!" clipped Andromeda impatiently.

Lupin stood still now, poised at he reached the crux of the matter.

"Only if you agree to be bound by a Fidelius Charm for everything that I'm about to reveal. This secret must be kept and this is the only safe way."

The Tonkses looked at each other, clearly shocked by the request and they began to discuss it animatedly amongst themselves, excluding Lupin. Snape stood forward and pressed a hand to Lupin's back in reassurance.

"And if we say no?" asked Ted.

"Then I cannot help Dora," said Lupin with an unfamiliar hardness. "And only knowing this secret can help Dora with what will happen."

"You must give us more!" pleaded Ted.

"No. This secret is too important to me." The atmosphere in the room became frigid.

"More important than I am?" asked Tonks plaintively.

Lupin regarded her coldly. Snape saw no trace of the pity Lupin normally had for her. The choice for Lupin at this moment was stark: Snape or Tonks. Snape's heart almost hurt, he was so touched.

"I'm sorry, Dora. Yes."

"More important than our child?" Her voice was raw.

"It's for the sake of the child that I'm even prepared to tell you this at all, but only under this safeguard."

Snape wondered what Lupin would do if _they_ called _his_ bluff. Snape decided in that moment, if they didn't consent, he would cast it anyway, without their consent, just as Dumbledore had done to him. Snape would not allow them to damage Lupin more than they had already done, even if made Lupin angry with him: he would take that risk.

Tonks jutted out her chin, looking for all the world as if she would refuse, but Ted covered her hands with his own.

"Dora love. You know your Mum and I have been worried about the baby. I know you and Remus have ... well, you've had your issues ..."

"But Dad -"

"Listen, love."

"Imagine! A werewolf ordering this family around!" hissed Andromeda.

"Enough, Dromeda! This is our daughter's welfare. Give it a rest, will you? Just give it a rest." Ted heaved a weary sigh. It was clearly an argument that was recycled with regularity.

"You're prepared to let him cast a Fidelius on you? Without knowing its terms? If we allow it, we can't discuss whatever this is with anyone else. It might be illegal! Or it might put us in league with the Dark Lord," she hissed.

"Why would you even think Remus would have anything to do with Death Eaters?"

"He's a werewolf, Ted. A Dark Creature!"

"Dromeda! Why should he suddenly change sides – after all these years?" Ted sat back, regarding his wife intently. "For our daughter and our grandchild, I'll take the risk," affirmed Ted, his amiable gaze now hardened with resolve. "Dora?" Ted said gently. "It's up to you."

During this whole exchange, Tonks hadn't taken her eyes from Lupin. Snape saw the hurt reflected in that glassy stare, the knowledge that this secret would be a heavy one for her to bear. She knew it would change everything. He saw her fighting the urge to refuse, as if that – somehow – would bring Lupin back to her. But the depth of hurt in her eyes told Snape she knew the truth. Lupin would never come back to her. At least now, she could learn why. Snape's stomach lurched unpleasantly as she nodded to Ted.

Ted turned to Lupin and nodded once more. "Go ahead, Remus."

Lupin lifted his wand, and Snape, still Disillusioned behind him, stepped forward and they cast the Charm together quickly and silently, in perfect unison, as they had practised. Snape moved back into the shadows as the family opposite them adjusted to the Charm settling on them.

"So tell us then. Tell me about this child's life and how it's bound up in this secret," said Andromeda her tone glacial. Lupin ignored her, never taking his own cold gaze from Tonks.

"Even though you dosed me with Amortentia, I knew I had cast a Contraceptive Charm on our wedding night. Still you went against my wishes in conceiving a child ..." he began.

"No, I didn't ..." Tonks protested. It was a mistake.

"I KNOW WHAT YOU DID!" shouted Lupin, slamming his fist on the table, stunning the assembled company. "I KNOW THE SPELL YOU CAST!"

Tonks blanched, as did her father whose hand moved to close around his wand. Snape was sure he saw Andromeda stiffen but not look as shocked as he had expected. Lupin breathed deeply and closed his eyes.

"You shouldn't have done that." Lupin stood away from the table, his own expression dejected. "You carry a werewolf."

"You can't know that!" gasped Tonks.

"I do know that! It's how this curse works! It's why people like me don't breed, Dora! Why do you refuse to listen?"

The silence crashed in around them. Ted stared between Lupin and his daughter, but Andromeda's stare fixed on her daughter with revulsion.

"It's not too late ..." Lupin said quietly.

"... I won't kill my baby ..." Tonks whispered, her hand resting protectively over her stomach. Lupin held up his hand to silence her.

"I'd never expect you to."

From his robe, Lupin pulled out the glass phial with the opalescent mauve potion. "This Potion will make the baby safe ..."

Tonks sat forward, staring intently at the phial.

"Wherever did you find it ... how ...?" Her voice trailed away as her trembling fingers reached for the Potion, her teeth biting her lower lip. Then one word escaped her in a rasp, as her eyes widened enormously.

"Snape!"

Her head snapped to Lupin and tears filled her eyes as her parents stared at her in confusion.

"Snape!" she said louder. "He ... he brewed it before." She pulled her hand back and stood suddenly, kicking back her chair. "For ... for Amelie and Jasper ... Romania! Oh my God, Remus!" The tears flowed down her cheeks now and Snape knew Dumbledore's Memory Charm had shattered, one memory leading to another and another, inexorably on to the truth of how wrong - how unutterably wrong - she had been.

Snape saw the shock and devastation in her eyes.

"Snape! _He_ was your mate, not Sirius!" Her hands flew to her face as a small shriek escaped. "He _is_ your mate! He made this Potion! You've been with _him_!"

Snape was shocked that Lupin did not comfort her or reassure her.

"Yes," Lupin said quietly. "I tried to tell you I wasn't the one for you. You wouldn't listen. Albus Obliviated you to keep Severus's cover."

"He's a traitor! He murdered Dumbledore!" she whispered frantically. "I should arrest you for aiding a Dark wizard ..."

"No, he isn't."

"How can you say that? Harry told us -"

"Because I know. It was arranged between them – between Albus and Severus. You saw his hand - that it was cursed. Albus was dying. It was planned, and now Severus's cover is unassailable." Lupin looked inexpressibly weary. He held out the Potion once more. "Please drink it. Do it now so I know it's done."

"I don't want anything from a Death Eater!" she spat.

"And I don't want to be responsible for creating a werewolf! Do it!" he ordered harshly and it startled Tonks again. Snape had heard that voice before, but only ever on the day of the full moon - never like this. Tonks stared at Lupin as if she had never seen him before and her nostrils flared.

"I can sort this out a much better way," Tonks cried desperately. "I only have to tell the Healers at St. Mungo's that it's a werewolf and I'd be given a termination immediately." Her usually pretty face was contorted with anguish and hatred as she watched Lupin's face pale. Snape could be silent no longer.

"No, Miss Tonks." Snape removed his Disillusionment Charm and stepped forward as Tonks quickly drew her own wand and Andromeda and Ted started forward in their seats, both reaching for their own wands. Lupin's wand was in his hand in an instant.

Snape's wand was also at the ready but, unlike Tonks, his mind was clear and his hand steady. He stood next to Lupin and spoke quietly, an unpleasant edge to his voice now he was finally confronting her.

"All you have to do is say the child you carry is a werewolf and you will be the subject of laboratory testing for the rest of your pregnancy until it ends in your death – which it most assuredly will."

"What? What are you talking about?" exclaimed Ted, standing and wrapping his arm protectively around his daughter who curled into him like a child as her wand arm dropped to her side and she wept.

Snape pulled Alphard's parchment from his cloak and set it before Tonks, one long finger pointing to the paragraphs on human and werewolf pregnancies. His black eyes never left Tonks. He didn't need Legilimency to understand the depth of her hatred for him at that moment.

"Your great uncle and I have corresponded," he said softly, but with no tenderness. "We have worked together on cures and medications for werewolves. A common cause, as it were. We are both _mated_ to werewolves, after all." He emphasised the word he knew would cut her deeply.

He ignored the outraged imprecations from Andromeda that only a Death Eater would hide in the shadows, and watched intently as, with trembling hands, Tonks picked up the parchment and read the paragraph, tears still streaming down her face. She brushed them away with the heel of her hands and sniffed, as her mother snatched the parchment from her and cast it away on the table as if it burnt her.

"Why should I believe anything my uncle says? He's unnatural too! He brought this shape-shifting curse on this family. Him and that Lydiard boy ..."

"BE QUIET, WOMAN!" shouted Snape. "Enough of your putrescence! That your aunt connived with the Dark Lord to have a fifteen year old boy Turned into a werewolf to protect the Black family name should tell you all you need to know about how wrong your morality is!"

"How do you know that?" cried Tonks.

"Because Remus and I stayed with that pack. We met Idris when Remus was running with the wolves."

"You dare talk of _my_ morality!" With a hiss through her teeth like a cat, Andromeda sent a Whipping Hex at Snape as she sneered, "You filthy half-blood!"

But Snape was quicker and parried the Hex, sending back a Stinging Hex of his own. It was Tonks who cast a Shield Charm between them as Snape and Andromeda prepared to cast again.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" cried Lupin. The raised wands flew to him, but not Snape's. Lupin had not commanded his. Tonks's mouth fell open in horror at this.

"Enough of this!" Lupin barked as he raised his other hand so Snape would cast no more curses. He kept his wand trained on them all as he placed Tonks's and Andromeda's wands in his belt, much to her chagrin, but he returned Ted's. "You will do me the courtesy – certainly for the first time, perhaps for the last – of listening. Severus can help us. And it is 'us', Andromeda. We have to work on this together to save your daughter's and this child's lives."

Andromeda's mouth snapped shut and Snape stepped back and breathed in deeply. Then Snape continued.

"This potion will make the child safe. With this, he will not be a werewolf. In fact, he will be a ..." Snape stopped himself saying 'shape-shifter' – he realised Andromeda would say it often enough. "He will be a metamorphagus too."

"You know it's a boy?" gasped Tonks. Snape had no intention of letting her know what their dream was or how Snape had prepared for it.

"A mere figure of speech," Snape said dismissively.

Tonks looked between her parents. There was no comfort to be had from Andromeda whose attention was still focused with hatred upon Lupin for taking her wand. Ted squeezed her hands and Tonks leant into him again. She stared at the Potion, looking at it askance.

"Is there any ... part of you in here?"

Snape rolled his eyes.

"What were you expecting, Miss Tonks? Or do you prefer Madam Lupin? My sperm perhaps?" Snape's lip curled in derision. Tonks screwed her eyes shut and didn't stop the beetroot flush that invaded her face, ignoring again the hissed protestations of Andromeda.

"No," Snape said with disdain. "The sweat of my brow and the product of my considerable intellect and skill have made this possible. You'll carry no part of me than those." He stopped himself saying that the Claim of Lupin coursed through his veins and the child would be connected to him through it. He very much wanted to just to see how it would pain her, but that would be counter-productive and, for now, he had to concentrate on her taking that Potion.

"This child is biologically Remus's and yours. My input is to change his - or her - development so it picks up your _gift_ rather than the Lycanthropic curse. But it must be taken quickly for that to happen."

"I don't want to!" Tonks said petulantly.

"I don't care!" said Snape through gritted teeth leaning over the table towards her. "I'll spell it down your throat if I have to!"

"You could be trying to poison me - kill my baby."

Snape had never felt more murderous than he did at that accusation. _How dare she!_

"I could do that any time I desire, I assure you."

"Nymphadora dear," said Andromeda, raising an immaculately manicured hand to silence Snape as she turned to her daughter, still clinging to her father. "Severus is a skilled Apothecary. One of the best. You know this." Her tone was reasonable, her expression kind, but Snape could see the hardness of purpose. She would not be grandmother to a werewolf, or see her daughter die. As a Slytherin, she would do whatever it took to accomplish her goal, even praising Snape's skill, if it was necessary.

"But Mum – it's Snape! He's a Death Eater ..."

Andromeda shot a brief glare at her husband, as if vindicated for her objection to the Fidelius, but then she softened.

"Does that mean this Potion won't work?" Andromeda stroked Tonks's now lank hair away from her face. "Think of the child. Think of yourself. Nymphadora darling -" and suddenly, she looked all too human as a mother trying to save her child's life, "- you'll die without this."

"You believe him?" Tonks whimpered.

"It would be the crowning achievement of the Lydiard Curse," said Andromeda. "Don't let it be. I beg you."

"I've never believed that old wives' tale," said Tonks, still sniffing. "You just use that because you hate my choices," she said resentfully.

"Perhaps, if you had listened, rather than crusading to be as much of a blood traitor as you could be, we wouldn't be in this situation now!"

"Enough!" hissed Snape once more, as Ted held on to his daughter from his wife's onslaught. "I'm fed up listening to this drivel about a curse! This is just a smoke screen for your daughter's criminal behaviour! Amortentia and Memory Charms!"

The colour leeched from Tonks's face as her father gaped, but her mother's gaze narrowed.

Lupin caught Snape's glare.

_Be careful!_ Lupin chided. _She must take the Potion!_

"Criminal? Do you honestly believe that a woman such as Nymphadora would want a wretched creature like him if she were in her right mind?" Andromeda flicked her hand dismissively at Lupin. "Oh it's real," she clipped. "Mimsy!"

A small elderly house-elf, clad in a pristine pillow-case, popped next to Andromeda and bowed low.

"Mistress Tonks!" The elf's eyes swivelled around to take in her surroundings as she came out of her bow.

"Mimsy, fetch the portrait of my parents. The one from the study."

"Mistress?" squeaked the elf, clearly scandalised. "Bring Mistress's esteemed parents to ... to a public house? _This_ public house?"

"Yes, and do it quickly," commanded Andromeda and the elf popped away. "We girls grew up with this tale – the tale of a Welsh braggart farmer who dared curse the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. We never doubted it! We had the evidence of our own eyes. My mother even thought I had married a Mudblood to dilute the curse!"

Lupin and Snape both stared at Ted, expecting him to be offended.

"Of course, your mother never once thought that perhaps this Mudblood had plans of his own," Ted said, real affection shining from an attempt at a cheeky smile as he looked at his beautiful wife and held his daughter proprietorially. Suddenly, Andromeda's face softened with love and kindness once more as she reached a hand to her husband and then stroked Tonks's hair once more.

Mimsy popped back, tottering under the weight of an ornate ormolu frame. Lupin Levitated it up and onto the mantelshelf. Mimsy stood like a statue awaiting her instructions.

"Daughter! Why have you brought us to this place?"

The middle-aged couple in the frame were Cygnus and Druella Black. Cygnus wasn't as handsome as his brother or his nephew, but it was clear he was a Black: long black hair with steel grey wings, grey eyes and a patrician nose all adding to an air of distinguished entitlement, as he sat in a rigid pose in his finely cut green robe with silver clasps. Druella Rosier Black, clad in ashes of roses and marl grey, complementing her husband's robe perfectly, stood with her hands folded over the wings of her husband's chair. She had heavy-lidded eyes like her eldest daughter, but there the resemblance to Bellatrix ended. Blonde Druella was as much like Narcissa as Bellatrix and Andromeda were clearly Blacks.

"Mama, Papa – please would you be so kind as to relate to these ... gentlemen the story of the Lydiard Curse."

Cygnus drew in a sharp breath over his teeth and Druella cast a reproving glare at her daughter.

"We do not speak of these things in company, Andromeda! You know this!" snapped Druella.

"They know of the Lydiard boy. They have even met him."

"He still lives!" gasped Cygnus, horrified.

"Not only lives, Papa. Uncle Alphard now lives with him."

For in as much as these were merely representations of people no longer living, in magical oils, yet still the tension became palpable.

"Alphard is alive?" whispered Cygnus, looking thoughtful. "We thought ... years ago, we thought he'd died on the continent."

"And these men know ..." asked Druella, leaning forward, shushing her husband with her hand.

"They know what Aunt Walburga did. They know she arranged the Turning of Lydiard's son with ... with the Dark Lord."

Tonks looked up at her mother through narrowed eyes, her expression becoming shrewd. "Why do you call him that?" Tonks hissed. Ted put his finger to his lips and squeezed her shoulders. "But why would she call him that?" she insisted.

"Be quiet, Nymphadora. Leave this to me."

"Hmph," Druella snorted, peering at Tonks. "At least her hair isn't pink today. Some kind of Mudblood fashion, is it?"

"Mama!"

"Come now, Dru," chuckled Ted, regarding the pair with more than a touch of humour. Snape wondered how he could tolerate the insufferable pair. "Your granddaughter is highly magical. Who knows where her metamorphagus ability could have come from back in the mists of time?"

"Theodore," said Druella, primly. "We resigned ourselves to Andromeda's marriage to you. We thought, at least, if she were only a blood-traitor, worse would not befall her. We were clearly wrong."

"How dare you!" cried Tonks. The pair in the portrait looked past her as if she were not there. Snape frowned.

"If you'd married your own kind ..." Druella whined.

"... but no, you had to compound the curse ..." Cygus joined in.

"No doubt you would have had a child with congenital degrading stupidity, but at least it would be a pure-blood!" Snape snapped, taking care to ensure the portrait figures could not see him. "Now enough of this familial back-biting."

"And who is this rude man who so addresses a scion of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black but does not show himself? A Mudblood, no doubt," challenged Cygnus.

Best they direct their odious opinions at him than at Lupin, who was watching the unfolding discourse with disgust and pity mixed. But Snape could not afford to be seen. Doubtless, there would be a corresponding portrait at Malfoy Manor and he did not want to be found out in that way.

"You do not need to know my name. Or what I do. I am a wizard. A half-blood. I know your family's shameful secret. I want to know if there is a curse at work to account for criminal behaviour of this family." He shot a hateful look at Tonks, whose father scowled at Snape as he hugged her once more. "Now speak!"

"Well really ..." huffed Cygnus.

"Is this because she's fixated on another of those creatures?" Druella asked, her voice dripping with disgust as she nodded at Lupin. "We so hoped when the first one died ..."

Tonks let out a wail of grief. Snape snatched a look at Lupin to see a look of utter horror at the cursed family in front of him.

"Please Mama. Papa." And now even Andromeda began to sound defeated by their indefatigable prejudice. "Just tell them the tale."

"Very well." Cygnus pinned Lupin with his grey eyes, cold and hard.

And he began.

"It was Easter. Walburga and Alphard were at Hogwarts as it was their NEWT and OWL years, but I was home. I was twelve and not allowed to stay at school over the holiday. We were at Grimmauld Place. At dinner, as I recall. Mama, Papa and I. There was a commotion outside. A pounding on the door. Then the front door was blown in! The house-elves were screeching! I heard the voice – it was deep and powerful."

Snape watched as the portrait's eyes seemed to unfocus with the memory. Was that possible?

"'Pollux Black! What kind of wizard hides behind his house-elves?' the voice boomed, and then I heard the crack of magic and the cry of our house-elves being Stunned.

"My father stood, telling my mother to keep hold of me and he left the room with his wand drawn and he was bound as soon as he entered the hall! I broke away from my mother's grasp and ran to the door.

"There was a wild man in the hall. He was as tall as Papa but broad, with wild black hair. He stank of drink but, as my memory serves, I don't think he was drunk at that time. He scared me and I remember I cried out just as my mother got to me and held me to her."

Snape imagined a version of Idris, wild with grief – he would almost feel the reality of it.

"'Who are you? Get out of this house!' my mother said, trying to be brave, but I could hear the fear in her voice. He bound and silenced Mama in a thrice. I needed no binding for I was paralysed with terror.

"The man stared at me – deep black eyes. I remember they seemed to burn into me. He couldn't seem to stop staring at me.

"'Two sons, have you, Black? As well as your foul daughter – a female so unnatural she would send a boy to a werewolf.'

"Then he looked at Papa, who was bound and silenced on the floor, struggling in his bonds.

"'So what if I took this boy and fed him to a werewolf, Black? Or is he disposable? Only your 'spare' after all? Perhaps I should fetch Alphard for good measure?'

"I remember my father's eyes. My father was not an expressive man, but I saw true fear in his eyes that day.

"'No, Pollux Black. I think you should suffer for a lifetime, and your children should suffer, and your children's children – grandchildren I can never now have!'

"Lydiard dropped to one knee and lifted his wand to my father's heart. I saw the sweat break on my father's forehead. I had never seen it before, nor saw it again. Then the wild man spoke – so resonant – his words drilled through me to my core. I know they settled there, as his wand traced the curse and silver tendrils snaked out, seeming to fan out over my father's heart and then to sink into his clothes. I remember Papa arched in pain as the wild man incanted:

_'I curse you, Pollux Black and bring down on you this Reckoning!_ __  
_'May the Darkness in your soul eat your Black black heart._ __  
_'May your line be blighted, each and every one._ __  
_'May all that you fear for them be their true reward._ __  
_'Let them betray the pure-blood you hold so dear by the choices which they make._ __  
_'Let the moon control them as it now controls my son, by curse or in madness._ __  
_'Make them lunatics, blood traitors and shape-shifters all!_ __  
_'May they tear open your daughter's Black black heart,_ __  
_'As mine has been torn from me!_ __  
_'May this curse never be laid to rest,_ _  
_ _'Until my son is restored to me!'"_

Snape felt the hair prickle on his body. Such a Dark and terrible curse. It would have cost Lydiard greatly to have cast such a curse.

"Then he staggered away, _Rennervating_ the elves as he went. The house-elves undid the spells." The portrait's eyes snapped back into focus. "I recall Papa telling Mama after that Easter that Lydiard had died. Mama hoped the curse was broken. But I remember how my father said ... he said,

"'It has already begun.'

"I didn't know what he meant then but looking back, Alphard had already withdrawn from the family, from pure-blood society. As soon as he left school, he left for the continent to search for the half-breed. Walburga's behaviour became more erratic. The only match my parents could make for her was with cousin Orion. When he married her, he took the curse so seriously, he put every protection known to Wizardkind on the house in case they could be haunted by Lydiard, or tracked down by his half-breed son. They were terrified.

"And so it went on throughout the years. Walburga gradually lost her mind. Our father outlived us all and watched his family disintegrate in body or in mind. Alphard was lost – or we thought he was – and had no children. Orion died in '79. Sirius was already blood traitor. Then Regulus died. But then Sirius was accused of being a Death Eater and ended up in Azkaban. Walburga died mad and broken.

"Our own children? Only Narcissa seemed to escape." (Snape said nothing of what _she_ suffered now.) "Our beautiful Bella showed madness early and she was so very Dark. She had no children and perhaps ... perhaps that was for the best. And Andy," Cygnus actually smiled. "Andy and her Mudblood. Walburga blasted you from the tapestry but I don't deny we hoped that if Theodore was the worst that could happen to you, perhaps the curse was diluting." Cygnus sat back in his winged chair, his remembrance finished.

"So," Tonks said, her face tear-stained and crumpled, "you would have me believe that what I feel for Remus is just a curse!" Her voice rose hysterically. "That everything I felt for David was a lie!" Grief crashed over her anew. "It was not a lie. I loved. And I love!"

Snape stepped backwards, finding her grief unseemly and painful to behold. She spun to face Lupin.

"You should have told me! You had no right to play with my feelings."

"I never played with your feelings. I needed help at the full moon. Albus asked you ..."

"Damn Albus!" she shouted. "How could he ask that of me? How could you? You know what the Bite is!"

"Bite? Sweet Salazar, do you bite my daughter?"

Just as the Andromeda and the grandparents in the portrait were about to begin berating Lupin, Snape swiped his wand so all of the Tonkses and Blacks were silenced.

"Take that bloody article away!" Snaped roared at the house-elf. Mimsy looked to Andromeda who nodded her assent, even as she clasped her own throat. The elf Summoned the portrait to herself with a snap of her fingers and popped away.

Snape undid the charm on Tonks, but only on Tonks. He wouldn't listen to any more of Andromeda's pure-blood bile. He wouldn't have Lupin listen to it.

"I don't understand how you could have done this, Remus," she cried, glaring balefully at Snape.

"Dora. You remember now – you remember seeing us in Romania. How can you doubt it's true?"

"But after – even if Dumbledore -" her breath hitched again. "You let me think -"

"I never let you think that, Dora. Please, be honest with yourself. I told you over and over!"

Even as Lupin pleaded, Andromeda stood sharply, turned her back and walked away to stare out of the window, robbed of her wand and her voice to express her distaste for what she heard.

"You asked me to marry you," Tonks whispered.

"Under Amortentia," countered Lupin softly. "Why did you resort to that if you truly believed I could love you?"

Ted ran a hand over his face, his expression devastated for his daughter as he still held her hand.

"I thought ... Sirius ... I ..." her voice broke.

"Even if I had been with Sirius, what you did was wrong, Dora."

She shook her head convulsively, as if willing the voice away. When she spoke next, her voice was hollow.

"You used me to keep _him_ safe. A murderer. A Death Eater."

Lupin's eyes closed at the accusation, and Snape knew she had found the wound with pinpoint accuracy.

"Your help kept us both safe whilst Severus did as Albus ordered. Yes," said Lupin, his shoulders slumped. "I'm sincerely sorry you thought it was more."

"Of course I thought it was more!" Tonks shouted. "Anyone who knows what the Bite is would think so!" Her eyes were a fierce orange now, almost like a wolf's in colour as her hair began to flame red. "And about Sirius! I mean, Sirius and Snape _hated_ each other. Did you keep this from Sirius too? Lie to him as well? He was supposed to be your friend!" she said accusingly.

She might as well have called him 'lying werewolf' – it was certainly the inflection in her voice. Snape watched Lupin's face, seeing a tiredness there, almost an acceptance that this had to be the accusation that would come.

"Severus and Sirius had an understanding at the end," said Lupin, wearily.

"I never saw it," Tonks responded tartly.

"You weren't _supposed_ to," Snape jeered, as if she were a particularly idiotic student. Her eyes narrowed at Snape, making her look so like her mother.

"What dark spell brought you two together?" she said viciously to Snape.

"Why you –" Snape's wand trained on her throat and her eyes flashed triumphantly to have provoked him even as Lupin's Shield Charm separated them.

"Hit a nerve, have I?" she hissed, the colour in her hair now a vivid and angry crimson.

"No Dora," said Lupin quietly – but the softness of his voice belied the wolfishness in his glare. "Don't denigrate my relationship with Severus." He placed a possessive hand on Snape's shoulder. "You've trespassed on it enough."

"How could I trespass on it? I didn't bloody know -" Her voice trembled.

"Do you think that excuses what you did? Obliviating Remus because you assumed he had mated with Black? You gave him Amortentia! And not just once! You! An Auror! Do you even remember my lecture on Amortentia? That it can never _never_ replicate true love? And then – on top of that - the Conception Spell! Forcing a conception on Remus he didn't want! The corruption of the Blacks is certainly running rampant through you, Miss Tonks!"

Tonks issued a strangled gasp as her own legs gave way and she sat heavily on her chair, her father sitting with her.

BAM! Ted slammed the table with the flat of his hand and gestured angrily to his mouth. Snape removed the Silencing Charm.

"That's enough, Severus!" Ted cried.

"No, it'll never be enough for me!" hissed Snape, but Ted moved protectively in front of his daughter, his genial face distraught at what he had heard.

"I understand, Severus. If what you say is true -"

"Ted!" Andromeda snapped. "How can you even -"

"Dromeda. Don't," he sighed heavily. "This is no time for pretence. I know about those family spells – the stories you've told me." He shook his head. "Maybe it is the Lydiard Curse. Maybe. It fits." Snape could see Ted didn't believe it though. "But it's enough. Let me deal with it. Let me take care of it." Ted turned to face his daughter, crooking a finger under her chin. "Dora love. Take the Potion. For your old Dad? I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you. Please?"

"And then what?" sobbed Tonks.

"At least you and the baby will be safe," Ted said, unstoppering the phial and passing it to his daughter. "And the rest ... we'll take it step by step."

Her eyes never leaving her father's, Tonks downed the Potion in one. She closed her eyes and when she opened them, they were a startling violet, staring at Snape.

"I may have to keep your secret, Snape, but one day we'll meet as Auror and Death Eater. No Fidelius will help keep you safe then."

She held out her hand for her wand and Lupin returned it with her mother's. Snatching it, she left and her mother followed.

Ted remained, looking frazzled.

"When ... how will we know if the Potion works?" he asked tentatively.

"I'll know at the next full moon," said Lupin confidently.

"You'll let me know. Probably contacting me would be best."

Lupin nodded. "I'll let you know any Order news too," Lupin said.

Ted nodded and moved to the door.

"I'm sorry, Ted."

"So am I, son. So am I."

oooOOOooo

Snape wrote out the Lydiard Curse and leant over his table, studying it. He could feel the power in the metre of it. A wizard in the very depths of grief-stricken desolation could cast the most powerful of curses. Could this curse have travelled down the generations in the way Cygnus Black had said?

"If it's true, maybe we can help," said Lupin at his side.

Snape swung around and glared at Lupin incredulously.

"Might I remind you that she drugged you! She ... she abused you!" Snape said, his fists balled.

Lupin stepped up to Snape and enveloped Snape's fists in his own hands.

"Thank you, Severus," he said softly and kissed Snape's lips, shocking Snape completely. "For caring enough to be angry for me. Until I came to find you, I felt so alone. That no-one would ever believe me. And now there's you." Lupin held Snape's gently, and kissed him again, leading him to sit down with him on the settee.

"I'm trying to find a way out for all of us," Lupin continued. Snape made to protest, but Lupin pressed a gentle finger to Snape's lips. "Please." He closed his eyes slowly and when he opened them Snape saw a deep pain in them before Lupin spoke again.

"Do you remember our first Christmas? What I did to you? How you said to me that you could no more blame me had I been under the Imperius Curse?"

"It's not the same," growled Snape.

"I _raped_ you," murmured Lupin, his face draining of colour. Lupin swallowed hard and said, "Violently. You could forgive me because you wanted to."

"I could forgive you because you were under the possession of the Darkest of Slave curses and it fractured the wolf from you. You, Remus Lupin, would never have raped me!"

Despite Snape's protestations, Snape realised what Lupin was trying to say, what Lupin's compassionate nature compelled him to request: Snape had shown Lupin mercy and compassion in the face of a grave crime committed because of a Dark Curse; now Lupin wanted to do the same. Snape's heart swelled with such intense pride and love that it was almost painful, and he wondered, as he had so often before, how Lupin had this capacity for forgiveness with all the insults life hurled at him.

Snape loved him for it all the more. Snape, however, would watch Tonks as a snake watches a mongoose. Snape would _never_ forgive her.

"A Dark curse, Severus. If the Lydiard Curse is real, maybe we could help break it. We worked a counter-curse for the Thrall after all. We could help free her from it. Freeing her frees us, don't you see?"

"You think she would relinquish you if we broke the curse?" asked Snape, disbelieving.

"Yes, I do. It'll be difficult; traumatic even especially because of the pregnancy. But it would be freedom for us too, Severus. And hopefully, when the dust has settled, there'll be no fuss over a divorce – it'll just be us again. I'm certain Andromeda will assist – anything to get me out of their lives."

"We had Albus's help before."

"We were dealing with a multi-layered curse, cast by a coven. If that portrait is right, it was just Idris's father. Hopefully, we can work it out."

"What of the child? If she thinks the child is the product of a curse ..."

"I think," Lupin sighed heavily, "even without the curse, everything she's found out today will be very hard for her to bear." He clasped Snape's hand. "Perhaps ... perhaps ... the child will be too much for her." Lupin's eyes darkened with sadness but he said no more. Snape slipped his arm around Lupin and held him close, and Lupin nestled into Snape's embrace.

"If the curse is real, do you believe she ever really loved David?" wondered Snape.

"It looked real to me. But then you know Dark magic can manipulate the feelings – the emotions of its targets." Lupin rubbed his thumbs over Snape's hands.

"Don't you think the Blacks with all their money and influence would have tried breaking the curse? Hired the great Spell Workers of the day to assist them?"

"Possibly, but then they would have to tell the Spell Worker _why_ they had been cursed. I wonder if they would have trusted such a Dark and dangerous secret to a stranger – a secret that could see Sirius's mother and the young You-Know-Who in Azkaban or leave them open to blackmail for a lifetime." Lupin shook his head. "No. Without knowing the Caster's intention, I think all of those people would have had no empathy with the Caster; no insight into Lydiard's tortured mind. They would have failed."

"Very well," said Snape. If there were supernatural bonds tying Tonks to his husband, Snape would ensure they were severed - once and for all. He would have that witch out of their lives.

"I think you need get in touch with Idris about his father," said Snape as he read the curse again. "I don't think a message from me will find a welcome there."

* * *

**.**   


**Next chapter: Work begins as the staff returns and Snape and Lupin have many priorities to juggle.**


	109. The Game's Afoot

Emboldened by their reunion and their united front against the Tonkses, they had talked well into the night about their hopes and fears, their pain and their doubts, encouraging each other to be candid about those things which had wounded each of them the most. These wounds had been difficult to face, but now they had come to terms with the seismic shock of the confessions of the previous days, they both knew they had to confront the issues facing for their relationship to survive. No grand solutions would be found so soon but they knew this. They only hoped to understand each other better and bolster their trust in each other. Eventually they had slept, once more enfolded in each other's arms.

The next morning, as Lupin returned from the bathroom, he stopped and Levitated Malfoy's torn robe from the corner of the bedroom floor where he had thrown it yesterday and, with a brisk upstroke of his wand, he cast _Incendio!_ The robe was reduced to ashes which Lupin Banished lazily and he climbed back into bed, pulling Snape to himself.

Still under the bed covers, Snape smiled to himself. He wanted to see Lupin assert himself, and even these small actions showed small glimmers of their normality but, truthfully, these glimmers were fewer than Snape would like. This morning, he wanted to keep the conversation as light as they could to help them re-establish some of that normality.

"Yesterday was the third time I've seen you Disarm multiple duellists," Snape said, settling against Lupin's chest. "I'm beginning to suspect you've had a lot of practice," he added wryly.

"James and Sirius would often practice on each other or even on Peter. Sometimes, it could get a little out of hand. Teenage boys, you know. So, I became quite adept at Disarming them." Lupin chuckled softly and Snape rolled his eyes, but it was half-hearted. There had never been such horseplay in his dorm; such fighting and Disarming had been all too real for Snape at that time. But he didn't begrudge Lupin his memories – not any more.

"Who'd've thought it would be such good training for you," he said instead, turning to face Lupin.

"Quite. Although – it was a regular occurrence, I must admit." A small smile quirked the corners of Lupin's mouth. Even these small smiles warmed Snape's heart: he wanted to see more of them - more of Lupin's humour and gentle temperament. He wondered how long it would take.

He leant over Lupin to kiss him, but exactly as his lips met Lupin's, the Dark Mark burnt.

The stark contrast of the pain from the burn with the contentment he had felt a scintilla of time before caught him off-guard and he could not hide his pain as he lurched onto Lupin's chest as his arm gave way.

Lupin caught him in his arms, his eyes sharpening with worry. Snape gasped as he grasped his arm and Lupin helped him to sit up. Snape closed his eyes and smiled weakly at Lupin's concern.

"It had to happen sooner or later. I'm just grateful this didn't happen earlier," said Snape stoically, a brief flash of what could have happened had he been summoned during their meeting with the Tonkses last night sending a chill through him, at least as much as had the summons come when he had seduced Lupin from his abstinence. Snape found himself absurdly grateful at the timing.

"I'd be more grateful if it didn't happen at all," said Lupin ruefully as he steadied Snape to stand and retrieved Snape's robe from the wardrobe, quickly steaming it with a charm and holding it for Snape to put his arms through, wrapping it around him, fastening the buttons before brushing it down and slipping the belt through its loops.

Snape watched Lupin's hands as they worked, worked to keep himself busy, Snape knew, as he watched the muscles in Lupin's jaw twitch, understanding Lupin was putting off thinking about where Snape was now going.

"I don't want you to go," murmured Lupin, his hands holding Snape's shoulders, his eyes darkened with fear, a fear Snape realised was borne of separation after such a short time of reunion – that Snape might not return.

Snape cupped Lupin's face. Lupin looked so lost, so helpless. These were such early days for them, so much rebuilding to do for them both when they felt so vulnerable.

"No. I know," Snape murmured, brushing his face against Lupin. "But now ... now at least there may be more we can gain from my service to the Dark Lord than just biding my time as Headmaster."

"What do you mean: biding your time?"

"I'll explain when I get back." Snape grabbed the back of Lupin's head and kissed him hard. "Don't worry, Remus. At the moment, my currency with the Dark Lord is high."

He nodded and Lupin nodded in pained understanding.

Snape had hoped there would be more time before he was summoned again as well. They still had so much to discuss – so much to confront and surmount. Snape had hoped they would have time to consolidate their reunion before this happened, but it was not to be. Snape hoped that whatever this summons might bring, he would not be felled by the Dark Lord's cruelty. He wanted to make the most of this time he and Lupin had together before the staff returned.

Lupin seemed almost skittish as Snape made for the door. Perhaps, he needed something to do whilst Snape was gone.

"You could wait for me in the Headmaster's office, if you prefer," suggested Snape, thinking Lupin could at least have company with Dumbledore or he could look at Dumbledore's extensive library. Lupin shook his head slowly.

"I need time before I speak to Albus again," Lupin said, surprising Snape with the hard edge in his voice, then he pulled Snape to him. "Please - be careful."

"Of course."

oooOOOooo

"… so they have to flush themselves inside!" Snape heard Yaxley boast as he swept into the hall and the assembled Death Eaters laughed uproariously. "Not us, though. We keep our access on the Floo network, but it's limited to only high-ranking personnel."

"Ah Severus," said the Dark Lord. "Come. Sit beside me."

The Dark Lord indicated his right hand side, and Snape took the reserved seat with a satisfied half-smile, allowing himself smug looks at Bellatrix and Lestrange. He would have included Malfoy in the performance in years gone by, but Malfoy was a busted flush now, cringing in his chair, wandless and broken, propped up by his wife, attended by a son grown afraid of the barbarity of the regime of which he had so willingly become a part. His eyes flicked away from the desperate family to the brutish man still speaking.

Yaxley was in the midst of reporting on Umbridge's Muggle-born Registration Commission. They were utilising Dementors prior to the hearings to ensure those called were cowed into submission.

"Give 'em a taste of what's to come in Azkaban!" jeered Dolohov to the voluble appreciation of those around him.

It was early days. Information was being collated from the Ministry's records and hearings were proceeding apace. Snape saw the draft of a pamphlet being passed back to Yaxley. Snape could just make out the title:

  
**_MUDBLOODS  
_ ** **_and the Dangers They Pose to a Peaceful Pure-Blood Society_ **  


Snape waved it away when it came to him. He didn't need to see it: he had more than a fair idea of the type of hysterical drivel Umbridge would concoct and it was clear that the Dark Lord tired of such bureaucracy. He turned to the Death Eater who would be sure to provide him with blood sport.

Bellatrix reported on the murder and torture of a Muggle family. She fleshed out the detail of how slowly they had died, her eyes alight with fanaticism as she looked adoringly on the Dark Lord, yearning for his approval. The family had lived in one of the many villages which held a mixture of Muggle and magical blood. Snape began to realise that these would be particular targets of Death Eaters as their deaths in close proximity to magical people would be most threatening to those who continued to resist the Dark Lord's reign.

As she finished her macabre recollections, she turned on Snape, hissing, "What has Dumbledore's lapdog done to show his loyalty to our Lord this week? Tortured any paperwork?" She cackled maniacally.

The Dark Lord raised a long hand to silence her and she shrank bank into her chair. He turned slowly to Snape.

"Have you been busy at the school, Severus? Have you prepared for the future of wizarding kind?" the Dark Lord leered.

"Amongst other things, my Lord," said Snape, with a practised insouciance. Snape reeled off experiments undertaken on poisons and potions, using as much jargon as he knew would obfuscate what he was doing to all but an Apothecary, and then he detailed all the administrative work he should have been doing, but in fact had neglected completely because of his reunion with Lupin. He made it sound tedious and drawn-out, as no doubt it would be when he eventually turned his mind to it.

Amycus Carrow guffawed heavily in the corner.

"Yeah. Personally – I can't wait! It'll be interesting teaching the pampered brats how to use the Dark Arts properly. None of this defence crap." He snorted, and the assembled Death Eaters sniggered immoderately. "Yeah. Yeah. Whaddya need to defend against?" He carried on laughing, looking at his fellows for approval.

Snape thought, _I could cast Sectumsempra! to his face now, and then ask him if he wishes to know how to defend against it._ He sneered at the thought. Snape could not – no, he did not _bother_ to – disguise his disgust that imbeciles such as the Carrows had been chosen to be appointed as professors at an institution such as Hogwarts. Perhaps in a way, it was a blessing. Any student with a functioning brain could tell the Carrows were nothing but ill-educated brutes. They might appeal to the Crabbes and Goyles of this world, but what they had to demonstrate was hardly aspirational. Intelligent bigots would be far more difficult for Snape to undermine and sabotage.

Alecto Carrow was now joining in – indeed, she was almost drooling, Snape noticed with disdain, as she chattered with relish about how she would tell the truth of Muggles and Muggle-borns. _She_ would teach young wizardkind just how to deal with the Mudblood thieves of magic and their partners-in-crime, the blood traitors.

As the Carrow twins crowed their hatred, the Dark Lord silenced them.

"I'm sure we will hear more of your escapades once term starts," he said, although his tone was dismissive. He turned to Selwyn.

"How goes it at Gringotts?"

"There has been some resistance, my Lord. The little bleeders needed a reminder of what they'll have to put up with if they don't give us access to their accounts. So I showed 'em. With interest!" Selwyn mimed the _Crucio_ wand movements. "Even uglier when you make them dance!" he sneered, provoking even louder laughter from around the table. Snape allowed himself a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.

And so the evening wore on, each Death Eater vying to out-do the others in their bragging of their cruelty. The Dark Lord savoured their malice – encouraging them to make him proud – to impress upon all his inferiors how even their lives had no worth to him.

In that small part of Snape's Occluded mind where he preserved his sanity, he thought on the soft touch of Lupin's fingers tracing Snape's jaw; how he and Snape had sat together holding hands through their traumatic discussions last night; how Lupin would place his face into Snape's hands in supplication or the hoarse whisper of, "My Severus," that would send a thrill through his whole being. It was the gentleness that gave him strength in the face of such malevolence – a balm of comfort to soothe the savagery of those whose validation he had once sought so desperately.

And they dared called Lupin a beast?

He watched them snarling and jabbering just like jackals around carrion and made his careful mental notes of all they said, grateful that this time for the first time in months, Lupin would be there to administer that balm to his soul when he returned.

oooOOOooo

Snape's return unharmed was greeted by Lupin with a desperate kind of relief and happiness combined. He wouldn't believe Snape was unharmed until he had run his own hands over him and found no trace of injury and then had held Snape close, a shudder of relief taking hold of him. It only seemed to reinforce in Snape the realisation of how damaged Lupin had been by their time apart.

Snape knew he wouldn't always be so lucky to be unpunished by the Dark Lord, but they needed to restore their faith in each other to fortify them for that time when it came, as it undoubtedly would. They rested for a while together before Tippy served them supper and Snape told Lupin all that had been reported.

It was clearly as repulsive to Lupin as it had been to Snape, but interesting nonetheless to have his slightly different slant on it.

"The Goblins are magical beings, but they cannot withstand a show of violence from wizards," said Lupin. "Hearing about them from Bill, I dare say, they'll find more subtle ways to undermine the regime." Then Lupin became thoughtful. "You know, if Vo ... You-Know-Who gets access to the accounts ... we need to give up the flat, Severus. The rental payments are from your vault."

Snape closed his eyes. He'd forgotten. It could have been their undoing. It was insidious. There would be no place for them to call home outside of Hogwarts.

"We'll have all your things brought here ... I'm sure we can find somewhere to store them all ..."

"There's the farmhouse," offered Lupin. "I mean, if I've too much to keep here."

Snape blinked. "The farmhouse? Well, yes. Can we still use it? I mean, was it bequeathed in Albus's will?"

Lupin looked confused momentarily and then his face fell with the realisation.

"He didn't tell you." It was a statement, not a question. Then Lupin's face lit up with a smile. "Albus transferred it to me just after we'd done the Fidelius on the flat. He said it was for us but in my name to preserve your cover."

Snape was stunned: the farmhouse was theirs – given to them! Lupin continued.

"It turns out that it used to be owned by Idris's father. Albus said he'd offered to return it to Idris, but he refused it so Albus transferred it to me. He said it would avoid Ministry notice if it wasn't in his will." Lupin eyes sparkled with hope, lighting up that sorely missed smile. "I hoped after the war ... it would be our home. Then everything went wrong. I still hope it will be our home, Severus."

It had been Snape's dream, hadn't it? To live in that house with Lupin. But this news - that it had been Idris's family home - intruded on his pleasant thoughts of a life with Lupin as he remembered the final words of the curse:

_'May this curse never be laid to rest, Until my son is restored to me!'_

He couldn't help but wonder how much Albus knew about Lydiard and if the curse connected to the farmhouse? But then another question cut into his reverie.

"Did you ever take _her_ there?" muttered Snape, toying with his fork, feigning a disinterest he wished he could feel.

He waited for Lupin to insist she be given her name. Snape knew why Lupin did it: Lupin had spent a lifetime being "it" – a mere creature, dehumanised by a refusal to give him his name – even Snape had been guilty of it once. And even though he knew why Lupin insisted on naming Tonks – a vicarious stand against dehumanisation - for Snape, she had trespassed on Lupin too greatly. Snape could not forgive her, or give her respect.

Lupin regarded Snape and, with a sad smile that seemed to acknowledge Snape's unspoken feelings, he said, "No. I never even told her of it. It's ours. Just ours."

Snape wrapped his own hand over Lupin's. He wanted to leave Hogwarts and Apparate to the farmhouse with Lupin right then and there but he had to remember the Jinx. They only had safety together here in Hogwarts.

"What of the werewolf restrictions? Can they confiscate the farmhouse from you?"

"Ah! Now there's the trick! The farmhouse is a Muggle property. Lydiard inherited it from his Muggle-born wife's parents, together with the farm land. It's not registered with the Ministry. Of course, if the Death Eaters start looking at Muggle property registration ... well, there may be trouble ahead. But for now," Lupin smiled warmly and kissed Snape softly, "it's ours."

Then Lupin got up from the table and retrieved a sheaf of paperwork from Snape's desk. "And as for your administration, hopefully, this will be of some help."

Snape took the papers and shuffled through them, a smile slowly forming as he realised Lupin had done the timetabling for each year: all the classes perfectly scheduled. It must have taken hours. But then – Snape had been gone for hours.

"I hope you don't mind," said Lupin. "I was going mad waiting here," Lupin gestured around himself, "not knowing …"

Snape grabbed Lupin's gesticulating hand.

"Thank you," said Snape, his voice low and reassuring, his eyes darting over the papers, taking in all the meticulous detail, squeezing Lupin's hand. "This is perfect. Absolutely perfect." Snape looked up to meet Lupin's relieved gaze. "Of course, I'll have to write it out again. My handwriting's fairly well-known and yours is … well …"

Lupin chuckled. "Yes, I know what you think of my handwriting, Severus, but I think I can help there too."

Lupin got up and found one of Snape's brewing diaries and cast a charm over it. As he cast, Snape stood behind Lupin's shoulder and watched as his own handwriting formed an alphabet of upper case and lower case letters and the range of numbers in mid-air. Then Lupin cast again and his handwriting appeared and he performed a Switching Spell. With a final flourish, he cast the Switching Spell to the timetable parchments on the table. Snape returned to the table and inspected them: his handwriting in every detail. He thumbed through them quickly. He couldn't identify a single detail that was off.

He turned to Lupin and raised an eyebrow.

"A Marauder spell?" he said, with mock severity.

"I'm afraid so, Severus," Lupin responded with mock contrition of his own.

"Cheating, I suppose."

"Helping Peter when he got behind with his notes, helping me with mine when I was … well … indisposed." Lupin shrugged. "Very useful, it was too."

"Well, it looks as if it will be very useful for us now."

Lupin smiled brightly this time. Snape remembered, with a sharp pang of guilt, that Lupin had always enjoyed the administration that came with teaching, revelling in bringing order to disorder – perhaps transferring his own desire for control which he couldn't exercise on his own chaotic life before he taught at Hogwarts.

"Excellent!" said Lupin happily. "I very much want to help, where I can."

Immediately, that declaration and the throwaway comment about Marauder spells triggered an idea.

"Actually, you can help me with something I agreed with Albus," said Snape. "Now is as good a time as any. Tell me all of the secret passageways you found for your map. I want to seal them ceremoniously when the staff return …"

Lupin blinked, uncomprehending.

"But, surely, Severus – there should be as many escape routes as possible if there are to be teachers who are Death Eaters!"

"This is how the game is played, Remus. I give the Dark Lord seemingly vital information but withhold the essentials."

"I don't understand …"

"As Headmaster, I, and only I, can channel through the stone of the castle. Albus made sure he showed me before …" It was a momentary hesitation only, but Lupin caught it and pressed his fingers to Snape's hand to continue. "Before he died. You remember that defence club Potter ran when Umbridge was here?"

Lupin affirmed, still confused.

"They used the Room of Requirement to train. Well, it isn't even up for question that there will be those who need to use that room once more, even just as a place of respite once," Snape sneered, "there are teachers like the Carrows on the loose. I will channel a tunnel through to Hogsmeade. It will be a new passageway – no-one but you and I know of it now, but those who seek refuge there will quickly find out about it. There isn't the remotest possibility that any other former student will know of its existence. After all, you and your friends may have traced them all, but you can be certain plenty of ex-students know one or more of them. So, I tell the Dark Lord of those already in existence and make a show of sealing them off. It will never cross his mind that I myself have built a new passageway for the students' use."

An appreciative smile crept onto Lupin's face.

"Where in Hogsmeade?"

Snape returned the smile.

"Well … that is where I will also need your undoubted talents of persuasion. Albus thinks Aberforth will be willing." Then Snape inclined his head, reconsidering. "Perhaps not willing as such, but amenable to the right person."

Lupin was now attentive, positively eager.

"Just tell me what you need me to do."

"I think if you told Aberforth that there was a secret passage behind his pub cellar which could prove useful to protect the students from the Death Eaters in the castle, including his brother's killer, he would be more than amenable to allowing it access."

Lupin's smile waned somewhat, but Snape was firm.

"You must use what galvanises people, Remus. It is not a lie to say I am Albus's killer, after all. There needs to be an escape route that is safe. Parents will not be able to remove their children once term starts – attendance at Hogwarts is mandatory. If parents try to remove their children, the Dark Lord has already made clear the parents will suffer directly – or indirectly through their children."

"This is just appalling," muttered Lupin.

"Yes, it is. We have to do what we can. I will do my best to deflect the Carrows, but that tunnel may become necessary, sooner or later. So – will you give me the passageways?"

For a brief moment, Snape wondered if Lupin trusted him fully, for he was sure he saw a flicker of doubt as Lupin's lips thinned, but then Lupin nodded and pulled a piece of parchment to him, drawing the locations out for Snape to give to his master.

"Do you want to watch me perform the spell on the Room of Requirement?" asked Snape, withholding the sigh of relief at Lupin's demonstration of complete trust in him.

"Oh yes, Severus. Very much."

"Tomorrow then. We can work on concealing your movements within the school at the same time."

oooOOOooo

_We need the room in which the students will hide and find refuge.  
_ _We need the room in which the students will hide and find refuge.  
_ _We need the room in which the students will hide and find refuge._

They watched the great door appear and went through together. Snape felt Lupin's fingers find his hand.

The last time they had been here together, they had trained and duelled, practised Occlumency and forged a mental bond. Snape had bonded his wand to his husband – and it had nearly cost him his life. He turned to look at Lupin and saw Lupin's Adam's apple move as he gulped and knew Lupin was remembering the same.

"Severus, I …"

"Don't," Snape interrupted firmly. "You did what any man would have done in your position, Remus. You thought I had betrayed you. How could you think otherwise when I had left you without explanation – when it was I who killed Albus?" Lupin's eyes glittered; Snape could hardly blame him: his own eyes stung with the memories. "And once _she_ scrambled your memories, you believed I was duelling you to kill. I don't blame you. Not now. Not now I know what she did. If we forgive each other, we must forgive ourselves as well, don't you think?"

Lupin regarded him intently, and then screwed his eyes shut as if screwing his courage together.

"I want our life back, Severus. How do we move forward with all the damage we've done?"

Snape moved closer, drawing Lupin's hands to him.

"It's done, Remus. We can't undo it. I wish we could. I wish I'd told you everything before Albus bound me – about Lily – Albus - everything. You'll never know how much I hate myself for it." Lupin started to object, but Snape stopped him. "If you'd known – if you'd just known -"

Lupin pulled Snape into a fierce embrace. "Sshhh," he murmured against Snape's hair. "You mustn't hate yourself for this – for trusting Albus, just as I did." He pressed urgent kisses to Snape's face and Snape reciprocated, remembering their passion in this very room when they prepared for their roles in this war.

"Then we have to agree, Remus – we have to move forward, no matter how painful. We have too much to do."

"Yes. Yes, I agree." Lupin broke the embrace, although his hand still trailed in Snape's fingers. "Perhaps, we should start … Headmaster."

Snape smiled at Lupin's slightly lop-sided wry smile at the title. . Lupin moved to the side to watch. Then Snape closed his eyes slowly, summoning the spell Dumbledore had taught him

Snape raised his arms, his wand held high and he began to invoke.

oooOOOooo

Snape fingered the gaps in the book shelves. _Odd._ The shelves had always looked full to bursting before. He stood back and turned to talk to Dumbledore, but the portrait snoozed. Snape looked again at the several gaps. There was a mystery there, he was sure, but a sharp rap of knuckles on the door drew his attention away and he went to stand behind his desk, clasping his hands behind his back and standing straight and stiff as he set his face as a mask sneering superiority.

"Enter," he said, and his stomach turned: he had dreaded this.

The Heads of House entered and took the seats ranged before the Headmaster's desk. No-one offered him the pleasantries of greetings or enquiries about holidays, the type of conversation of which he had always been dismissive before. Now he felt the sharpness of its absence – one didn't exchange pleasantries with a murderer. They waited for him to speak.

"Good afternoon," he said silkily and slowly, fixing each with his gimlet-eyed glare. "You are the designated Heads of House. The Ministry has decreed you should stay in post, even with of your – ah – suspect allegiances." Snape caught and held Minerva's furious gaze. "It has been decided that both parents and students alike will appreciate the continuity whilst everyone becomes accustomed to the changes."

Snape lifted his chin with studied arrogance. "It will be a very different regime, I assure you. More disciplined. Less flippant. I will not tolerate disregard for the rules as my predecessor did." He heard Minerva draw in a sharp breath of offence. He fixed his attention on her once more. "From staff or students. The fine traditions of wizardry and witchcraft will be upheld. We will teach our magical youth to be proud of their inheritance and and of their blood."

Snape noted how the Heads of House exchanged furtive glances with each other, even Slughorn. It was exactly what he wanted. They needed to work together to protect their charges. As painful as it might be, they must view him and all he stood for as the enemy. He wanted to galvanise them into mistrust of him for this was how he would work to undermine his own regime. He would suggest – expect – order – all the things he wanted them to scrutinise and undermine. As sure as night followed day, they would look to sabotage the will of the murderer of their beloved Headmaster.

"Blood, is it, Severus?" clipped Minerva, standing, her own back ramrod straight, her lips tautened as if the very sight of Snape disgusted her – as it assuredly did. Filius eyed Snape shrewdly, watching every gesture and nuance. Pomona was wide-eyed, almost stricken to receive the harsh glare to which Snape subjected her. Slughorn's gaze never left Snape as he spoke, as if he weighed and measured the quantum of Snape's words like the ingredients of a potion.

"We're not here for your convenience, Severus, I assure you. Or to peddle the blood filth of your Master," snapped Minerva. "Oh, the Ministry may have bulled and threatened each of us, but make no mistake that I came back to protect the children - _of all Houses_ – from you and your _Master's_ depredations!"

"Be careful, Minerva, what you say. I will, of course, report all you say to my Master. I'm sure you wouldn't wish to draw his _personal_ attention to yourself. What would your poor Gryffindors do then – poor things?"

His tone was deadly and low, his eyes intense. As much as it cut him to the quick to see the intense hatred and – something else – betrayal, yes – in his former friends' eyes, they each had to believe he was the Dark Lord's man. Anything else would be suicide. It was vital.

"Now then," he continued, turning away from Minerva as if she were unimportant. "As much fun as it may be to bandy words with you, I hope I have impressed upon you the seriousness with which breach of the regime's rules will be viewed. Transgression will be punished – most severely."

"Severus!" Slughorn said, clearly shocked by the threatening tone. Snape held up a hand to silence him.

"Professor Snape – _if you please_."

With that, he knew he severed their last link. Not the child they had each taught. Not the colleague with whom they had shared banter, social evenings or any camaraderie. There must be no pleas to his former persona.

Each Head glared at him. He fancied he saw a glimmer of hardness now in Pomona's eyes which had not been there before. It was all to the good.

"Now we understand each other, to our actual business." Snape flicked his wand and the timetable parchments distributed themselves between the Heads. Minerva sat once more.

"As you undoubtedly know," said Snape, affecting a tone of complete boredom, "we have two new appointments this year. For the post of Muggle Studies -"

"What happened to Charity?" The point-blank nature of the question from Minerva caught Snape off-guard momentarily.

"She resigned. I believe that was reported in _The Daily Prophet_."

"Is that another euphemism for murder nowadays, Severus?" It was Filius now.

Snape stared at him, but Filius did not break his own sharp-eyed gaze. A gasp escaped Pomona.

"How could you, Severus?" hissed Minerva, her voice thick with emotion. "We were all colleagues. Friends. Is your loyalty to that … that monster so complete? Well, I suppose it must be since you slaughtered Albus!" she spat with venom, her eyes darting to the portrait of Dumbledore for support, but the portrait slumbered on.

"Enough!" barked Snape. "You will not question me that way again! Professor Burbage has gone. Alecto Carrow will be teaching in her place."

"A thug! A Muggle-killer! Have you taken leave of your senses! This is what Hogwarts is reduced to! I suppose Defence will be taught by Vol -"

Snape cast the Silencing Spell on Minerva before she could activate the Taboo, although surely she had been warned by the Order?

"Do not speak his name!" Snape said menacingly, his eyes boring into her own. Then he lifted the spell. "It's Dark Arts now, Minerva," he said smoothly. "The teacher will be Amycus Carrow."

"Dark Arts! Teaching Dark Arts to children. Surely, you can't mean …" Pomona tried to reason, but Snape cut across her repressively.

"Furthermore, the Carrows will also be in charge of discipline. You would do well to advise your charges that neither the Carrows nor I will have any tolerance for the lax discipline that previously reigned here."

Minerva spluttered in outrage, but Snape had to reinforce this one lesson, so they in turn would reinforce with their students just who would be meting out punishments and just how severe those would be. He had to banish the notion of midnight excursions or adventures or frivolity. Safety and survival was the best Snape could hope for the students of Hogwarts. And he could live with their opprobrium – now he had Lupin to console him.

oooOOOooo

"Oh Severus," sighed Lupin, as they sat together as Snape recounted the meeting. "If they knew the truth, they would do everything they could to support you. I know they would. And surely you know they can be trusted?"

"And if any of them were to let the truth slip? Or be questioned by Death Eaters under Veritaserum or under the Cruciatus? Don't you see? Their belief in me as a traitor must be absolute then all around them will believe the same."

"And next week you have to go through the same thing when the rest of the staff return." Lupin shook his head slowly, his expression was so inexpressibly tender, as he held Snape's hands in his own. "How did Albus think you would have coped with this alone? What was he thinking, marooning you like that?"

"His eye was on the end result."

"And don't we know it! Even if the result is the destruction of other lives," Lupin said bitterly.

"I suppose – I suppose he saw the downfall of the Dark Lord as setting everyone free. Whilst he lives, none of us can be live freely, Muggle-borns or others who don't believe in blood purity. Especially, people like us – you and me – can have no real life."

"You're making excuses for him," said Lupin, and then he let out a soft laugh. "I thought that was my job."

"Sometimes, I think I understand him. Then, I become so angry at the way we both have been used in this. But I don't doubt for a minute, Remus, that we need to fulfil Albus's plans if we want a life together. And that's what I want – more than anything."

"You're right, Severus. So what more can we do? I've been thinking about Muggle-borns. Is there any way we can get their identities before the Ministry does? Then maybe we could help them escape – go abroad perhaps."

"I don't think I can get access to the Ministry records. At the moment, the Ministry and Death Eaters are relying on the false reassurances in The Prophet to encourage people to register with the Commission voluntarily. Of course, it's a ruse to get them to come in. There'll be hearings but the results are foregone conclusions. Soon enough, the Muggle-borns will realise a trip to the Ministry is a one-way ticket to Azkaban and they'll refuse to register. Then … then they'll hunt them down."

The two men sat in thought for a while, then Lupin turned to Snape, excitedly.

"There's one way to identify Muggle-borns, perhaps the most vulnerable Muggle-borns of all – the children."

Snape cottoned on immediately. "The Quill!" he exclaimed. "But only Minerva has access to it."

"Even better," said Lupin conspiratorially. "Using your double bluff method: you demand access to the Quill. I'm sure she'll do everything in her power to ensure you can't have it."

A snort of laughter escaped Snape as he was caught up in the plan. "Straight after, you call an Order meeting as a matter of urgency because … say ... you've heard the real plan for Muggle-borns from the running wolves and the Order needs to determine how to identify Muggle-borns quickly. Minerva will offer that information to you in a heart beat!" added Snape.

"Exactly! I'm sure each of the Order members must have contacts who can help to smuggle the Muggle-borns to safety, out of the country, if necessary – like the freedom railways of Muggle history."

Snape looked quizzical.

"Not a literal railway. A system for moving Muggle-borns secretly – safe house to safe house," explained Lupin as his fingers curled around Snape's. Then he smiled at Snape – a smile of such depth and warmth – and of understanding.

"We'll do it in remembrance of Lily," said Lupin softly.

Snape's breath caught with the fire of possibilities that Lupin had just lit in his mind.

"Yes - for Lily."

* * *

**.**

**A/N:** _The history of the farmhouse is told in 'Old Friend' (of course)._

 


	110. Laying the Foundations

"How did you get this information?" demanded Minerva, staring at the list of passageways Snape told her he intended to seal.

"From Dumbledore – of course."

"He would never give you this information! He would never jeopardise his students!"

"He has no choice. You know that, Minerva. All former headmasters must assist the incumbent of the office."

Snape saw her jaw work in anger. He changed tactics.

"And why should the sealing of these passages jeopardise the students, may I ask? I would have thought such passageways could only be used for mischief. You surely wouldn't want to encourage our students to break curfew or take unauthorised trips to Hogsmeade, I'm sure," said Snape reasonably. "Not when there could be … severe repercussions."

"Very well." She regarded him coldly.

"After we have sealed these, I require access to the Magical Quill."

"Invitations to the school are the purview of the Deputy Head. The Headmaster has no call on the Magical Quill." Minerva's chin rose defiantly.

"You dare question me?"

"I am not questioning you, Severus. I am merely stating the lore of Hogwarts. Convention places the responsibility for - and therefore access to - the Magical Quill with me – as Deputy Head."

Snape's nostrils flared, but inwardly he could have awarded Minerva house points for keeping her cool and quoting lore at him.

"And if I remove you as Deputy Head?" he said menacingly.

"Where will your precious continuity be then, _Headmaster_?" she responded tartly.

"We shall see," said Snape with asperity, as if thwarted. "The passageways."

He turned on his heel for her to follow him, satisfied that only a small prompt from Lupin would be necessary after that.

oooOOOooo

When Snape reported the sealing of the passageways to the Dark Lord, he did not tell him of the Magical Quill. It was one thing for him to neglect to pursue it but he couldn't count on one of the Carrows not to take it upon themselves to try to obtain the information from Minerva. He had to count on the Dark Lord's ignorance of magic outside that of his own interests.

"Well done, Severus," said the Dark Lord. "You know, there was a time when I offered to teach at Hogwarts. Did Dumbledore ever tell you?"

"No, my Lord," replied Snape, outwardly calm, but genuinely shocked.

"Oh yes," said the Dark Lord, quite conversationally. "I could have taught them such magic. Such magic! But Dumbledore was such a simpleton about magic – so very closed-minded. He could have been great, you know – if he hadn't been so limited … by _love_."

oooOOOooo

"He wanted access to the castle, I am sure," said the portrait. "I believe he looked for a hiding place."

"For himself?" asked Snape.

"In a manner of speaking."

"Don't speak in riddles, man!" snapped Snape.

"How droll, Severus," the portrait said, with a chuckle.

"You are infuriating."

oooOOOooo

"What does he mean by that?" asked Lupin, as he arranged the clothes Tippy handed to him from the packages she had brought from their flat.

"Sometimes, I think he delights in annoying me, playing his games. Why he just won't say that he cannot tell me, I don't know." Snape threw himself in the bedroom chair as he watched Lupin hang up his clothes in his wardrobe. He smiled, his irritation forgotten as the room became theirs rather than just his alone. His pleasant reverie was interrupted as Lupin spoke again.

"There's so much I don't understand, Severus. When you think what Albus allowed – not just allowed to happen to us, but the deaths, the torture – why did he not duel You-Know-Who just as he duelled Grindelwald? Why did he leave one so long, and the other all together?"

Snape sighed. He really wasn't at all sure what he should tell Lupin or really how much he understood himself. Dumbledore had always kept him in the dark.

"As to the first, I really don't know. As for the second, I believe … I believe Albus considered that the Dark Magic which prevented the Dark Lord's death in 1981 is still active, keeping him tethered to life. Such a duel might have just left us as we are now, or even ended up in Albus's death or incapacity. We couldn't afford to lose Albus." Snape paused as he saw the look of incredulity on Lupin's face.

"But we have lost him. I have no doubt that we face arts as Dark as they can be, but don't you think Albus should have been inclusive of us, preparing us to carry on his work, rather than trying to play us like pawns?" asked Lupin bitterly.

Snape rose from his chair to stand by Lupin and rested a hand comfortingly on his shoulder.

"I don't believe he ever meant to hurt us, Remus. I sometimes wonder if he was just so much older, so remote, that he was just completely divorced from our reality …"

"It's no excuse for what he did," said Lupin, his voice now thick, and Snape knew Lupin meant what he had done to them. "How do we know he won't try to separate us again. You trust him still?"

Snape inhaled sharply, understanding more than Lupin realised. Lupin had trusted Dumbledore for so many years as one would a father – implicitly and completely. Over these last few years his eyes had been opened to more of what Snape knew of Dumbledore – the tactician, the master of magic, the general prepared to sacrifice even those he cared about. But even knowing all of this, Snape knew they shared the same goal in the destruction of the Dark Lord, and he had made his peace with Dumbledore.

"We won't allow it. And yes. I trust him still. But I don't follow him blindly. Not any more."

Lupin searched Snape's eyes as if to find the truth of his declaration and then exhaled heavily and nodded. Snape squeezed his hand.

"Now, I've managed to persuade the Dark Lord that I should remain here to keep an eye on the staff when they return so I hope he won't call me too often. But until then, I have to take my turn guarding Grimmauld Place." Snape reached inside the wardrobe for his light summer cloak.

"They know where it is? I mean … Harry's in there!"

"Well, they know from Bellatrix and Narcissa roughly where it is, but they still can't see it. Don't worry. Potter, Weasley and Granger know to Apparate precisely on the door step, don't they?"

Lupin nodded but his face was ashen.

"Does Vo – You-Know-Who know Albus was the Secret Keeper."

"No. He thinks the Secret Keeper still lives. If he ever knew that I am now a Secret Keeper, together with every member of the Order, my life would be worth very little."

Lupin's hand clasped his.

"He might use Veritaserum on you -"

"I carry the antidote with me. And perhaps you should too. And maybe another antidote ..."

He watched the realisation dawn on Lupin.

"To Amortentia, you mean?"

"Yes. There will be times you will have to see her. I'll take no risks. Really, you should call a meeting as soon as possible now I've primed Minerva."

Lupin nodded, almost as if chastised. That small flicker of worry worked at Snape's gut. He was rushing Lupin – into meetings with Tonks and with the Order. But what else could he do? They simply did not have the luxury of time!

oooOOOooo

Wrapped in his cloak with the hood up on a warm August evening made Snape feel nothing short of ridiculous as he pretended not to see number twelve Grimmauld Place. He fixed his eyes exactly mid-point on the building, knowing that both Yaxley and Macnair would see nothing but the building line between number eleven and number thirteen. It was pointless work, but preferable to being part of Bellatrix's torture parties. He was grateful there was an alternative.

It was also an opportunity to milk Yaxley and Macnair for information about their work at the Ministry. Both were eager to show off the power and influence they now could wield, puffing their chests out with their own self-importance as they bragged about the Muggle-borns being 'invited' to the Ministry and their wands being confiscated. They were put on trial – those trials being foregone conclusions. Macnair revelled in his occupation of gaoler responsible for their transport to Azkaban. Except – of course – for those to whom Death Eaters might have taken a shine.

Snape's half smile was frozen was Macnair regaled them with stories of how he choose his 'special cases' for his own brand of entertainment, or how Greyback had carte blanche to keep those he 'snatched' if they interested him.

As he relayed it all to Lupin on his return, they agreed that they could no longer delay. Lupin sent owls to all members of the Order to meet.

oooOOOooo

Snape couldn't deny that he had seen Lupin off through the Floo with trepidation. And yet, he knew that Lupin's apprehension was worse.

It was Lupin who would have to face the Order – people he had known, liked and respected for years - with each of them believing he had abandoned his pregnant wife. His husband's blue eyes betrayed his anxiety, even though he tried to cover it. Snape had wished he could accompany him to give him strength. Another aspect of their relationship denied to him.

Instead, he brewed Wolfsbane for Lupin, a brew intricate enough to stop his own mind conjuring visions of Tonks tricking Lupin back to her avaricious arms. And yet, even as his mind was occupied, his stomach churned with every passing hour Lupin was away, and as soon as the potion was set to brew, tortured imaginings seeped through his concentration, breached by his own insecurity.

It was past one in the morning when the Floo flared and Lupin stepped through, looking pale but resolute. Relief flooded through Snape. He hadn't allowed himself to vocalise the fear but realised then he had thought there was a chance that Lupin might not come home.

But he was there, and he folded Snape into his arms, holding on to him tightly, his large hand splayed across the small of Snape's back to hold him closely to himself as he kissed him greedily then broke the kiss to lead him to the settee to talk.

"No," breathed Snape. "Don't stop."

Snape had thought he would want every detail of the meeting, but he didn't. Not yet, at least. He wanted the reassurance of his husband's body and clearly Lupin wanted the same as they began to kiss again even as their hands speedily undressed each other, finally lowering themselves naked onto the hearth rug, lips and hands pressing to the bodies in passion.

Lupin lifted his body onto his hands to gaze at Snape underneath him, his eyes dark and intense, as his fingers prepared him. Snape found he needed very little and pulled Lupin towards him, wanting that ultimate closeness was soon as he could as he wrapped his legs around Lupin, his husband's face eager and hungry for him.

"My Severus," breathed Lupin as he pushed into Snape whose neck arched as he was filled. Snape let out a long deep moan in pleasure at the feel of Lupin's erection inside him and in anticipation of the pleasure to come. They kissed, deep and penetrating, as they slowly made exquisite love, each trying hard to ensure that every part of the other was touched, cherished and adored and they moved together slowly, deeply and achingly. Lupin Kissed his Claiming bites – Kissed them to intensify their feelings, building Snape's sensations to such a pitch that nerves seemed to flame with every touch as Lupin rocked his hips, each thrust deeper and firmer than the last, until their orgasms burst from them, emotional and powerful, leaving both men without breath or speech as they stroked each other's face.

It took some time before they disengaged from each other, although still holding each other lightly in the other's arms until both were ready to discuss the Order meeting.

oooOOOooo

_Legilimens!_

_Lupin had ensured he was first in the private room at The Hog's Head. Snape felt Lupin's stomach churning just as Snape's had at this same time as he had brewed. He felt Lupin's apprehension of seeing Tonks and her parents without Snape, of seeing all the Order members and what they must now be thinking of him. He paced for a while and decided upon sitting so he would look relaxed and unintimidating._

_At this point, Tonks and her parents arrived. Lupin's stomach lurched sickeningly but he greeted them with an inoffensive small smile._

"Homenum revelio!" _incanted Tonks, her wand held high, searching the room. "Is he hiding in the shadows, watching us?" she hissed, her hair a spiky scarlet._

_"He is always with me, Dora," replied Lupin quietly as two fingers touched his heart. The Auror looked stricken and placed one hand on her own barely swelling belly but Lupin looked away. Snape felt an anger in his husband, a smouldering resentment as she drew attention to … to what? Then Snape felt it so strongly … to that which she had stolen from him. It cut Lupin that she carried his child – she had had no right to have taken that from him. It cut him deeply. He couldn't shield that pain from Snape._

"I'm sorry, Severus. I know I have no right to feel sorry for myself."

"Yes, you do – for yourself, and for us. You're right. She stole a dream from us."

Somehow, it made Snape feel so much closer to Lupin that he shared this revulsion for her act of treachery, but also his hopelessness that it could not be undone. Tonks was pregnant with Lupin's child and both the man and the wolf could never hurt the mother or child. Snape's attention returned to the scene unfolding in front of him.

_At that moment, Kingsley arrived with Bill and Fleur Weasley. The greetings were cordial enough but Lupin, and through him, Snape, saw the sympathetic looks Fleur cast towards Tonks, who stood with her parents. Fleur squeezed her husband's hand and then broke away to speak in hushed tones to Tonks, as Andromeda sent him looks of undisguised loathing. Lupin looked away then Bill sat next to him._

_"Remus."_

_"Hello Bill."_

_"How are you?"_

_"Not too bad. Are you and Fleur well?"_

_Bill smiled, his once-handsome smile rendered crude by Greyback's disfigurement of it._

_"Yes. We're well." Bill helped himself to a Butterbeer. "Remus? How are you and Tonks?"_

_Lupin inhaled, keeping his voice measured and his expression bland._

_"We're no longer together, Bill."_

_Bill took a sharp intake of breath._

_"Mum told me. I thought … I thought it couldn't be right. Remus, you know she's expecting your baby, don't you?" he whispered urgently._

_"Yes, Bill. I do. Please don't ask any more."_

_"Is this about Snape? You know what he is. He tried to kill you!" Bill's tone was not accusing, but he spoke to Lupin as if he were somehow misguided or – perhaps – bewitched._

_"Bill. Don't," whispered Lupin, a warning edge to his voice._

_"Your child, Remus. How can you leave your …_

_"Stop it, Bill. You have no idea what happened. Now please! Let's just get on with this meeting."_

_Bill held up a hand in submission, his expression concerned, clearly not wanting to upset his friend, but convinced his friend was wrong. Snape felt the pain in Lupin's heart and knew this exchange with Bill could be the best that he could expect tonight._

_Minerva then arrived, talking animatedly with Arthur and Molly and eventually the rest of the members arrived and Lupin called the meeting to order._

_As they had discussed, Lupin told the meeting that his informants had told him that the hearings for the Muggle-born Registration Commission were a sham – an excuse to divest them of their wands and then imprison them in Azkaban. The meeting was in uproar._

_"They keep sending notices to Dad," said Tonks, as Ted nodded and Andromeda blanched at this side._

_"Well, he mustn't go! That's all there is to it," insisted Minerva._

_"I think it won't be long before it becomes compulsory," said Ted._

_"I've been thinking," said Lupin. "We need to find a way to identify the Muggle-borns and get as many to safety as we can."_

_"I can help you there," said Minerva. Snape wanted to punch the air – right on cue! Minerva went on to detail how the Magical Quill would have the names and addresses of all Muggle-born witches and wizards at birth and at the date of their invitation to Hogwarts. Muggle-borns were highlighted so that she, as deputy headmistress, could visit each family to introduce the concept of the magical world. Thereafter, they should be able to trace Muggle-borns through Ministry records._

_"I can help with that," offered Arthur._

_"What about you, Nymphadora?" asked Minerva. "Would you be able to access these records as an Auror?"_

_"I'll certainly try but I'm being watched because of …" her eyes flicked to Lupin and then to her father, "well – you know."_

_"Best leave that with me then," said Arthur, with a paternal smile. "Best not draw attention to yourself in your condition."_

_It was obvious Molly didn't like Arthur offering his services so freely, but she gave Tonks a sympathetic smile which froze when her eyes met Lupin's. Snape felt Lupin's hurt that the woman who had also been so caring of him over the past few years had grown so cold to him. But he also felt Lupin's hopelessness that he would ever be able to explain why he had left his new wife without telling anyone about Snape himself. He would endure the opprobrium to keep Snape safe. In his own way, Lupin was as consummate a dissembler as Snape was himself._

_"Excellent," said Kingsley. "I'm sorry I cannot help there." Kingsley shrugged, but all the Order members knew he was now on the run from the Ministry himself. He turned to Lupin. "What are your thoughts?"_

_"Safe houses," said Lupin, feeling relieved to be starting to plan. "We use our contacts to set up routes to places of safety, out of the country, if necessary. Ports. Airports. I think we should keep them away from wizarding travel like Portkeys, and, as Muggle-borns, they'll be used to Muggle modes of transport."_

_There were murmurs of approval._

_"What about those contacts in America we used before?" asked Tonks. "Weren't they Dumbledore's contacts?"_

_Lupin's stomach lurched again, but luckily it was Bill who spoke._

_"No. They were Snape's Apothecarial contacts."_

_Lupin saw Tonks's look of engaged enquiry become hard and shrewd. Didn't that show her how Snape had helped in ways she had not realised?_

_"Well, they're out of the question then," said Minerva with finality. "Anything to do with Severus can no longer be trusted." There was an emotional tremor in Minerva's voice but then she coughed and recovered her equilibrium. "We all have contacts. We must begin a campaign to get in touch with our friends and acquaintances to begin this work. Remus, will you co-ordinate this?"_

_Lupin nodded._ _"Of course. I'm also going to visit the Light werewolf packs for assistance," chimed in Lupin, noting how Andromeda's head shot up but he did not look at her._

_"Werewolves? Why should we trust werewolves?" she asked stridently. The atmosphere in the room became frigid and the Weasley twins and Bill shuffled uncomfortably in their seats as Kingsley opened his mouth to remonstrate, but Lupin spoke first with a quiet but cutting barb._

_"_ You _don't have to trust werewolves, Andromeda. Pure-bloods will be quite safe, after all."_

_"Now see here …" began Ted as many at the table exchanged worried glances at the distrust evident in their ranks and Minerva rapped the table loudly._

_"We need all the assistance that anyone can provide. Thank you, Remus. And we must all remember that if we are divided, You-Know-Who will conquer us all the more quickly." She turned her stern gaze on each of Lupin, Tonks and Andromeda separately. "We work together – just as Albus would want us to."_

_With that, each of the Order members began to brain-storm through their contacts and places of safety and gradually a plan began to take shape._

_When the meeting drew to a close, Tonks gave Lupin one look of longing, but then she and her parents were the first to leave, for which Lupin was grateful as he made his way to Minerva, hanging back as the Order members said their goodbyes, not all of them including him. Lupin mastered himself – he was used to rejection after all. Snape could not deny how much Lupin feeling this rejection of those who had been his friends hurt him – it hurt him because it mirrored his own pain that barely anyone cared for him any more, not even as a colleague. Just this one man loved him._

_Minerva smiled at Lupin. There was a sadness to the smile as if she was disappointed in him, but no real rancour._

_"How are things at the school," asked Lupin, "with Severus as headmaster?"_

_Minerva jaw tightened and she launched into a tirade about Snape's deception of Dumbledore and all of the staff. She confided in Lupin her terror for the pupils once the Carrows were put in charge of discipline and how she had no confidence that Snape would rein in their worst excesses._

_"He is You-Know-Who's man through and through! How could Albus have been so wrong, Remus?" She huffed and pushed back at her severe hairstyle. "At least he keeps out of our way. We're so beneath him, he doesn't even dine with us. Not once! Well, it's all to the good, I suppose. At least this way, we as Heads of House will be able to speak freely – I suppose until terms starts. Or the Carrows turn up. Heaven knows what he does all by himself in the Headmaster's office! More plans to make the school like a prison, I suppose."_

_"What do you mean?" asked Lupin, hoping he was leading her to the information she needed to impart to him._

_"Well," she looked at him shrewdly. "I expect you probably know that there were always some secret passages out of Hogwarts."_

_"Well, I certainly knew about the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack," he replied lightly. Minerva rolled her eyes. Lupin laughed softly. "Yes, we knew of other passages. I'm surprised you do though. I would have thought you would have closed them."_

_"Only the Headmaster has that authority. Godric knows why Albus never closed them. I always assumed he didn't want to interfere with the fabric of the school. But_ this _Headmaster has exercised the authority. Oh yes!" She crossed her arms for emphasis. "He's sealed them all. Permanently! And I can't help feeling that it's to imprison the children."_

_Lupin frowned and then asked Minerva if she knew which passages and she recited them by rote. Lupin's face broke into a mischievous smile._

_"Not all," said Lupin. "I know of one other."_

_"Dare I ask how you might know?" asked Minerva, with a half smile._

_"Probably best not to tarnish your fond memories of me as a good student," quipped Lupin. "But there is another which goes to Hogsmeade and perhaps it could be made useful. Will you leave that with me to give it some thought?"_

_Minerva nodded. "Very well." She gently placed her hand on Lupin's forearm. "I hope everything else sorts itself out, Remus."_

_Then it was Lupin's turn to nod, but Minerva did not press the matter further, giving him an understanding smile as she too left the pub for the return walk to Hogwarts._

_Lupin watched her go and then turned to speak to Aberforth._

"Has he agreed?" asked Snape urgently, breaking the connection.

"Took some doing. He was quite reluctant to get involved at all when I first started talking to him. But he eventually agreed. Said he'd consider which room would be the safest to open the passageway into and let me know."

"Good," Snape nodded. "I'm sure there is time to convince him.

oooOOOooo

Snape came awake and through the window Lupin had made he saw it was dawn. Lupin wasn't in bed with him.

Silently, Snape left the bed and went to the bedroom door. Lupin sat at the table, nursing a mug of tea, his head resting on one hand, his expression one of such sadness that it hurt Snape just to see it.

He made his way over to Lupin who looked up as he approached and gave him a crooked smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Knut for your thoughts," said Severus as Lupin pulled Snape onto his lap and stroked his nose across Snape's skin.

"Sometimes, the unfairness of what was taken just upsets me and I don't seem to be able to shake it off." Lupin looked at Snape apologetically, and Snape understood immediately. He had already felt that thought earlier.

"That she carries your child?"

Lupin nodded.

"And I wish, Severus … I wish with all my heart you hadn't seen that memory. I wish I could take that away from your thoughts of me."

Snape heaved a sigh.

"I won't pretend I don't regret that the child was conceived, or seeing its conception. But I don't begrudge the child life either. I'm not that man any more." Snape kissed the top of Lupin's head. "But I don't deny my part in it either." He stroked Lupin's hair. "I thought she would care for you." He snorted at his own foolishness. "I never thought she would take advantage of you that way."

"How can people be so different from what you think you know? I thought Dora was our friend … my friend after Dumbledore Obliviated her. And Andromeda? Sirius adored her. If he knew how she behaves …" Lupin stopped and looked sheepishly at Snape. "Sorry. I'm sure you don't want to hear about any of this."

Snape carded Lupin's hair.

"I want to hear all of it. Even Black. And for the record, I agree. I think he would have been shocked by all of it. Hufflepuffs behaving like Slytherins. Slytherins behaving like Gryffindors!"

Lupin lifted his head away from Snape's neck, his eyebrows raised in enquiry.

Snape smiled. His distraction had worked. He told Lupin how Narcissa had been 'given' to Snape as a reward for killing Dumbledore, quickly moving on to Draco's storming of Narcissa's bedroom to defend her honour.

"How chivalrous. We might make a Gryffindor of Draco yet," said Lupin.

Snape warmed to the gentle smile on Lupin's face and traced his lips.

"Barging in without thinking it through? Foolish and unthinking? I suppose you're right," Snape teased. "Of course, Lucius now hates me even more and he can never know the truth that Draco and Narcissa slept that night and the ones that followed as I watched over them. And that is all that happened."

"Narcissa could show him the memory," suggested Lupin.

"Lucius wouldn't trust it." Snape shook his head. "So many years of infidelity has to take its toll. He will go to his grave always wondering if the dirty little half-blood he degraded so often defiled his wife. In so many ways, Remus, that gives me more pleasure than a real violation ever could. Do you hate me for that? For still wanting revenge after all these years?"

"No, Severus. I admire you all the more for not taking your revenge out on Lucius's wife. For saving the woman and her boy." He pressed a kiss to Snape's throat.

"Why should I wish to rape anyone? Especially the woman who saved my life?"

"Lesser men might have done it to be revenged on their attacker. It's not as if you hadn't already paid your debt. You gave her your Unbreakable Vow."

"Yes, a life for a life. Albus and I had already agreed the detail. The Vow was merely ancillary to that. It quelled Bellatrix's suspicions and kept Narcissa on side. It was actually quite fortuitous."

"But if you hadn't made the plan with Albus and she'd asked for the Vow – what then?"

"I'd have been in trouble, I think," replied Snape with a small smile of his own as he stood and held out his hand to lead Lupin back to bed.

oooOOOooo

Snape stood in the entrance hall, his hands behind his back, his most severe expression on his countenance. Alecto Carrow, sneering, stood to his right and Amycus Carrow to his left. The rest of the faculty returned to school on this day and Snape greeted each in turn, assuring them that his tenure as headmaster would be straightforward provided that they understood the chain of command and observed the new rules.

Each teacher acknowledged the speech, clearly already aware of the new regime as none raised any issue with him. Snape had no doubt that each Head of House had already been in touch with the other teachers and had begun to undermine him subtly.

As the last of the teachers made their ways to their own quarters, the Carrows smirked at Snape conspiratorially, little knowing that the smirk Snape returned was at them, not with them.

* * *

 


	111. Reunion with the Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes from Chapter 12 and 13 of DH are in bold and © J.K. Rowling

The return of the staff meant that Snape had to assume the mantle of Headmaster more fully, attending the communal dinners in the Great Hall and being available in the Headmaster's office. Even if Snape begrudged the time away from Lupin, Lupin himself delighted in Snape's safety because the presence of the staff meant Snape was spared regular participation in the Dark Lord's rituals and the Death Eaters' murderous excursions. Snape still attended upon the Dark Lord under the guise of reporting and obtaining instructions but, in reality, he attended to gain every scrap of information he could for Lupin to pass on to the Order.

The members of the Order were sending their suggestions and proposals to Lupin, using The Hog's Head as a collection point. Aberforth had accepted this without question, even giving Lupin a drink on the house for his 'marital woes'. Lupin made free use of the school owls through Snape. At this stage, Snape wasn't concerned that the Ministry would monitor the owls. He was a most honoured Death Eater after all, and was – for the time being, at least – above suspicion.

Lupin worked hard to put together various escape routes to major ports and airports. They knew the Floo network would be monitored and not every wizard or witch could Apparate, especially if they had children with them. They were accumulating volunteers along the routes to escort escapees by broom or side-along Apparition.

Certain factions of Gringotts goblins who were set on maintaining their independence from the Dark Lord were working with Bill to ensure that Muggle currency would be easily available for exchange of Galleons or other treasure. Lupin noted with a certain cynicism that their interest rate was prohibitive, but there was little to be done about that in these necessitous times. All they could do was to ensure that the safe houses had solid protective enchantments, access to travel and money to facilitate it for those who (unlike the Finch-Fletchleys who Kingsley had escorted to their plane for the United States) did not have the financial resources to flee. Who knew how long the goblins' co-operation would last as the Dark Lord's stranglehold tightened?

Lupin, Bill, Kingsley and Ted had all been corresponding with contacts abroad, in Ireland, France, Holland and North America to find safe passage and refuge for Muggle-borns and their families.

"Ted himself will have to go," said Snape as he reviewed the lists. "He's such a high profile Muggle-born. Bella's itching to prune her family tree. You're her target but Ted's special to her. He was the one who broke the Black sorority, after all. He has to run."

"He won't leave Andromeda," replied Lupin, spreading out the scraps of paper to form visual links. "And she won't leave the country. Pure-bloods aren't well-travelled like Muggles and Muggle-borns. They're too insular to live amongst foreigners."

"It's high time she put aside being a small-minded pure-blood, don't you think? She should go with him. Start a new life." Snape paused and looked at Lupin significantly. "Take their daughter with them perhaps," he added quietly.

That pained expression in Lupin's eyes seemed to deepen, but he nodded and then dropped his face into his hand.

"What kind of coward am I, Severus, that I want to see her leave the country? But I can't let her take my child with her!"

Snape quickly drew up a chair and sat next to Lupin.

"You are not a coward, Remus! It isn't cowardice to seek distance and respite. But no, the child – I just don't know what we can do about that."

And he didn't. It was so early on and they really hadn't discussed what would be done about the child Lupin had unwillingly fathered but to whom, Snape knew, he would be biologically drawn as time went on. What's more, he knew that Tonks knew it too. He had no doubt that she would use the child to get at Lupin – unless, perhaps, they could break the Lydiard Curse and for that – they needed Idris.

oooOOOooo

Lupin and Kingsley had arranged to visit several safe houses to talk to the volunteers they had so far. He would be gone for the day. Snape took the opportunity to remove the Sword from the safety of secret recess in their bedroom and replace it behind Dumbledore's portrait as he had agreed with Dumbledore so long ago.

"Thank you, Severus," said the portrait.

"For what, exactly?"

"For trusting me still. Remus does not."

Snape turned to the portrait, his expression incredulous.

"No. He doesn't. I wonder if you have any idea what was done to him by the woman you found to keep him _safe_."

Before the portrait could answer, the small silver bell sounded by Fawkes's now-vacant perch, alerting him that the password had been used.

Snape seated himself behind the desk and steepled his fingers, his most severe expression on his face.

The effect was rather undermined as his eyebrows shot up in surprise to find Irma Pince advancing on him with **a glossy book** in her elderly, claw-like hands.

"What is the meaning of this, Headmaster?" the librarian demanded. "Why have you procured such a monstrosity for my library? I won't have it, I tell you. I will not have it!"

Irma slapped the book down on Snape's desk.

"That awful woman … that I would even countenance this tripe – this drivel – this dross - in our library! Well, I shan't accept it, Headmaster. You will have to hand me over to your Dark Lord before I accept that!"

She crossed her arms and raised her chin melodramatically, beady eyes boring into him through black spectacles. Snape stifled an alarming urge to laugh at the straight-laced librarian's declaration and bit his lower lip as he stretched out a hand to the luridly-coloured book in front of him as he read **the curly, green writing across** Dumbledore's **hat** :

**"The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore"**

**by Rita Skeeter**

"What makes you think I would indulge either students or staff in this sensationalist claptrap?" asked Snape softly, taking in the portrait of Dumbledore on the front cover, wondering just how much vitriol coated the pages from this woman's venomous penmanship.

"I assumed -"

"- wrongly, Irma. You assumed wrongly," said Snape repressively.

Snape opened the book and found a handwritten note in acid green ink on the title plate.

_I always make a gift of my works on the late, if not great, headmasters of my dear alma mater. It is with all due humility that I think of my works alongside those of the great magical authors of our age._

_Rita Skeeter. August 1997_

Snape stared.

_Of all the nerve!_

"I've never seen her books on our library shelves. Are they there?"

"Certainly not!" huffed Irma.

"Neither shall this one be. Hogwarts is a school of magic, not scandal-mongering. Leave it with me, Irma. You may go."

Irma's face became more pinched at the manner of her dismissal and she inclined her head and said nothing more as she bustled from the room.

"So, I have achieved the pinnacle of fame, have I, Severus?" the portrait chuckled behind him. "Immortalised forever as 'an obsolete dingbat' no doubt."

"I don't think you'll find she's been that kind," said Snape as lurid and monstrous phrases in the blurb on the dust jacket leapt out at him.

_'… son of a notorious Muggle-killer …'_

_'… complicit in the suspicious death of his Squib sister …'_

_'… plotted with the infamous Grindelwald …'_

Snape's throat dried out as he read. _Surely, none of this can be true?_ he thought.

"You'll find her books over there," said Dumbledore, breaking Snape's concentration and pointing to a low shelf on one of the bookcases. "Needless to say, I didn't allow those into the library either."

Snape first Summoned the shimmering blood red tome from the shelf.

**"Armando Dippet: Master or Moron?"**

"Albus read excerpts to us now and again," said a thin and reedy voice to Dumbledore's left. Dippet barely smiled. It was clear it hadn't been a habit of his when he lived. "I never knew I was so interesting."

"You weren't then and you aren't now," said Phineas Nigellus, scornfully.

"I suggest, young Phineas, that would be the green-eyed monster speaking," interjected the portrait of Snape's own hero, Vindictus Viridian. "No such memento for you!" The two headmasters began heckling each other and Snape rolled his eyes.

"I think thou wouldst find mine own story enlightening," said a pretty voice Snape had not heard before, heavily accented in the tongue of Middle English. He craned his neck to read the legend to the portrait high up near the coving.

_Phyllida Spore_

"You too?"

"Indeed," rejoined Dumbledore. "I believe dear Phyllida's – ahem – biography is entitled, 'Headmistress Spore: Animal, Vegetable or Mineral?'" Dumbledore's portrait chuckled. "Perhaps, you too will be enshrined in populist prose one day, Severus. Perhaps, all head teachers should so aspire."

"Merlin forfend," grumbled Snape, as he stared, fascinated, at the photograph of the Dumbledore family – at the babe-in-arms – the sister Snape had never known Dumbledore had.

oooOOOooo

The next few days flew past as Lupin and Kingsley began to seek out Muggle-borns as Minerva supplied them with the latest names who had been due to start that September, being the most current addresses, so the youngest could be protected first. Even the pair of them working together, Lupin with his gentle approach and Kingsley with his innate authority, it would take some hours with the parents of each Muggle-born child to make them understand that dangers posed to them. Once these were completed, Minerva had compiled a list of those even younger, so they would not be betrayed by their accidental magic into the hands of Umbridge and her Muggle-born Registration Commission.

oooOOOooo

The day of the full moon dawned.

Even as Snape awoke, he felt a thrill of excitement right to his core. It had been months since he had spent the full moon with Lupin – months in which that woman had tried to take his place – his rightful place at Lupin's side. He couldn't believe now that he had allowed Dumbledore to do that to them – that he had handed over the healing balms to Tonks and, in that action, had handed over the well-being of the man he loved.

Snape bitterly regretted it.

Even as he watched Lupin sleeping, he hated that she had tried to insinuate herself by fair means and foul as this man's mate.

Snape pushed a lock of hair away from Lupin's face and drew a finger along his cheekbone. This time tomorrow, Lupin would be his again completely. A sharp thrill shot through Snape's body, startling him with its strength but also galvanising him.

He wondered what today would bring. Would they fall back into the pattern they had built over these years? He couldn't deny that his body yearned to be taken in the manner of the wolf – that demanding physicality that wrought such a catharsis in him.

And yet … and yet …

He wondered if Lupin, more withdrawn than he had ever known him, would try to suppress that part of his cursed nature – the nature Lupin blamed for their predicament so fully.

Snape was determined. He would fulfil his duties as quickly as possible today but he would ensure their special time of day – and the night – would be theirs.

oooOOOooo

Snape had left strict instructions with Minerva that he would be brewing and was not to be disturbed. The Carrows were similarly informed. Knowing, as they thought they did, that Snape used the full moon night to experiment with Potions for the Dark Lord, they did not query his instructions.

There were a few hours before moonrise and Snape made his way back to his old quarters with a mixture of trepidation and anticipation. He arrived to find the table set for dinner and Lupin dressed in the royal blue waistcoat and trousers he had worn for their bonding, waiting for him. Snape's gaze lingered on the form of his husband, on the curlicues encircling his upper arm, shown off by the waistcoat so perfectly.

To Snape, Lupin looked so handsome – so hopeful - it took Snape's breath away.

It wasn't yet that time of day that presaged the profound alteration in Lupin's personality – that change that Lupin loathed but Snape craved. Snape knew Lupin dressing for dinner was his way of suppressing his wolfish side - of demonstrating his civilised humanity, Bond over Claim.

Snape understood what Lupin wanted to demonstrate - his humanity. He also understood that this moon – their first moon together for five months was about reunion and – Snape hoped – renewal. More importantly than anything, Snape wanted Lupin to be comfortable – to trust him again and know that he, in turn, was trusted.

Lupin took Snape into his arms, kissing him gently then led him to the table. Clearly, pre-arranged, Tippy appeared with the starter as Lupin opened a bottle of Elf-made wine, smiling deliciously at Snape.

They tucked in, Snape noting the menu comprised all his own favourites, and Lupin talked, telling Snape the further progress with their plans. Lupin was as eager and nervous as if they had just begun courting. It warmed Snape to know that even still Lupin did not take this night – and all that it meant to them - for granted. Even so, Lupin's nerves got the better of him and he gestured to make a point, and sent his wine glass flying. Lupin stood quickly to find his wand, apologising profusely.

"You're nervous," said Snape, quickly siphoning the wine away.

Lupin gave him a tentative smile. It was only then that Snape noticed the slight tremor to Lupin's hands as he quickly stuffed them into his trouser pockets. Snape understood and stood before Lupin and slipped his own fingers into Lupin's pockets.

"Remus!" he whispered insistently. "Don't repress yourself with me. Please. I want our life back. All of it. Including this."

Lupin's fingers folded over Snape's and he rested his head in the crook of Snape's neck. When Lupin spoke, it was halting and unsure.

"That full moon when I waited for you. You didn't come. Dora did. She had your balms. She said you'd given them to her. Our special time. You'd given it up to her! I couldn't understand at all. I tried to. I wrote to you -"

"I got your letter. I treasured it. I would have given everything to be with you, Remus … but I couldn't."

"I understand that now. But then … then. I didn't. It got worse each month. I needed you. I _craved_ you – like a drug. I _had_ to suppress myself – what I'd grown so used to expressing with you. It was ours – just ours. Special. But it was gone and I had to push that craving away. Imprison it again – as I'd always done before." Lupin raised his head to look Snape in the eyes, removing their joined hands from his pockets to hold in front of him. "It didn't matter if I marked Dora – it kept us from harm, but it meant no more to me. I'd lost you … and I didn't understand how."

Lupin cast his eyes down, seemingly unable to finish what he wanted to say. Snape cupped Lupin's hands with his own, feeling the tension of restraint in them.

"I sat in this room and watched the moon – every – single – moon." He raised Lupin's hands to his mouth and kissed them. "I wept for you. I ached for you. Don't deny me now."

Lupin wrapped his arms around Snape exhaling a huge, heartfelt sigh.

"My Severus," he murmured as he pressed kisses to Snape's hair. Snape's eyes closed at the touch and he moved his face to find Lupin's mouth, catching his lips with his own, softly and gently then more insistently, then greedily kissing, searching mouths and teeth with hungry tongues.

Even as they kissed, Snape felt the change in the air, felt the hair on Lupin's naked arms rise, his rib cage expand, smelt his musk thicken. Snape grasped the back of Lupin's head so the kiss could not be broken. At first, Snape felt resistance: a pulling away, but then Lupin pulled Snape to himself and pushed Snape backwards towards their bedroom, repeating Snape's name like a prayer as he grasped Snape's hair. Snape knew there would be no hesitation now; no going back.

"Only you, my Severus," Lupin rasped, and mouthed against Snape's face, as he unfastened the buttons of Snape's robe with precise, swift movements, pulling the robe off and letting it fall to the floor. Lupin dropped to his knees and pulled off Snape's boots then held his hips bones as his wanton gaze travelled all over Snape's naked body. Snape could barely breathe, he was so sexually charged, the hot rock of desire burning in his groin. Then he heard Lupin growl deeply in his throat and his hands tightened in Lupin's hair as he watched him rub his lips over Snape's erection. Snape almost cried out but he bit his lip instead: he knew he couldn't last long.

Lupin lightly grazed the tip just once with his teeth and then took Snape's erection in his mouth, pushing Snape back onto the bed behind him. Snape could only arch and moan as Lupin took Snape's cock roughly, sucking on him swiftly as his hand worked against his balls and brought him to a swift, hard orgasm which he swallowed greedily. Lupin pulled himself up over Snape, his eyes dark and lustful, scenting Snape's body as he passed over it.

Snape's fingers fumbled with the buttons of Lupin's waistcoat as Lupin braced both his arms over Snape's prone form on either side of Snape's face, until Snape opened the waistcoat and then he knelt astride Snape's body for him to remove it. Snape's hands roved over Lupin's chest and over his shoulders as Lupin released his own trousers and manoeuvred himself to kick them off as Snape shuffled back so sit against the head board and Lupin crawled over him, his breathing now ragged as he place his hips level with Snape's face, his own hard erection pressing to Snape's parted lips as he fisted Snape's hair.

"As hard as you can, Severus," Lupin growled.

Knowing exactly how Lupin wanted this on this night, Snape swirled his tongue around the tip and then drew all of Lupin's cock into in mouth, sucking on him hard, even drawing his teeth along his shaft as one hand rolled his balls and the fingers from the other dug into Lupin's muscled backside. Lupin growled again as he thrust his own hips forward, pulling harder on Snape's hair. Snape felt his own cock harden again, quickly and painfully, as Lupin rocked into his mouth and Snape sucked harder still. Lupin didn't try to hold on but bucked fast into his mouth, suddenly crying out hoarsely as he came hot and hard in Snape's mouth. Snape sucked and massaged until Lupin was drained, holding his hips as he felt the strain lessen in them even though Snape now was trembling in anticipation, his groin on fire once more with fierce and desperate desire. Then he heard the words he longed for, words Lupin had said before - the guttural promise that made his whole body thrill.

"Hands and knees, Severus. I'll give you what you need."

Snape got up to his hands and knees, trembling with excitement as the atmosphere in the room heightened further as he felt Lupin draw in behind him and hold his hips firmly. Then his fingers pushed in hard and Snape pushed back, a rasping cry escaping him as he did so, and the fingers searched inside him to prepare him quickly. Snape's back arched as Lupin's fingers found the nerves that nearly made him come right there.

"Remus, please!" gasped Snape.

Lupin thrust himself in to his full length and ground himself in, wrapping his arms below Snape's waist. Snape groaned loudly. The deep, deep grind always pierced him like a burning brand and, with each thrust, he felt his groin flame more fiercely. Lupin thrust harder and harder, his own groans through clenched teeth became louder too.

Snape could barely breathe and his whole body was alight, desperate now for Lupin to deliver the cathartic release he so desired. He almost cried out in anticipation as he felt Lupin lean on his back and take the marked skin on his neck between his teeth and then he sucked and bit as he delivered a powerful thrust of his hips. Snape's orgasm tore through him and he cried out hoarsely, coming hard as Lupin continued to thrust, caught in Snape's contracting muscle, waves of ecstasy crashing over Snape's now sweating body, his own cries in time with Lupin's bucking hips as his arms weakened but Lupin held him tightly.

Snape was lost: it was the frenzied delirium the bite provoked, a thing so base, yet so exalted in his mind. The moon was rising in Lupin's body and the two of them rode the crest of the animalistic rutting, their bodies ever more pliable and flexible against the punishing coupling. Repeating Snape's name ever louder, Lupin's thrust became wildly erratic and he roared as he came hard and bit again, releasing Snape again, and then pumped against him, gradually slowing until they both buckled onto the bed, blood pumping loudly in their ears as they struggled for breath together.

Lupin's cheek resting against his own, Snape trembled under Lupin's body, his mind unravelled, his strength spent, his desperate need fulfilled – after so many months. Lupin kissed Snape's cheek tenderly and then pulled him into his arms, cleansing him, kissing him, become gentler with each touch of fingers and lips and Snape drank it all in even in his unfocused state. They were together, here on the night of the full moon. Snape's head pressed against Lupin's chest, listening to the steady beat of his beloved's most dear heart.

Snape felt whole again as Lupin murmured his words of love to him as they waited together for the moon to rise.

That time came round more quickly than Snape could credit. His strength now fully restored, they had long since changed positions so that Lupin now rested against Snape.

They needed no clock or chart to tell them the time had come. Snape enfolded Lupin in his arms as he felt the small tug in his stomach. There was one brief flash of fear that he might feel the sickness that would tell him his _Electio_ Potion had failed, but as Lupin became rigid and hislimbs began to shake, the feeling of sickness passed. The bedroom filled with the sound of bones breaking and tissue tearing. It was every bit as horrific as Snape remembered but Lupin no longer screamed as the combined effect of the improved Wolfsbane and Snape's loving embrace dulled the worst of the curse as Lupin re-shaped and re-formed until, whimpering and panting, the wolf sat in Snape's arms once more - tawny and grey – the handsome animal – beautiful still. Snape's joy threatened to overwhelm him then the lambent gold eyes of the wolf caught Snape's own, pleading to know the answer …

_Is it safe?_

"It's fine, beloved. I promise you. The child is safe."

The wolf climbed to sit so his head lay in Snape's hands, with a whine, he nuzzled into Snape's stomach and Snape wrapped his hands into the wolf's crest, receiving such an adoring look as to make his heart clench and make him inwardly curse Tonks once again. He bitterly hoped that she despaired this night - just as he had done before.

"I promised you, didn't I?" murmured Snape as he looked into the wolf's eyes. "You will not bring a werewolf into the world, Remus."

_Thank you, Severus. Thank you._

Even in his mind, Lupin's voice seemed so broken, as if this one promise were to be broken, this one complete terror of Lupin's were to be realised, his desperate hold on his humanity would be lost.

Snape understood: he knew the man. He held the wolf tighter and stroked him, humming tunelessly to comfort him on this, their first moon together again.

oooOOOooo

There was something of a dream-like quality to their time together after Lupin's almost pain-free reversion to his human form. From that moment on Snape took charge of caring for Lupin, just as he always had, and Lupin rested in Snape's tender care, still adoring as he had been last night. Snape felt that they were now truly reunited. He and Lupin bathed together and even this most innocuous of things gave Snape such a feeling of empowerment.

Empowerment, yes. He had defied both of his masters to be with the man he loved and now Lupin rested in his arms, Snape felt stronger for it.

As the morning passed and Lupin gradually grew a little stronger, Snape felt able to leave him so he could attend his office and make an appearance at lunch in the Great Hall. He was grateful that the students had not yet returned. It would become harder to steal time with Lupin once the dunderheads were scuttling around the corridors and classrooms – but at least on this moon, they had this breathing space together.

Snape maintained a frosty distance at the head of the staff lunch table, watching the way the Hogwarts teachers kept together, talking in soft voices, clearly meaning to exclude the Carrows whose displeasure was clear. But when they complained to him after lunch, Snape sneered.

"Does the opinion of these _teachers,_ these _theorists_ , mean so much to you? You, chosen Death Eaters of the Dark Lord? We, who have greater work to do?"

The Carrows shuffled nervously under Snape-s never-faltering gaze.

"Just don't think you should let 'em be rude to us," whined Alecto. Amycus nodded. Brutish, atavistic and stupid - Snape hated them both. However, they needed to trust him but respect his authority too.

"Remember your position here, Alecto," said Snape, smoothly. "You are here to teach, as the Dark Lord wishes you to. He does not require you to consort with half-bloods and half-breeds - those who have set their faces against the Dark Lord before, but who serve his purpose - _for now_." Snape laid a delicate emphasis on the last phrase and the Carrows smirked at the implied threat. Snape had them now. "If you start throwing your weight around here and the teachers leave their posts, I can assure you the Dark Lord will be most … unhappy trying to replace them. We require consistency at this stage."

Snape turned and left them smirking behind him. He hated himself for saying those things about the staff, or that Filius or Hagrid were considered half-breeds by him. He had no doubt that the staff believed he thought those things of them. They had to _believe_ he thought those things even if it stung him. He made his way back to the Headmaster's study and then took the Floo to his old quarters, a bitter taste in his mouth. He knew he had to make his enmity seem realistic – but that didn't dull the pain of seeing hatred in everyone's eyes.

But his bitterness was forgotten the moment he stepped out of the Floo to find Lupin waiting for him - his pallor better, his eyes soft, his smile welcoming and his arms open to greet him with a gentle embrace and a kiss that quickly became passionate.

Snape knew what it meant, knew Lupin now wanted Snape to make him his own again – uniquely his. Snape took Lupin's hand and led him to the bedroom, undressing him and laying him on the bed beneath him. His own beloved.

"And this, Severus, is something _I_ have longed for."

oooOOOooo

"I don't believe it."

The sudden comment broke Snape's concentration on Skeeter's chapter on Dumbledore's sister. Snape put the book down and peered at Lupin _._

"Look at this, Severus." Lupin folded the newspaper and passed it to Snape.

_L **ist of Muggle-borns** failing to attend **for interrogation** ,_ he read. It was no surprise to see Ted Tonks's name there, and several other Muggle-born adults he knew, some from their own time at Hogwarts. Two of the named he knew were already on the continent with their families thanks to the Order.

Snape couldn't help but feel nauseous that, had Lily lived, she would have been summoned to such a hearing – accused of magical theft – and yet she had been one of the most gifted witches he had ever met. To this day, he did not understand what would be achieved by imprisoning Muggle-borns.

As he eyes scanned the list, he saw the names of those who had been his own students last year: Justin Finch-Fletchley (now out of harm's way), Dean Thomas, Hermione Granger … then, shockingly, the Creevy brothers … the list went on, Muggle-born students getting younger and younger down the list.

"They're not even of age," gasped Lupin. "I'll get in touch with Kingsley today. If they've been summoned already, I hope they've gone into hiding. We have to finalise our routes. Make sure of our allies, wizarding and werewolf."

Lupin looked up at Snape.

"I can't put it off any longer, Severus. I'll send my Patronus to Idris tonight – I hope he'll allow our refugees shelter – and maybe help us with the curse."

Snape gave Lupin a sad smile. With the Tracing Jinx on him, there were few places Snape could travel to be with Lupin and he knew Lupin had tried to put travelling off for as long as he could. But, things were moving quickly now. Snape comforted himself that the sooner Lupin left, the sooner he'd come back. At least that's what Snape hoped. He placed his hand over Lupin's.

"I just hope … I hope he trusts you. You're mated to me, after all."

.

* * *

Next chapter: Lupin leaves as the students return and a theft is prevented!


	112. Mandatory Lies and Necessary Truths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes from Chapter 12 of DH are in bold and © J.K. Rowling

 

Snape knew he should leave their bed. It was 9 o'clock, hours after they normally awoke. Instead, he spooned closer to Lupin, still sleeping soundly in Snape's arms.

They had barely slept. They had spent the evening and most of the night in heated passion. Snape had found himself almost insatiable. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised. It had been months since he had taken Lupin and this was something Tonks could never take from him.

He felt a small degree of unease that his passion had been borne of possessiveness, but wasn't Lupin's too? Lupin had responded just as passionately to him and once Snape was truly spent, Lupin had fallen asleep, a beautifully contented smile on his features. Snape had slept for short stretches, only to wake to admire the man in his arms once more.

He didn't want Lupin to leave for the pack but he knew that the time to find Idris most amenable to their proposals would be after the full moon. In the light of Dumbledore's death, Lupin didn't know what kind of reception he would get from Idris, so he sent a Patronus that morning.

"Do you think he'll refuse to see you?"

"I don't know, Severus," said Lupin, as they ate their breakfast together. "I haven't seen him since the battle, but I saw Alphard after the Albus's funeral."

"He was there?" Of course, Snape had been so intent on Lupin at the funeral, he hadn't really looked around at the others attending.

"He was under a Glamour with the Whitby Werewolves. He came over to see me, and he met Dora." Snape felt a knot of sickness in his stomach. "You know that Dora is his great-niece?" Snape nodded. "She invited them back to the flat. She was very excited to meet him. Apparently, he had recently seen Andromeda but that meeting didn't go well."

"I can imagine," muttered Snape.

"We talked." Lupin's brow furrowed. "Severus, I was at my most confused then. It was before the wedding and I can barely remember what I was thinking, my brain was so addled -"

Snape reached for Lupin's hand and squeezed it. Lupin exhaled heavily.

"What Alphard thinks of us – of you and of me – I don't know, but he knows the wedding was planned. Dora invited him then and then later by Patronus. He didn't come. I don't know what reason he gave. Dora was upset, but Andromeda was pleased. In retrospect, I dare say Andromeda was thinking of that curse."

"I don't suppose that will be an issue for Idris," said Snape. "What he will want to know is if you're still mated to me – the killer of Dumbledore – the Dark Lord's man."

Lupin nodded. "So, do I let him think I am married to Dora and you and I have severed our link to get his co-operation? He's a werewolf – he knows better than that. Or do I tell him the truth of us – of you? Is that too much of a risk?"

Now it was Snape's turn to exhale heavily. It was a huge question. The only reason they had told the Tonkses was because they were caught by a Fidelius: magic would protect that knowledge from accidental dissemination. They couldn't expect a Fidelius from Idris and Alphard, but they wanted their help. They had proved themselves the Lightest of packs and could provide safe refuge and passage for those in need.

Furthermore, Snape couldn't deny that he missed the camaraderie of working with Alphard. Sharing the common purpose they had had been one of the most rewarding partnerships he had known. He couldn't deny that he'd missed those letters, full of eagerness and intelligence, or just how much he wished he had that friendship - yes friendship – back.

But could they risk it? He wasn't going to ask Dumbledore: he knew that answer would be no. He even understood why Dumbledore would say such a thing. But he had been wrong before: he had been wrong and Lupin and Snape. They were stronger together – they would always be stronger together.

They talked for hours around the subject until Lupin finally stood, clearly resolved.

"It comes down to a calculation of risk, doesn't it, Severus? Do we trust Idris and Alphard? I know I do."

"Yes," said Snape, without hesitation, "I would trust them."

"Are either of them likely to fall into Death Eater hands? Would they be tortured or Legilimised? Could our secret be ripped from them?"

"That much risk both of us take every day," said Snape. "I think it's more of a question whether they would trust _me._ "

"That's the ultimate question. I think Idris would want to see you, to judge for himself -'

"Remus, I can't! The Jinx!"

Lupin gritted his teeth, and ran his hand through his hair. Snape could see Lupin had forgotten the Jinx's existence.

"We'll find a way," said Snape. "We'll convince him somehow."

At that moment, the large wolf Patronus of Idris sailed into Snape's quarters. Only then did Snape realise how long it had taken Idris to respond. It had clearly not been an easy decision for him.

_"Ye may come, Remus Lupin. Do not breach the wards but call me out to meet you."_

They had re-set their protective enchantments then. And excluded Lupin. Snape couldn't blame them but nor could he deny the growing worry of Lupin entering a pack of werewolves who clearly no longer trusted him.

oooOOOooo

That evening, Kingsley called Lupin to an Order meeting. While he was gone, Snape busied himself reading over the curriculum documents from the other teachers. There was no need with the established teachers, but he made all the teachers submit them so he could see what the Carrows proposed.

The lesson plans for the re-named Dark Arts were hardly extensive nor could they be considered even educational. There was no theory of curses or counter-curses, no spell creation theory. There was an element of defence insofar as offence could possibly count as defensive. Snape could barely read the units on Dark Creatures without flinching that each was dealt with by death, rather than detection and deterrence. By the fourth year lesson plans, real Dark curses were to be introduced including the Cruciatus. For the fifth year, the Imperius Curse was to be part of the new OWL. For NEWTs, Fiendfyre. His stomach roiled. It took skill and an iron will to control Fiendfyre - it was not a curse for school children to dabble with! He couldn't read any more of that.

He put those to one side and picked up the lesson plans for Muggle Studies, now compulsory for all students. With growing dismay, he read the barely literate notes of the similarity between Muggles and animals, of their lack of hygiene and stupidity and their viciousness towards magical folk and how oppressing them would restore the natural order once more.

Snape ran his palm over his face. How would he deal with this? How could he curtail it without giving away his true allegiance? He would have to plan carefully.

By the time Lupin returned, Snape was thoroughly sickened by what he had read but Lupin seemed to have renewed confidence in their plans.

Lupin told Snape that the meeting had been lively. They had agreed that various members of the Order would be stationed in those parts of the country already designated as part of their escape routes. Kingsley had agreed to cover Southampton and Portsmouth, Lupin would go to the pack in Snowdonia as a pathway to the ports to Ireland, Daedalus and Hestia would take turns rotating their watches over the Dursleys with charge over the route from Harwich to the Hook of Holland. Bill and Fleur had agreed to be stationed over City Airport, a smaller airport, less likely to draw the attention of the authorities. Charlie Weasley was now Bill's contact in Romania through Gringotts.

Added to this, they had already set another six families on their journeys abroad. There was at least some optimism that they could help those most in need, even if their own numbers were too depleted to oust the Death Eaters from power.

"Did you have any difficulty from her?" asked Snape, almost unable to help himself.

"Just one comment," Lupin shrugged as if it was of no consequence.

"Which was?"

Lupin sighed. "She said she thought I might like to know that she wasn't sick at the full moon. She had thought if I cared about the baby at all, I would have asked."

"Did you tell her you already knew?"

"I told her I knew. I didn't tell her how."

Snape made to protest. He wanted to rub her nose in it. He couldn't help it – he just did, but Lupin shook his head.

"No Severus. It's our business what we share – not hers!" Lupin bridled. "She's taken too much from us already!" Lupin then softened. "I do understand how you feel, Severus, but please let this just be about us. If I'm leaving for the pack tomorrow, I don't want this night to have anything to do with Tonks."

Lupin held Snape's face with his outstretched hand and kissed him – a demanding kiss – a silencing kiss – a kiss that would brook no argument. And why would Snape argue? He kissed back, becoming more demanding himself because this time was _his_ time and, come the morning, he would have to cede to Lupin because he would join the pack once more. He grasped Lupin to himself, digging his fingers hard into Lupin's backside as he felt Lupin's erection grow against his stomach and felt his own stiffen as his desire flamed.

If he had given any thought to Tonks a minute ago, it was gone from his mind now. Everything was gone from his mind. Only the hot, passionate kiss and moulding together of their bodies mattered to him now.

oooOOOooo

If Snape could have kept Lupin from going, he would have. He knew it was selfish but he couldn't deny that it was what he truly felt. But he also knew that if prevented Lupin leaving, he would be proving Dumbledore right: that they would put their love before the cause. He would never let Dumbledore's enforced separation of them be vindicated. But he watched Lupin packing his a duffle bag anxiously.

"Any sign of trouble – any at all, come home," instructed Snape. "You have your mirror? Remember, Tippy can find you." He handed over a set of Potions phials, just as he always used to. Lupin gave Snape a soft smile.

"I'll be careful. You know me."

"That's the trouble - I do know you, you insufferable Gryffindor! Dear Merlin, Remus. Please stay safe."

Lupin pressed a kiss to Snape's lips and they leant their foreheads together.

"You're a fine one to talk, Severus," he whispered as he ran the backs of his finger gently over Snape's Dark Mark and kissed him again. "Promise me you'll do the same."

"I promise I'll try."

oooOOOooo

It had felt like the longest day of Snape's life as he waited for Lupin to call through the mirror. The time seemed to pass with a turgid slowness. Every duty seemed onerous and every movement, ponderous.

When had he become such a fearful man? Lupin had undertaken many dangerous missions before. Snape had to admit, he had always feared for Lupin's safety, but he had also now tasted what his life would be like without him – and he had hated it.

The time ticked by – past lunch, past dinner, past midnight. Snape didn't even think of undressing for bed. What if Lupin needed him? What if Tippy sounded the alarm? Past 2 a.m. Past 3 a.m. He kept repeating the same mantra to himself as he paced the floor:

_They wouldn't hurt him._

_They couldn't hurt him._

At 4 in the morning, he heard Lupin call his name. His hand snatched the mirror. Frantically, he searched Lupin's face for any sign – any mark – of violence, but he found none.

"Remus! Are you all right?"

"Yes. Yes. I'm fine, Severus," Lupin said, his eyes warm and a reassuring smile playing on his lips. "I'm sorry it's so late. There was so much so explain – so much they wanted to ask. Quite a lot of explaining to do about Dora to Alphard as well. But, I think it's going to be okay, Severus. I really think it is."

The relief Snape heard in Lupin's voice told him more than words ever could: it told him Lupin had had to use every ounce of persuasion he had.

"Where are you now?"

"Alphard let me use his tent to call you. I knew you'd be worried. I have to go back. There's still so much they want to know – Idris and his sons and Betas. There have been many changes here. Many for the worse. You-Know-Who's grip is felt, even here."

"Go then," said Snape, relieved himself that Lupin was unharmed and accepted, "and call me when you can."

Lupin didn't call again until mid-morning, now looking weary but satisfied.

"Idris has agreed to provide a transit point and safe haven. Obviously, we are going to put in safety measures before the next full moon. We've a lot of arranging to do. Both Alphard and Idris want to talk you but I've explained you can't come here. Alphard was going to come to you but Idris won't allow him to leave, not now there are snatchers about, even around Snowdon!"

Snape felt his blood run cold. As strange as it sounded, he feared seeing either man – what must they think, about Dumbledore, about Tonks?

"What of the curse, the Lydiard Curse? Did you speak to them?"

"I told Alphard. He said he'd heard about from Andromeda but hadn't believed it. He was very upset when I told him about his brother's portrait. I think he wants to speak to you before he speaks to Idris."

"They know I can't travel."

"Yes. We must find a way. Even if it's just for us. I saw the farmhouse, Severus. _Our_ home. Wouldn't it be a fine place for us to spend the next full moon?"

Snape agreed, smiling at the hopeful look on Lupin's face.

_Our home._

He could think of nowhere finer.

They talked for hours until Snape had to finish. He was scheduled to give an interview to _The Daily Prophet_ , as painful as that might be. The Dark Lord would expect a show for the papers. Lupin had agreed to resume his nightly watch duties and they agreed they would speak in the early mornings. If all went to plan, Lupin would be home in a week.

oooOOOooo

There was a flash of light and a quick burst of smoke from the camera flash which the photographer wafted away with his hand as Rita Skeeter's talon-like nails drummed on the walnut of the Headmaster's desk impatiently. Snape saw the Carrow twins from the Headmaster's study where their photographs had been taken then spun to face Rita.

"Stop that," snapped Snape, startling Rita. Her pencilled eyebrow rose as she assessed Snape. Then a false smile spread.

"Did you like my book about your predecessor?" Rita smirked, as if she were somehow conspiring with Snape. No doubt she had heard the rumours that Snape had been suspected of Dumbledore's killing but Snape would not encourage her companionable overtures – to Snape, she was no more than a bottom-feeder, a press guttersnipe. He read the green writing appearing on the parchment to her side. He sighed. Did she think reading writing upside down was not the particular skill of every teacher?

_Severus Snape, **long-standing Potions master** and nemesis (and indeed boggart) of many a school child, has achieved a position that none would have guessed that a man of such limited social standing in the Wizarding world could ever achieve …_

Snape flicked his wand and the acid green quill and the parchment on which it wrote crumbled into a heap of smouldering ash.

"Madam Skeeter. I recommend a little more care dealing with me and this … regime. There will be little tolerance for those who find themselves unable to conform. I trust I make myself understood."

"Well, I'm sure nothing was intended. No need for unpleasantness now, is there?" she simpered, but her eyes were hard and calculating.

"Indeed not."

"May I get another quill?" Rita opened the clasp on her large handbag, her smile still fixed.

Snape inclined his head but with a barely suppressed sneer.

Rita slowly withdrew a quill – an ordinary dictation quill this time - and her smile broadened.

"Shall we?" she said, her quill poised over another roll of journalistic parchment. Snape began to speak and the quill raced across the parchment, this time quoting him verbatim.

**"I welcome the opportunity to uphold our finest wizarding traditions and values,"** said Snape, smoothly. "Hogwarts has been teaching the great witches and wizards of our country for a millennium. The great and honourable task now falls to me to ensure that only the best teaching will be available to only the best and most deserving of magical kind."

It choked him to say it, the implied blood purity in those lines, but there was no way around it. Everyone was now required to nail their colours to the mast. The irony was that he must put away duplicitous words if he was to be successful in this act of ultimate duplicity.

oooOOOooo

It was the first time he had taken breakfast with the staff. The pupils would arrive in the evening and Snape now had to ensure that he attended every meal and made his presence felt – not so much with the pupils, but with the staff. He was sure if he could keep them in line, the children should follow – or so he hoped.

As his kippers with bread and butter appeared, _The Daily Prophet_ was delivered by the owls. The article appeared exactly as Rita had been instructed. He felt a curious mixture of revulsion and regret as he looked at his scowling photograph on the front page and the screaming headline: **_SEVERUS SNAPE CONFIRMED AS HOGWARTS HEADMASTER._** Why couldn't he have headlines for his improvements to the Wolfsbane Potion or his rediscovery and refinement of the _Electio_ Potion – something of which he could be proud?

Snape couldn't fail to notice the unguarded glances of dislike which were shot his way. Since Filch had put up the posters around the school declaring Potter, **UNDESIRABLE NO. 1** , the rest of the staff had barely contained their outrage. The newspaper headlines merely consolidated that outrage. He wore his most bored expression as he folded his paper very deliberately to read another column even as the Carrows nudged each other, guffawing with arrogance at their own photographs.

The Dark Lord had summoned more Death Eaters to keep a watch at Grimmauld Place. Snape wondered why. Surely it was obvious that Potter would not be returning to Hogwarts this year. The very idea struck Snape as absurd.

Snape had exaggerated the duties he had to fulfil this day so he would not be called upon for this fool's errand. The duties on the day of arrival actually weren't that onerous as a great deal had been accomplished between himself and Lupin, not to mention the amount of administration which Minerva undertook as a matter of course. He did, however, inspect the grounds, the kitchens and the Houses to check all was in order.

He maintained a carefully studied air of disinterested arrogance as each Head of House showed him around in his capacity as Headmaster, showing particular disdain for the House of Godric Gryffindor. He saw the resentment in eyes of Minerva, the betrayal. He saw the determination to thwart him in the iron rod-stiffness of her back as she held his gaze.

What he would have given to have been just Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin House again. They would be rolling their eyes at each other at Dumbledore's small talk – gentle, if wry, conspirators against Dumbledore's more outlandish faux-folly.

Those days were gone.

Her eyes were hard and unforgiving – Snape had no doubt he was a worse criminal in her eyes than the Dark Lord himself. He dearly wished she knew the truth. But he was certain – foolishly brave Gryffindor that she was – as brave as any – as strong an ally as she would be, she was no Occlumens and nor would she be able to resist Veritaserum or the _Cruciatus_. Better she not know.

After the final inspection, Snape retired to the Headmaster's office, leaving the rest of the staff to meet in the staff room without him. He took tea from Tippy as he sat at the ornate desk and read once again the list of students attending this year.

There were new names added to existing years: names of students who had previously been taught at home. That was forbidden now. The Dark Lord wanted all magical young (or at least those he considered worthy) to be under his control at Hogwarts. The Heads of House expected there to be manifold difficulties dealing with these children, transplanted into a system they didn't know and which their parents, for whatever reason, had previously shunned. Minerva had requested special classes be allotted for orientation which Snape had derided for the benefit of the Carrows. Of course, it was an excellent idea and Snape had ensured there was proper co-ordination through the years, but not without letting Minerva know how very much he resented such 'pandering to people too dunderheaded or pampered for school.' She had bridled even as the Carrows had laughed at her expense. Snape hated himself for it but, at least, she had got what she needed.

He looked at the list again. There should have been seven Muggle-born first year students this year. He stared at their names, struck through by the Ministry. Then he looked at the lists for the other years. Totalling the seven years together, fifty-three Muggle-borns would not be attending Hogwarts this year. Snape wondered where they were this day. Were they safe? Or were some of them already wandless and maybe held in Azkaban? He felt so useless.

"Headmaster!"

Snape turned to see Phineas Nigellus leaning forward urgently, clearly outraged. "The Mudblood -"

"Don't say that word!" Snape spat, already feeling quite brittle.

"The Granger girl – she has taken my portrait from Grimmauld Place. She has placed it in her bag!"

"Excellent!" said Dumbledore, clapping his hands together. "Now you are our best hope for obtaining information, Phineas. Visit regularly and see what you can ascertain!"

The small silver bell rang and the portraits fell silent.

Minerva arrived and addressed him brusquely.

"It's time, _Headmaster._ "

With a curt nod to Snape, she Levitated the Sorting Hall onto the ceremonial cushion and Snape handed over the list of the names of the new first years. Minerva scanned the list and Snape just knew she was recalling those names which should have appeared there. Her eyes flashed then she nodded and departed as abruptly as she had come to wait in the Great Hall.

Snape stood and breathed deeply to steady his nerves. This day should have been the pinnacle of his teaching career: that he, a Northern working-class half-blood, had scaled the heights to become Headmaster of Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was certainly how everyone would expect him to think. Yet, he felt such a charlatan – felt every inch as if he had murdered his way to power.

"Courage, Severus," said Dumbledore, as if a portrait could sense Snape's hesitance. "Play your part. We here all understand – and support you."

Snape looked at all his predecessors, not one of whom now slept. He nodded to them, feeling perhaps a little less brittle, and, setting his expression once more to arrogance, he strode out and down to the Great Hall itself.

He swept down the stairs and met the Carrow twins at the great oaken doors and they flanked him as he strode to his place – to Dumbledore's place.

There would be no flippant few words that Dumbledore used to make the youngest children laugh, no stirring speeches about unity against the Dark Arts. The food would be lavish, the new children would be enchanted – but this was a different Hogwarts now.

oooOOOooo

Whatever Snape had expected of the second day of term, it had not been this.

Barely through mid-morning, Snape received a harassed Floo call from Travers at the Ministry telling him to get to Grimmauld Place as soon as possible: Yaxley had breached the Fidelius.

When he had pulled his head away from the Floo, he saw Dumbledore anxiously hovering in his own portrait.

"If the boy had been there, it would have been the first thing Yaxley said," said Snape reassuringly as he grabbed his summer cloak.

"Severus?" Dumbledore called. Snape stopped just as he reached the door of his office. "If Harry is not there, be careful of Tom. He will be angry."

Snape inhaled deeply. As if he needed telling!

Snape Disapparated from the gates of Hogwarts to a mews behind Grimmauld Place then made his way quickly into the square. He could see Yaxley, of course, standing in the doorway but he stared as if he still could not see number twelve. Yaxley came hurrying towards him and where Snape knew the Fidelius ended, he allowed himself to show surprise at Yaxley's appearance.

"How?" Snape asked snappishly.

"They went to the Ministry – the three of them – under Polyjuice. Attacked me and Umbridge and freed the Mudbloods."

"Freed the … that's why they were there?" asked Snape incredulously.

"Why else? A whole day's worth of trials, escaped – all in the wind now. Suppose he's setting himself up as some kind of hero!" Yaxley sneered. "Well, he won't get any publicity from that. Travers is telling that story to _The Prophet_ right now, how he free convicted criminals to help him on the run"

Snape couldn't believe what he was hearing. Had Potter really endangered whatever mission Dumbledore had given him to be so idiotically heroic? Well, it wouldn't surprise him that the boy would be so reckless of others' sacrifices to have got him so far.

"And then?" asked Snape impatiently.

"Like I said, he attacked us in the courtroom but before that, he'd tripped an alarm in Umbridge's office by removing that eye – you know the one the Dark Lord gave to Umbridge for thinking up the Commission. Anyway, we chased them and I caught hold of the Mudblood – she took me right inside the Charm! She must have realised what she'd done because she moved off again as soon as I realised where I was. Nice trick if you can pull it off."

_So, he was looking for something in Umbridge's office._ Snape dearly wished he knew what it was but he covered his intrigue.

"Admiring Muggle-borns now, are we, Yaxley?" enquired Snape, but then his tone hardened. "So why have you called me?"

"There's a jinx – I think you need to break it. It says your name! Then we can search the place."

Of course, Snape knew about Moody's jinx. He also knew that Yaxley should be able to break it as easily as he could but Yaxley was a craven coward. Perhaps Snape could use that to his advantage.

"Leave me then," said Snape dismissively, and let himself through the door that Yaxley had opened and closed it in the other man's face.

_"_ Severus Snape?"

Snape fought the Tongue-Tying Hex and then incanted, _"Confringo!"_

The dust apparition blew apart and Snape smelt a distinctive and pleasant aroma of cooking overlaying the smell of decay and mould of the hallway. He wondered briefly if there could be another Order member here. His heart skipped a beat and he raised his wand and quickly entered the kitchen.

_"Homenum revelio!"_

There was no-one, but now he could identify the aroma: steak and kidney pie. It smelt wonderful. But who …?

He heard a slight scraping noise and quickly raised his wand again and pulled the cupboard door open. It was the demented old house-elf, Kreacher. But this Kreacher was a very different house-elf to the one he had last seen before Black had died.

Kreacher was spotlessly clean, including the bright white towel he wore, and he wore a locket around his neck. Now that Snape looked around himself, even the kitchen shone as he had never seen it. Clearly, something fundamental had changed between Potter and this house-elf.

"Who is your Master?"

The house-elf cowered to the back of his cupboard.

"Master is Harry Potter. Where is Master Harry?" the old elf croaked, looking behind Snape hopefully as if he might be hiding Potter. There was none of the old animosity or bile. The elf was concerned and Snape was sure the concern was genuine. Well, he couldn't let the elf be found by Yaxley. Who knew what he might be forced to reveal?

"Your master has had to hide, Kreacher. Do you remember when you worked in the kitchens of Hogwarts?"

The elf nodded.

"I am now Headmaster. Go there now. You will be safe until your master calls you once more."

Kreacher looked at Snape appraisingly and then, without another word but with a loud crack, Kreacher Disapparated.

Snape could only conjecture about the change in the house-elf or what the locket around the creature's neck might mean. Perhaps Dumbledore would know. But, for the time being, he put that from his mind and quickly made a search of the house from top to bottom. He found notes – mainly in Granger's handwriting, books on Wizarding history with book marks and roughly drafted maps. There was no way he could keep any of it safe for them so he Vanished it all.

He returned to the kitchen and took the steak and kidney pie from the oven and the treacle tart that was below it and placed it on the kitchen table. Then he went to the hallway and cast over the place where Moody had snt his Jinxes and Bound them. It would be the least that Yaxley would expect. Snape strode to the front door and flung it wide. Yaxley was leaning against the porch wall, Travers and Macnair waited on the steps behind.

"You took your time," accused Travers. Snape ignored him.

"I've dealt with the curses," said Snape. "I need to get back to the school. Watch the library - many books are cursed."

"What's that smell?" interrupted Travers.

"The traitors' dinner, it would appear." Snape wrinkled his nose with distaste. "Steak and kidney pie."

Travers' eyes lit up and he rubbed his hands together and pushed past Snape, making straight for the kitchen. Snape had known he would. If they stuffed their faces now, it would be difficult for them to accuse him of having taken his time disabling the curses. Without further discussion, Snape Disapparated from the top step.

ooOOOooo

He heard their nervous whispers as they tried to make their way down the spiral stairs. Idiot children! What kind of recklessness made children think they were capable of breaking into the Headmaster's office undetected?

Still whispering to each other to take care, they reached the final step where Snape waited with his wand drawn level with their faces.

"What do we have here?" he said silkily, his sneer broadening as Longbottom's eyes crossed trying to focus on the wand aimed between his eyes. Miss Weasley and Miss Lovegood both stared slack-jawed from behind Longbottom, Miss Lovegood's eyes wide but Miss Weasley's expression quickly became hard and defiant. He would have expected no less.

Snape flicked his wand in a gesture for them to turn around and return to his office. Each of them turned and walked up the stairs to stand in a row in front of his desk. Snape glowered at Dumbledore's portrait not to interfere and then turned quickly to Longbottom and held out his hand. His eyebrow slowly rose as the boy's jaw set and his fist clenched harder around the hilt he held.

_So, now we finally see the Gryffindor_ , thought Snape.

"It's not your sword," hissed Miss Weasley, although Snape could see the tremble in her jaw that betrayed the adrenaline now coursing through her body. "It doesn't belong to you."

"And to whom do you suppose the Sword of Gryffindor _does_ belong in your infinite wisdom, Miss Weasley?" queried Snape, genuinely interested in what could have provoked these students to attempt to steal from a Death Eater's office in the middle of the day. And how had they known he had been called away? He looked deliberately slowly at the Sword's case by his desk. "It has resided in that case for hundreds of years. Why do you suppose you are entitled to re-house it?"

"It's Harry's. Harry Potter!" interjected Longbottom. "Professor Dumbledore left it to him. You've no right to keep it from him!"

"Did he now? How interesting. Of course," said Snape softly so they had to strain to hear him, "it was not Professor Dumbledore's to give away. I trust you understand that."

A quick flick of Snape's wand and Longbottom released the hilt that burnt his hand and Snape seized it, leering unpleasantly. His eyes never left Longbottom's as he Levitated the Sword tantalisingly slowly back to its case and closed the casing with several silent spells. He walked slowly behind his desk and placed his hands behind his back seeing the increasing nervousness in the two students, even if Miss Lovegood looked around herself in a most unconcerned manner and then seemed to fix on the portrait of Dumbledore.

"Your attention, if you please, Miss Lovegood," Snape hissed.

Her protuberant eyes returned to him, deceptively blank, but Snape knew better. He also knew they had just inadvertently given him valuable information. Were he truly loyal to the Dark Lord, he would report the attempted bequest without delay, but he was not loyal. Whilst he didn't know why Dumbledore had tried to leave the Sword to Potter, he had to ensure these children thought twice about what they said about Potter in the future. They had to understand that careless talk could cost lives, Potter's and their own.

"Where is Harry Potter?" he demanded.

The teenagers shot worried glances at each other.

"Come now. You said the Sword was for Mr. Potter so you must know. Well, where is he?"

"We don't know," said Longbottom. Snape glared at him murderously, willing Longbottom to quail before him – but he did not. Snape leant forward on his hands across the desk, his eyes still locked with Longbottom's.

"But you tried to steal the Sword for him. Why did you do that if you don't know where he is, hm?" He snatched up his wand and cast a quick _Expelliarmus_ and their three wands flew to him. He moved quickly around the desk, startling them by his silent speed. As they reflexively retreated backwards, he Immobilised the two girls and confronted Longbottom.

"Where is Harry Potter?"

"We don't know. We were going to keep the Sword 'til we could find a way to get it to him."

"You expect me to believe that? What, would you hide it in your trunk until Potter shows up late for the start of term?" He loomed over Longbottom from the raised dias, remembering that he was once the boy's boggart and, summoning his most unpleasant sneer, began to shout. "Don't be absurd, Longbottom! Tell me the truth! Where is he?"

Longbottom's jaw jutted in defiance even though Snape could see a flicker of childhood fear being repressed. The boy had come far over these years.

"Don't try to play games with me, Longbottom. Perhaps … perhaps, I should just … _take_ … the information I want -" He pointed his wand at Longbottom's face once more. Then he switched it to Miss Weasley's face, a sadistic smile broadening. "I could strip it from her mind as easily as I took her wand. I wonder how Mr. Potter would feel about that -"

"I'm telling the truth! Don't touch her, you -"

"Yes, Mr. Longbottom? What am I?" asked Snape, his face a supercilious mask.

"Just don't touch her! Do that to me if you have to, just don't touch them like that! Don't hurt their minds," he pleaded desperately.

"Ah, 'daring, nerve and chivalry set Gryffindors apart!' How … _predictable_." Snape smirked, even though his mind recoiled from what he had just done. To threaten Longbottom, of all people, with scrambling his friends' minds had been cruel. But better Snape threatening than the Carrows making good the threat.

"I assure you, Longbottom, being in your tiny mind would be enough to induce claustrophobia. There is an easier way."

Silently, Snape Summoned Veritaserum from his store and held the crystal phial up before him.

"Three drops for you and then, each of your friends. Then – if I'm satisfied – we'll discuss your punishment."

Longbottom swallowed heavily, his lips pursed tightly. Then he nodded, resigned to his fate.

oooOOOooo

Lupin had listened to the whole tale, his eyes wide and concerned. He made no comment but Snape had seen him blanch as the tale proceeded. Snape wished they were speaking in person so he could reassure him.

"Severus," Lupin said softly, "were they hurt?"

"No. I frightened them. And they need to be frightened. They need to understand this is not a game for school children. I had to be seen to punish them."

"Yes," said Lupin, his voice becoming faint and his face drawn with anxiety. "What was their punishment?"

"I didn't allow them back to their Houses after I had dosed them with Veritaserum but sent them straight to the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid."

Snape could help the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth as he saw Lupin's confusion.

"But that's no punishment! Hagrid will look after them, see they're fed, and I'm sure they've been in the Forbidden Forest before and …" Lupin's voice tailed away and his own smile formed in response to Snape's.

"You know that. I know that. The kids know that, Remus. But who do we know who won't know that? Who do we know who will think being assigned to a half-breed in the Forbidden Forest, full of Dark Creatures is a fate no pure-blooded child should have to endure?"

"The Carrows," Lupin laughed.

Snape nodded. "By the time this story has done the rounds, I, Professor Snape, will have punished them most cruelly." Snape sighed. "Meanwhile, let them think they've got one over me at least. As long as they remember to offer no information on Potter in the future then that's a start."

"Has Albus told you why he wants the Sword kept secret?"

"No. Each time I ask he just says, 'It's not time.' I have no idea what that means. He obviously expected problems with the Sword and that's why he copied it. Now we need to ensure that doesn't happen again. I'm thinking of sending the false sword to one of the vaults in Gringotts and letting it slip so everyone knows - maybe Malfoy's or …"

"Send it to the Lestrange vault, if you can," broke in Lupin excitedly.

"What?"

"Have you managed to break the Tracing Jinx yet?"

Now, it was Snape's turn to be confused by the apparently random change in subject.

"I … well, I've tried– I'm not powerful enough. I don't know how to break it. What -"

"I do," said Lupin quietly, a smile breaking across his face. "I know what has the power."

Snape couldn't help but respond to that smile that made his pulse quicken.

"When we were still at school, Sirius used to tell us about his trips to the family vault." Snape rolled his eyes, but Lupin just smiled at him affectionately. "The Black vault, like the Lestrange vault, is in the depths of Gringotts. You need to ensure that you take the Sword to the Lestrange vault, personally."

"But why?"

If possible, Lupin's smile became brighter still.

"The Thief's Downfall, Severus! Even You-Know-Who's jinx can't survive it: it strips away all enchantments."

* * *

.

_**A/N:** There will be more on the meeting between Lupin and Idris when Lupin returns, but it will be recounted fully in the next chapter of 'Old Friend' to be posted later this week._

 


	113. A Way Forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes from Chapter 26 of DH are in bold and © J.K. Rowling
> 
> I'm so sorry for the delay. August was a terrible month, with a loss of a very dear friend.  
> This story is dedicated to him – to Thomas.

It had been relatively easy to secure the use of the Lestrange vault.

As soon as Snape advised the Dark Lord of the incursion into his office and the attempt to steal the Sword, the Dark Lord's interest was piqued.

"Dumbledore left this artefact to Harry Potter?" queried the Dark Lord.

"He did, my Lord. However, I was unable to get the reason from the Longbottom fool. He is, at best, a moron. I wouldn't put it past these ridiculous Gryffindors to try again."

Bellatrix sniggered, as Snape knew she would, but he could see the Dark Lord wasn't interested in his tirade against Longbottom.

"I wonder why," mused the Dark Lord, his red eyes glinting. "The old man may have done something to it for the boy. Did you cast revealing incantations on it?"

"I did, my Lord. I could find nothing. Perhaps, it's just the symbol of Gryffindor – a rallying point for other Gryffindors."

"Foolish old man!" spat the Dark Lord. "Did he truly think the symbol of a Founder would help the boy? Well, he shan't have it."

Snape bowed. "The only other place that has appropriate security is Gringotts, my Lord -"

"Our vault stands ready for your use again, my Lord!" interrupted Bellatrix, desperate for his attention. The Dark Lord's attention snapped to her and he hissed his anger and Bellatrix cowered under his glare. Snape pretended to be oblivious but he couldn't help but wonder for what the Dark Lord had already required the use of the Lestrange vault.

"A vault with such enhanced security would be most appropriate, if you agree, my Lord," said Snape, silkily.

The Dark Lord continued to glare at Bellatrix for an uncomfortably long time then he slowly turned to Snape.

"Very well. Arrange it with Bellatrix." With that, the Dark Lord swept from the room.

"Just send it with one of the house-elves," said Bellatrix, recovering enough to sneer imperiously at Snape.

"No," said Snape softly. "I will see to it personally … unless of course there is a reason I should not accompany this important historical artefact."

oooOOOooo

With the fake sword which Dumbledore had forged under his light summer cloak, Snape waited for the wizard guard to run the Probity Probe over him and then over Rodolphus Lestrange, who fumed at the indignity heaped upon his Pure-blood status.

It was Bellatrix who had insisted that Rodolphus accompany Snape, with insinuations that a poor half-blood such as he could not possibly be trusted around such treasures as the Lestrange vault contained. Snape had ignored the insults – he had only one true purpose and it would be worth putting up with Bellatrix's petulance.

Two goblins came to accompany them to the lower levels: Bogrod, a manager, and Griphook, a senior cashier.

"How dare you delay us like this," snapped Rodolphus. "Do you still really think you have any independence from our Lord that you can plays games with us?" He tripped Griphook with the tip of his foot and laughed unpleasantly as the goblin struggled to right himself. Snape saw the goblin snarl then realised the noise was Gobbledegook and sounded to Snape very much like an imprecation, but Snape said nothing. Let Rodolphus make enemies if that's what he wanted to do. Snape was impatient to get along.

"Enough of this," he huffed, and strode onwards. "I don't have time to waste."

Bogrod barked something at Griphook and they jogged after him and the four of them mounted the waiting cart.

 **With a jerk the cart moved off, gathering speed: they hurtled** along **then the cart began twisting and turning through the labyrinthine passages, sloping downwards all the time.** T **hey swerved between stalactites, flying ever deeper into the earth.**

Snape had never been so deep within Gringotts: this was the world of the ancient Pure-blood families, forever closed to the likes of him. There was a time when he coveted these trappings of the upper echelons of the Wizarding world, but not anymore. All he thought of now was being free to live his life in that farmhouse in Wales. Anything else would just be hollow Glamours - he knew what mattered now.

T **hey took a hairpin bend at speed and** then he **saw ahead of them, with seconds to spare, a waterfall pounding over the track.** This is what Lupin had described to him. **They zoomed through it. Water filled** Snape's **eyes and mouth: he could not see or breathe.** For a split second, he felt as if he had been bodily stripped of something but then the feeling passed and the cart sped and twisted around a chasm holding **a gigantic dragon** , its colour drained by years of captivity.

"What was that?" Snape demanded of Bogrod, hoping that feeling was the Tracing Jinx being stripped away.

" **The Thief's Downfall,"** Bogrod replied. " **It washes away all enchantment, all magical concealment.** Had there been any concealment or enchantments designed for theft, we would have been ejected from the cart and the guards alerted."

The cart drew to a halt and Snape, Rodolphus and Bogrod left the cart, leaving Griphook at the helm. Snape cast a charm to dry himself and then removed the Sword from under his cloak. As he did so, he saw the goblin's eyes narrow as he looked at it and then his eyes darted up to Snape's. Snape was sure he saw a calculating look slide into a sneer. _Could he know?_

"Come then, Professor Snape," chided Bogrod. Snape's attention snapped back to Bogrod, who stood before a large wooden door. Bogrod **press** ed **his palm to the wood, and the door of the vault melted away to reveal a cave-like opening crammed from floor to ceiling with golden coins and goblets, silver armour, the skins of strange creatures, some with long spines, others with drooping wings, potions in jewelled flasks** which Snape would dearly like to have investigated **, and a skull still wearing a crown**. Snape wondered what curse the crown carried to still be attached to the head of its last bearer.

There was a **muffled clunk** and Snape spun around to see **the door reappear** ing **, sealing them inside the vault** and plunging them **into total darkness.**

 _"Lumos!"_ Both Rodolphus and Snape's wands lit up in the same instant as Bogrod lit a torch.

"Place that," Rodolphus pointed to the Sword, "where you wish. Touch nothing. We have plenty of extra security measures in here."

Snape ignored the insult and looked for a discreet place – a place where the Sword would not be readily seen. He did not want to call attention to it. Above a vast heap of **glittering jewels** he saw **a high shelf** with **a jumble of chains** upon it. It was perfect: the jewels would distract anyone looking around.

With a flick and swish of his wand, he Levitated the fake Sword to lie in amongst the heap of chains. Bogrod gave him a nasty smile. Snape nodded. His business here was done and as soon as his duties at Hogwarts permitted, he would be with Lupin. There was nothing Rodolphus could throw at him now that could dampen his spirits.

oooOOOooo

The Carrows were in charge of discipline, but Snape ensured that _he_ laid the ground rules. He was Headmaster and he would not have his authority challenged, by staff or students.

Snape set a rota for patrols. Lights-out would be rigorously enforced. Patrols would be carried out every hour on the hour. Snape ensured that when it was the Carrows' night for patrols, they had the easiest patrol, partly to keep them thinking he had given them special consideration but, in reality, to ensure any serious rule-breaking would be dealt with by the other teachers: ones who wouldn't dream of using the Cruciatus curse on children for being out of bed!

Snape took the early morning patrol. He found he didn't sleep as well without Lupin by his side anyway. It was better than lying awake and it suited him to stalk the corridors when the castle was at its most eerie and dream-like. By the time his patrol was over, he would call Lupin with the mirror and his day would dawn as his mood would lighten, fortified for the day.

He had wanted to spend more time talking to Lupin through the mirror, but Tippy had interrupted to say that the Carrows were on their way to his office, clearly very angry.

Snape and Lupin said rushed good-byes and Snape quickly dressed and took the Floo to the Headmaster's study with only minutes to spare.

The Carrow twins burst through the door.

"'Ere, Snape! Look at this!" growled Amycus.

"We confiscated it – from that dopey Ravenclaw – what's 'er name?" interrupted Alecto.

"You know the one – 'er father produces this rag!" her brother continued as he threw a rolled up copy of _The Quibbler_ on Snape's desk.

"Lovegood," supplied Snape as his picked up the magazine, ignoring the twins' threats of torture to the girl as his eyes widened as he read.

_'WHO HAS THE REAL POWER AT THE MINISTRY?_

_'Following the sudden, indeed shocking, departure of Rufus Scrimgeour from the highest office in magical Britain and the institution of our new Minister for Magic in a swift but silent coup, we note that Pius Thicknesse's previous post as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement has been filled with equally alarming alacrity. His replacement is Hector Yaxley. Readers may recall that he was tried as a Death Eater after the last Wizarding War but pleaded not guilty as a victim of the Imperius Curse. Surely, it is noteworthy that Mr. Yaxley's rise to power coincides with that of You-Know-Who. His second-in-command is Dorian Travers, another war criminal, newly-cleared of charges for which he spent over 14 years in Azkaban after being tried by the full Wizengamot._

_'As if it were not worrying enough that the Department of Magical Law Enforcement is controlled by You-Know-Who's followers but now our own children have been delivered into the hands of another known Death Eater, Severus Snape, implicated by Harry Potter in the cold-blooded slaughter of Albus Dumbledore._

_'The Ministry will try to tell you that Harry Potter is suspected of that murder. They use their mouthpiece, The Daily Prophet, to tell you this lie. The Quibbler reminds its readers how the Ministry and The Daily Prophet tried to undermine the truth that Harry Potter told before. It lied then and it lies now._

_'We therefore must ask the age-old question then: Who will Guard the Guardians?_

_'WE AT 'THE QUIBBLER' URGE ALL WHO VALUE THEIR LIBERTY TO SUPPORT HARRY POTTER!'_

Snape blinked fast, taking in the picture of a smiling Harry Potter, shot for the Triwizard Championship. He could barely believe his eyes.

He and Lupin had occasionally taken _The Quibbler_ because it carried Runic puzzles which were really quite challenging. It was actually a habit he'd picked up from Dumbledore who boasted that Xenophilius Lovegood had been one of the brightest Ancient Runes students Hogwarts had ever had. Lupin would chuckle quite immoderately at the stories of fanciful creatures Lovegood always espoused, even though Snape found himself beyond irritated. But now … this! Was the man mad? Was he suicidal?

When Potter had given his story to _The Quibbler_ in defiance of Umbridge, Snape had been scornful at first but he quickly saw that it had been a stroke of genius. Potter had got his version of the return of the Dark Lord out in spite of Fudge and his minions. Unfortunately, the Dark Lord had still had months of Ministry-backed disbelief in which to regain supporters and make new alliances within the Ministry. However, Lovegood's belief in Potter had been vindicated and _The Daily Prophet_ had even bought the story from him.

If Lovegood believed his own story, then he knew that the Dark Lord now controlled the Ministry. Did he think for one moment he would escape a backlash from the Ministry for this? Snape never would have expected this from the man who had no more seemed to dwell in the world of harsh reality than his daughter did.

"… yeah, Cruciate the daughter and the father'll soon fall into line!"

"Be quiet!" snapped Snape, his attention brought back by the threat to the girl on the first week of term. "She is a Pure-blood. The Dark Lord won't take kindly to such treatment. At least, not yet. I'm sure her father can be persuaded …"

oooOOOooo

The Dark Lord had been furious when Snape had arrived although Narcissa didn't seem to know why. All she could tell Snape was that the Dark Lord had been away on the first day of term and had returned distracted and angry, and had remained angry and vengeful ever since. He was spending a great deal of time with the wandmaker and anyone who had been curious had been sorry. Malfoy was still recovering after an ill-advised enquiry. Narcissa breathlessly told Snape that she was desperately grateful that Draco was at Hogwarts, out of the way, when the Dark Lord had been shown the article in _The Quibbler_.

He paced around them now, each standing nervously, awaiting his displeasure.

"See to it, Selwyn, that Lovegood is spoken to," he hissed venomously.

As Selwyn acknowledged the order with a deep bow, Amycus pushed himself forward, gesturing accusingly at Snape.

"I said to torture his child – the girl at the school – but Snape said not to cos she's a Pure-blood -"

Snape stepped forward, keeping his demeanour deferential.

"Perhaps if persuasion fails, my Lord. Parents can be so over-protective if their children are threatened. We are at such a delicate stage of your new regime."

The Dark Lord stared intently at Snape. Snape knew the Dark Lord had no compunction in torturing or killing children. During the last Wizarding war, the Dark Lord had used the children of his enemies and acolytes alike to secure compliance to his will, and had made known his enjoyment of it. There could be no appeal to the Dark Lord's conscience: Snape knew it did not exist. He could only hope that the Dark Lord would accept Snape's suggestion as a strategy to keep the Dark Lord as the power behind the throne, rather than be seen as protection of the pupils.

"You are," said the Dark Lord, "quite right." He glowered at Amycus who gulped and stood back quickly, realising he had spoken out of turn. "I'm sure Lovegood can be made to see sense. If not, however ... you know what you need to do. The students are _your_ responsibility, after all."

Snape nodded and bowed, alive to the irony that both of his masters entrusted the students to his offices: for good or ill.

As it was, Snape knew _The Quibbler_ was only published periodically. Miss Lovegood had some breathing space, at least. Barely a week into term and Snape could see that protecting the students could prove far more problematic than he had thought as the Carrows sniggered with sadistic anticipation, muttering how they would have the students practise on each other.

"Perhaps, the Dark Lord will let me teach your pupils my own brand of curses!" Dolohov rasped then he laughed with Bellatrix and Rodolphus. Snape couldn't guarantee that the Dark Lord wouldn't grant Dolohov his wish and he made a mental note to check on Poppy's stores for the ten potions Dolohov's particular curse required.

Thinking on that, he realised that, somehow, he would have to supplement all her stores without attracting her notice. It would be a difficult year – Post-Cruciatus Potion, Blood Replenishing Potion – all of them – he had no doubt, they would need all of them. And while he was at it, he decided to brew more of the Anti-Venin that was perfected on Arthur Weasley for Nagini's venom. After all, one could never know when the Dark Lord would order his snake to strike.

oooOOOooo

In their early morning call, Lupin had told Snape Idris and Alphard's plans to build a refuge in the outbuildings of the farmhouse for those Muggle-borns who would not - or could not leave - the country. The buildings would be warded against the running wolves on the nights of the full moon. It seemed they had planned very thoroughly. They had yet to discuss the Lydiard curse, but Lupin didn't want to push Idris too hard. He told Snape that Idris had taken the story of the curse very badly. It had shocked him to his core that his father had wrought such a Dark curse. However, Lupin was hopeful that Alphard was keen to break the curse. Snape knew Lupin believed that the lifting of the curse would help Tonks to understand that Lupin wasn't the man for her. Snape had difficulty believing they would be rid of her so easily – not now there was a child. But he didn't tell Lupin his reservations. It would wait – why ruin the only contact he had with Lupin by talking of _her_?

Then Snape told Lupin everything that had happened with him and the article in _The Quibbler_.

"When I get back from the Pack, I'll go to see Luna's father. As much as the truth needs to be put out there, there must be a way that doesn't endanger them both so much."

Snape agreed, and then told Lupin of the brewing schedule he'd set for himself so that the hospital wing would be fully stocked.

"Do you think the Carrows will carry out their threats?"

"I have no doubt they will, both to punish children themselves and to have them practise on each other. The Carrows have always enjoyed torture, especially of those who can't fight back," replied Snape wearily. "Last year, I tried to teach defensive skills comprehensively: shield charms, evasive manoeuvres and blocking, non-verbal curses, counter-curses. We'll soon find out whether anyone listened!"

Lupin rubbed his chin in thought.

"Perhaps, they should practise more constructively with each other, like they did with Harry – maybe they need a reminder of their last defence group," he said.

"You don't think they should keep their heads low and try to live through this, then?" retorted Snape.

"I don't think keeping their heads down will assist them in the long run, Severus. They need to learn to help themselves."

"They'll be punished if they're caught."

"I trust you," said Lupin simply. Snape closed his eyes to savour the words of trust, but he wasn't sure he deserved them.

"It won't always be me who catches them," said Snape softly.

Lupin covered his face with his hands and exhaled.

"They have to be able to defend themselves, Severus. Perhaps, you can suggest something to Minerva – in your own indirect way. Get her to alert the children to the danger," said Lupin with a sad smile.

Snape snorted. "Not bad thinking … for a Gryffindor. I'll announce to the Heads of House that I'll be drawing up a decree matching that of Umbridge two years ago. Even Longbottom can't miss as unsubtle a hint as that."

oooOOOooo

Poppy Pomfrey was one of the most organised people Snape had ever known – including himself! He stood at the doorway to the infirmary stores, taking in the ordered shelves and drawers. He had always preferred to order his own stores alphabetically – he recalled with a brief smile and a warm flush in his chest how he had ordered the larder of the farmhouse after Lupin had Claimed him. That had been four years ago. He drew a breath as he realised that this Christmas would be their fifth anniversary together. He could barely believe it.

He cursed himself for allowing his mind to wander, no matter how pleasantly, and focused on the infirmary stores. Poppy ordered stores according to ailment efficacy. It was ingenious really.

He incanted a revealing spell and requested 'headache': several potions were revealed as being efficacious for headaches. If he circumscribed his revealing spell to 'migraine headache', only two potions were revealed. _How clever._ His next request was 'fractured bones' and a further three potions and four balms were highlighted. 'Snake bite' revealed only potions for ordinary, non-magical snake bites – he had suspected as much. 'Dragon Pox' revealed the specific potion cures for that affliction, together with the other remedies for its side-effects and subsequent malaise.

Snape spent the next hour familiarising himself with Poppy's system and then Summoned a quill and parchment from her office to make a note of those potions and balms which were depleted or missing entirely.

Slughorn had been brewing all the requisite potions for the hospital wing since taking over the post of Potions Master last year and had carried on doing so, Snape knew from the various requisitions forms he had signed. What Snape needed to do now was to ensure that the stock included those potions Snape suspected would be required far too regularly, plus those which Slughorn would not necessarily consider necessary for school.

 _Post-Cruciatus Potion,_ thought Snape unhappily. _Why would anyone in their right minds think that was necessary for a school?_

"Well?" Poppy snapped, watching him from the door, her eyes narrowed with distrust. "Do I pass muster, Severus?"

Snape regarded her with his most impassive expression. Poppy had long been his ally, his friend, even his saviour on numerous occasions. The betrayal in her eyes, and the hurt and defensiveness in her voice was hard to stomach. It hit him harder now than at previous staff meetings as this was the first time they had been on their own together.

Poppy had been privy to his two great secrets: his spying and his Claiming by Lupin. She had nursed him through that first full moon apart. But the hard glint in her eyes made it clear what she thought of him now. How much he wanted just to tell her he was true to Dumbledore, true to Lupin, true to the Light. But he could no more tell her than he could Minerva. It would risk too much.

"Did you object to Albus inspecting your stores at the start of term?" he asked, his voice low and expressionless. He saw her chest heave with offence and knew it was at the use of Dumbledore's name.

" _Professor Dumbledore_ trusted me implicitly," she said, her head held high. Then he saw some emotion flicker in her eyes and knew she had wanted to add, _'As he trusted you.'_

"As do I," responded Snape, trying to keep his voice neutral. He breathed in deeply. "I need to ensure that your stores are fully prepared. I don't think I need to remind you that Hogwarts has changed -"

"No, indeed, you do not!"

"Then it's best that we are prepared, don't you think?" Snape knew he was coming perilously close to telling Poppy more than he ought, but then a commotion distracted him.

"Hoi, you daft besom!" shouted Amycus, as he supported his sister into the ward. "Get out here!"

"Your _friends,_ " she clipped, with a sneer to match Snape's own and then smoothed down her apron smartly and turned on her heel to attend to the Carrows. Snape followed, fuming at Amycus's rudeness.

"She's hurt. That bloody stupid disappearing step," growled Amycus as his sister simpered, her doughy face even more unprepossessing screwed up in pain, as her stubby fingers held her swelling, blackening ankle.

"There's no need to make such a fuss," huffed Poppy, waving Amycus away.

"Now, listen 'ere!" said Amycus roughly, raising his wand.

"That's enough!" said Snape icily, glaring at Amycus, who dropped his wand arm on seeing Snape, whilst still trying to maintain his scowl. "I suggest if a simple healing spell is beyond you, you show some respect to the witch you ask to cast it for you."

He could see from the corner of his eye Poppy's momentary surprise at his intervention, but he kept his cold gaze on Amycus who was looking stupidly resentful, like a scolded dog.

"I suggest you acquaint yourselves thoroughly with the idiosyncrasies of this castle, if you are to teach here," said Snape. "It normally takes the students less than a few weeks to learn the pitfalls -"

"Well, we didn't come 'ere for schoolin', did we?" interrupted Alecto, drawing in a sharp breath as Poppy cast quickly to heal her ankle.

"Schooled at 'ome, weren't we?" sneered Amycus.

Snape didn't bother to stifle a sneer of his own at this confirmation of his views of those who were educated at home, wishing he could have caught Poppy's eye to share the joke at the twins' expense.

"You don't say."

oooOOOooo

Snape spread out his papers on the desk. Somehow, even though he was no longer a Head of House or Potions Master, he seemed to have a greater workload than ever before. He had never really appreciated the amount of paperwork that the Headmaster had to deal with and he's set himself a rigid brewing timetable for the school, as well as the potions he brewed for the Dark Lord, successfully and unsuccessfully.

He had done nothing on the Dark Lord's selective poison and he knew he couldn't expect the Dark Lord just to forget about it. He would have to fabricate further failed experiments and even that took time. He hoped when Lupin came home, he would bring news from Alphard on further experimental balms; maybe Snape himself would be able to work with Alphard again if they could maintain the secrecy needed.

He re-ordered his papers again, taking out his researches into the Lycanthropic curse itself. He wanted to spend all his spare time on this – the cure for his beloved husband – but there was a more immediate danger for them – the curse they had to find a way to break: the Lydiard Curse. If they were to be free of Tonks, they had to break this curse.

Snape lowered the papers as a sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.

They could never be fully free of her though, could they? She carried Lupin's child – his son. Even if the curse could be broken and she could see how the curse had shaped her destiny and let Lupin go, she would still be mother to Lupin's son – the son who should have been his and Lupin's alone. Snape's jaw worked at the injustice of it.

As he was about to set quill to parchment to draw out the metre of the curse again, he felt the enchanted mirror in his pocket vibrate.

Lupin! But so early!

Snape swept to the ante-room so the portraits couldn't listen and took out the mirror from his robe, setting it on the table there.

"Remus, what's wrong?" he said quickly, seeing Lupin in the mirror, his face pale and stricken.

Lupin looked harassed as he raked his hands through his hair.

"She's here, Severus. Dora's here."

* * *


	114. Trust & Shame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Sexually Explict M/M. References to sexual violence.

"Why? How?" Snape spluttered, his just-dormant jealousy roaring to life in his gut.

"The Muggle-borns Harry got out of the Ministry – Dora was just on her way to work and ran into some of them who said they'd been released by Runcorn! Runcorn, for Merlin's sake! Harry was Polyjuiced as Runcorn! Anyway, she found out from them that Runcorn had advised them to flee the country. A lot of them were just going to go home, but she persuaded them to gather any children, money and belongings and meet with her at the first safe house on the route. It was a bit of a task because only half of those had wands but, well – she did it!"

Snape couldn't help thinking that Lupin sounded gratified. His gut twisted and he looked away from Lupin.

"You sound ... proud," he muttered.

"Severus?" Lupin called softly, and Snape looked at Lupin again. "I'm pleased. I'm pleased she helped save those people. I'm pleased they have a safe haven." Lupin sighed and spoke slowly and carefully. "I'm pleased whenever any of the Order manages a success with the odds so stacked against us. That doesn't mean I'm happy to see her here. I'm not.

"She looked so hopeful when she saw me. Started introducing me as her husband." Lupin puffed in exasperation. "I knew I'd have to try to let her down. I didn't want to embarrass her in front of people she'd saved, but I can't let her get away with that. Not after everything ..." Lupin's expression became clouded as he spoke and then he waved his hand as if pushing away an unpleasant memory, before he focused again on Snape, and gave a slight smile.

"Alphard helped, he really did. He took charge of Dora and the escapees. They're all housed in Alphard's tent for tonight."

Snape felt his anger begin to burn but Lupin interrupted his train of thought with unerring accuracy. "I'll be on watch with some of the others until morning, don't worry."

Was Snape really so transparent? With Lupin, it would appear he was – or Lupin had just learnt how Snape thought.

"With Alphard's help, we managed to persuade Dora to leave in the morning and help those going over to Ireland. I tried to persuade her to stay there – I mean, well, she won't be able to go back to work now, not now she's been seen helping the escapees."

"Perhaps – it's for the best," said Snape. "I dare say, her pregnancy will show soon. Given who the father is," Snape smiled ruefully, grateful Lupin wasn't with him to detect his sourness, "her absence from the Ministry can only be a good thing."

Lupin blinked as he took in what Snape said.

"God, Severus. You're right. She should stay out of harm's way." Lupin looked pensive and Snape wondered if Lupin meant to ask Tonks to stay with the Pack. _Where he can care for her ..._ his traitorous mind whispered. His jaw clamped painfully.

"I'll speak to her again," Lupin continued. "Ted still hasn't registered with the Commission – can't blame him for that. But he can't stay put. At the last meeting, I tried to convince them to go abroad but they won't listen."

Of course they wouldn't. Snape didn't believe Tonks would ever relinquish her misbegotten claim to Lupin. He couldn't hold his tongue any longer.

"I hate her being there with you," Snape hissed. "What if she ... if she ..." He found himself tongue-tied, just as he always used to get when jealousy seized him. It was almost painful to recall how he would seek desperate reassurance from Lily but he managed to push her away just the same – into the arms of another. Would he do it again now? Would his self-destructive instincts overwhelm his love once more?

But Lupin's eyes – those eyes he loved so well – were soft with understanding and patience.

"She's not _with_ me, Severus. She's just in the same place. That doesn't mean anything – not to me, anyway."

"I'm sorry, Remus," Snape muttered. "But you know she can't be trusted around you ..."

"You must trust _me_ , Severus. You must – or you will drive yourself mad. You know how I feel about what she took from me! Why would I let that happen again?" he asked plaintively.

_Because she carries your son – the child you've longed for!_

It was an instantaneous thought, but it struck at his heart but he bit his lip to prevent it escaping.

"It's you I love." Lupin's voice, like a gentle caress, brought Snape back to look into Lupin's eyes again. "I wish you were here, Severus. With me, so I could comfort you. Please trust me."

Snape knew to carry on would be to drive a wedge between them – he knew how his jealousy could twist inside him until it distorted the truth. Lupin had told him she was there. He could have hidden that from Snape and avoided having to explain anything to him. But then - he realised that Lupin had told him because he _needed_ Snape's support and strength, not Snape's own insecurity magnifying his fears. Snape felt a sudden surge of shame course through him.

"I love you, Remus," said Snape. "I wish I could be there for you too."

He knew that was exactly what Lupin wanted to hear as he saw the relief in his beloved face, the soft smile begin on his lips, crinkling the skin by his eyes.

Lupin touched the mirror with his fingertip and Snape matched it with his own. Just glass between them, but over four hundred and seventy miles. One Apparition, and he could be there. It hurt to say goodbye.

oooOOOooo

Snape had promised himself that he would trust Lupin. He had gone to bed with every intention of sleeping, knowing he would wake up early to speak to Lupin again. All would be well if he could but trust. But no matter how he tried to calm his mind, he could not. Visions of her voluptuousness enfolding Lupin, entrancing him, enticing him, seducing him, pervaded his dreams and he sat bolt upright, sick to the pit of his stomach. He stared at the ceiling, dark eyes glittering.

Why could he not be confident in Lupin's love? He _knew_ Lupin loved him. He _didn't_ doubt it. Why did his own imaginings torture him so? Why did his own mind play games with him, his jealousy perverting his own feelings against him?

He laid down again and screwed his eyes shut, willing himself to sleep – in sleeping, he could prove his complete trust in Lupin.

It didn't work.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw them as he had seen them in the Pensieve: Lupin grinding into her body, her lips parted in joy, her eyelids fluttering, her hair becoming a more intensely lurid pink with her rising orgasm, knowing that was when she had conceived their child – the son who should have been his!

His eyes flew open. He could not bear it!

He slid from his bed, agitated and sickened.

The bedside clock said 1 a.m. _So early!_ He'd hardly slept at all. He raked his hands through his hair and went to the bathroom. Holding onto the sides of the basin, he looked at himself in the mirror. He already had shadows of worry beneath his eyes. Now he had Lupin back, he couldn't bear the thought of anything coming between them – he wasn't sure he could cope with such a wrench again. It had taken all his emotional reserves to survive the Darkness he had had to immerse himself in. Lupin had become his guiding light. He exhaled roughly.

What he really wanted was to see Lupin – to know he could be with him, as a husband should be, whenever they desired it.

The idea took root. He wanted nothing more or less than to go to Lupin right then. The thought that he could not – should not – ignited a fire of anger in him.

Could he risk it? The Tracing Jinx – was it gone? How would he explain to the Dark Lord if he discovered Snape had been to Snowdon? He couldn't get under the cover of the Pack's protective enchantments without being invited in by Idris.

He paced the length and breadth of his drawing room, his fingers snapping impatiently against his legs as he strode.

Then he recalled the Gillyweed growing in the microclimate of the lake at the base of the mountain. _Yes!_ That would work: if questioned, he would have been gathering wild ingredients. He had a cover! That made up his mind and he called Lupin through the mirror.

oooOOOooo

Snape Apparated precisely to the summit of Cadr Idris. He breathed in enormously, filling his lungs with the astringent air of the mountain that was so very welcome after a stifling night of disturbed sleep, and he stared out at the night-time panorama of stars, calm and yet excited too. At first, Lupin had been shocked that Snape was prepared to risk travelling to him, but Snape had convinced him and Lupin had got a release from one of Idris's sons to leave his watch.

Even without the crack of Apparition, Snape would have known Lupin was behind him: he could smell Lupin's musk, all the headier for being with the Pack.

Before he could turn to face Lupin, Lupin's hands fell on his shoulders and his face nuzzled into Snape's neck. Snape's head fell back in anticipation of delight.

"My Severus," Lupin breathed, his hot breath playing on Snape's jaw line, thrilling him to the core, as his fingers spread up Snape's face, turning it towards his own, and then kissing him – softly at first, and then more insistently.

It took Snape's breath away – the soft lips on his, the tender tongue, the fingers wrapping into his hair, the warm body pressing insistently against his own, gradually lowering Snape onto the great stone, as he undid Snape's travelling cloak, and then the rest of his clothes followed by his own, until they were quite naked together.

Snape had expected the hot, tempestuous urgency of the wolf-within after days with the Pack, but Lupin clearly had other ideas. His movements were restrained, his touch so light, stroking Snape's skin with his fingertips, his tongue and lips: soft sweeping movements, igniting Snape's nerves and building the sensations as light mountain breezes wafted against his skin, making it prickle even more as Lupin's lips traced a sensuous line across his chest and down his body, his hands now more demanding against his ribs and then his hips as Lupin's tongue played lightly around his navel. Snape felt the shock of werewolf magic jolt through him and he arched suddenly and Lupin's hands pressed against the small of his back, a loud moan escaping from him as Lupin took him in his mouth, mouthing and licking him, each movement slow and languorous, driving his senses to their very peak of intense pleasure, his groin throbbing with need.

Snape reached down, hooking his hands under Lupin's arms to bring him back to face him, to kiss him, taking fistfuls of his hair possessively.

"My beloved," Snape just managed to breathe, as he released the kiss, his body now trembling with urgent longing.

"Yes, yours," Lupin murmured. "Always yours."

Lupin took Snape's hands from his hair and kissed them then placed them gently above Snape's head, a gesture requesting his submission. Snape felt his skin thrill, a small moan escaping him as he kept his hands above his head, leaving his body open for Lupin's sensuous lips to draw his skin in, softly licking and sucking his exposed throat down to his nipples, as his gently questing fingers prepared and excited him. Then Lupin pushed into him deliciously slowly until he was seated in Snape fully. Lupin still didn't rush. He held his weight on his arms, pushing in as far in as he could, his own eyes unfocused in pleasure. The heat and fullness Snape felt throbbed throughout his body and he whispered, "Please!" to Lupin's ear.

Only then did Lupin move, oh so slowly and controlled, never taking his eyes from Snape's own, murmuring encouragement to him, building his delight inch by hot inch. All Snape's fear and jealousy, his worryingly complete dependence on Lupin for his mental well-being – it was all wiped away in the delirium of Lupin's prolonged and inexpressibly tender love-making until Snape could no longer hold on, and he came with a drawn out moan on the powerful surge of his release followed within moments by Lupin's own, still controlled, even though Snape could feel the tremulous tension in Lupin's body. Still, Lupin did not fall onto Snape's body but lowered himself so they could kiss, albeit breathlessly, and hold each other until they calmed.

Lupin pulled Snape up to lean against him, wrapping his cloak around them both, his strong arms enfolding Snape as he kissed the crown of his head lightly. Snape's cares were soothed as, wrapped up together, they murmured gentle words of love and of their hopes and fears, and watched the sky gradually lighten for the dawn of the new day.

It was time to get back to the castle. Merlin knew, Snape didn't want to leave! Just as they were now, that's what Snape wanted for their future together – to be made up of dawns like this one, wrapped up in each other's love.

oooOOOooo

Snape quickly incanted the complex charms to allow him access to the castle grounds, re-set them and then strode the long, winding path to the castle, his step the lighter for having been with Lupin, his heart a little less heavy even as his lower body throbbed. He just wanted Lupin home with him – but if he couldn't have that just yet, this would do. Tonks would leave later that morning and Lupin would not have to fend off her unwanted advances. Snape knew he must keep his mind from her: she troubled him too much – just too much for his comfort and – perhaps - for safety.

As he made his way through the corridor leading to his concealed quarters, he became aware of a whimpering, then a crackle of magic charging, and a ringing shout of, _"CRUCIO!"_ followed by harrowing screams mingled with ugly laughter. Snape ran to the voices, his wand at the ready.

As he ran around the corner to a disused room and blasted the door open, his eyes found the writhing, partially-clad body of Luna Lovegood, Crabbe stood over her, twisting his wand as his face twisted with the Darkness of the curse. Then Snape saw Goyle kneeling near Miss Lovegood, his trousers and pants around his ankles. The Slytherins spun around, their shock at Snape's intervention evident in their dim-witted faces.

Rage, hot and powerful, exploded in Snape.

 _"STUPEFY!"_ he bellowed and the Slytherins fell heavily where they stood.

Miss Lovegood tried to sit and clasp her torn robes around her bruised frame. Quickly averting his eyes, Snape offered her his travelling cloak to cover herself as she brushed tears from her face. She placed the cloak around her shoulders and, still trembling, tried to stand but could not.

Snape's anger was not yet spent, but he also realised he had made a terrible error of judgement in acting so precipitously. He summoned Tippy to fetch Poppy as quickly as possible as his revulsion at Goyle and Crabbe's cruelty warred with his concern that he had blown his cover quite spectacularly.

He stood away from Miss Lovegood as she tried once again to stand. He wanted to go to her, to help her - he even had the Potions in his cloak which could help to heal her – but he dared not. Feeling every bit as helpless as he had when he was young as Miss Lovegood shivered in his cloak, he pointed his wand instead at Goyle, and the boy was reclothed and then at both Crabbe and Goyle.

First, he cast a silent _Accio!_ Three wands flew to him, the boys' and Miss Lovegood's.

 _"Incarcerous!"_ he then hissed, his eyes smouldering with anger, as bonds shot from his wand around both youths. Then he passed Miss Lovegood's wand to her.

"Thank you, Professor Snape," Miss Lovegood said weakly, slotting the wand behind her ear and shifting uncomfortably on the floor. Snape suspected she was in pain but he didn't dare show too much sympathy. She pulled up her legs under the cloak and hugged them to herself, still making barely any noise at all.

Snape felt so shamed by her bravery and stoicism, wishing he could offer her comfort but knowing he could not – not to one perceived as a blood-traitor. Then he heard the click-clacking of shoes hurrying down the corridor and thanked Merlin that Poppy was nearly there.

"Oh, Luna dear!" said Poppy softly, bustling past Snape as she headed straight towards Miss Lovegood, by-passing the Stupefied Slytherins trussed up on the floor. She gently coaxed her charge to her feet, wrapping Snape's cloak around her more tightly as she trembled, and then withdrew a couple of phials from her pinafore pockets and helped Miss Lovegood to drink them.

"I'll need help transporting Luna, Severus. She's really not strong enough -"

"I can manage -" the girl gasped.

"Nonsense!"

Snape nodded and Levitated a nearby chair.

"Are you coming?" Poppy asked Snape briskly, as she helped Miss Lovegood into the chair.

"No," Snape answered flatly. "I must deal with these two."

"Deal with them?" Poppy snorted. "They should be in Azkaban for what they've done! I dare say you won't even have the gumption to expel them!" Poppy turned back to Miss Lovegood, who regarded Snape with a strangely wistful expression. "Come, my dear. I'll look after you now."

Poppy raised her wand and Levitated the chair and its occupant down the corridor, casting one more furious glance at Snape and his charges.

oooOOOooo

Snape had Levitated both Crabbe and Goyle to the Headmaster's office. Tippy brought him a robe to put over his shirt and trousers so he would be suitably formal when he Rennervated them.

"What has happened, Severus?" asked Dumbledore. Snape cast a Silencing Charm over himself and the portrait.

"They attacked Luna Lovegood," said Snape, his gut turning over once more. "The Cruciatus, and I believe they tried to – to rape her. I don't know yet if they actually did. Poppy will tell me."

Snape could have sworn he saw the portrait's eyes blaze.

"Isn't this the time you normally patrol?"

Snape's stomach lurch sickeningly. _Did Dumbledore know Snape had left his post? How could he?_ He knew the answer as soon as he asked the question: the portraits – the other portraits would have told him.

"I caught them in the act," Snape snapped defensively, refusing to look at the portrait, even though he could feel all the residual euphoria from his and Lupin's love-making shrivelling inside.

"You promised me, Severus. You gave me your word would keep the students safe, but you put an assignation with Remus first."

The heat of shame flamed up Snape's face but then a rush of anger overcame that other emotion. He could have been summoned by the Dark Lord. Would that have been his fault too?

"No, Albus," Snape hissed. "You will not do this to me. You will not lay this at my feet! Not when you know ... you know what I've had to live through! How dare you?"

His righteous anger had hold of him now: all that he had given to Dumbledore – all he was giving to Dumbledore still – to the Light! He turned to the portrait, his dark eyes glittering.

"If I put Remus first, I would not be here at all, Albus! I would be with him! Every minute of every day!" he shouted. "But I'm not. We both do the work you asked of us – keep the promises made. More than was asked. No! You cannot keep me from him. I will not do that for you!" Suddenly, he felt deflated and sad. "You don't know what it's like to have nothing but Darkness. Remus keeps me strong. Otherwise ... there would be nothing -" Snape choked on the sentence, pushing the remembered anguish back.

"Severus," said Dumbledore, his tone conciliatory although barely noticeable to any who didn't know him as well as Snape. Snape breathed heavily to calm himself and then nodded to Dumbledore to continue.

"What will you do with them?"

Snape sighed as his shoulders slumped wearily. "Realistically, I don't know how far I can punish them – if I can punish them at all. If I had my way, I'd call the Aurors." Snape sneered. "Yaxley's one of Goyle's father's old class-mates. He'd just set them free. Damn them!" he snarled, closing his eyes against the memories that surged over him of the times he had been helpless and hopeless. He knew exactly how Miss Lovegood would be feeling now.

"Will you call Horace?"

Snape snorted in derision.

"He has never been of any use!" Snape retorted, bitterly. Slughorn had certainly never been of any use to Snape when he had been young.

"Still, he is their Head of House. He should be told."

"Oh, I'll tell him all right!"

No-one had ever happened on him when Malfoy or any of the others tormented him or any of the other half-bloods. Slughorn had never patrolled, even in the dungeons.

"There had never been any hint of this, Albus. These boys – stupid, yes. Cruel, even. But not this."

"Not when you were Head of House, Severus," said Dumbledore. "You knew what to watch for. How to guide them. Others guide their actions now. Others for whom power is the ultimate goal, and degradation of others a reward. This is everything we are fighting against, Severus."

Snape repressed the urge to point out that Dumbledore was fighting nothing anymore. That was for those who were left behind.

"You don't need to remind me." He exhaled heavily. "I will find a way, Albus."

"I do not doubt you, Severus."

With that, Snape cancelled the charm and then turned to the Slytherins, still bound on the floor, wondering how to retrieve his own appalled reaction and cover his tracks. He could not let them see where his true loyalties lay.

He Conjured two chairs then Levitated the boys into sitting positions then Vanished their bonds.

_"Rennervate!"_

The boys came to, each of them looking stupefied as their eyes came into focus and they looked around themselves in fright. Snape stood straight on the dias before them, towering over them.

"Well? Explain yourselves!"

"Professor Carrow said to do it," blurted Crabbe, looking at Goyle for support. "Said to take 'er watch and punish anyone out in the corridors!"

Snape's eyes narrowed in anger. _How dare she refuse to take her watch? Lazy – stupid – ignorant ..._

"And did Professor Carrow tell you to use the Cruciatus Curse?" asked Snape, silkily

"Well – yeah," said Crabbe. "Taught it us herself. Wiv 'er brother. Part of Dark Arts, innit?" Crabbe looked surly now, as if he somehow thought that answer would impress Snape.

"Professor Carrow told you to use this spell on a pure-blood?" Snape cocked his head to one side, fixing Crabbe's small, piggy eyes with his own, reading the oaf easily. Now, Crabbe gaped open-mouthed.

"A pure-blood, Mr. Crabbe! Proper, fully magical blood! I have given no instructions for pure-bloods to be placed under the Cruciatus!" Snape could barely believe what he was saying. His face twisted with revulsion, but for his own perceived betrayal of those he loved: half-blood Lupin and Muggle-born Lily.

"Professor Carrow said she needed a lesson!" Crabbe sneered. "Well, we taught 'er one, didn't we?" He sniggered stupidly, his demeanour showing he thought he was untouchable.

At that moment, Snape hated that youth – hated him so passionately for perpetuating the violence and degradation pure-bloods considered their entitlements.

"No, Mr. Crabbe. Lessons are not for you to teach. What is to stop me expelling you – right here and now?"

"My dad!" Crabbe answered back. "My dad'd stop you."

"No. No – I don't think he would."

He swirled towards Goyle.

"And you, Mr. Goyle! With your trousers open like a savage! Are you claiming Professor Carrow told you to sexually assault students at this school? Is that your claim?"

Gregory Goyle blinked stupidly, clearly never thinking his actions would be discovered, let alone punished. Such was the arrogance of the pure-blooded.

"But ... but you're on our side!" he stuttered.

"Be grateful that I am. Can you even imagine what would have happened if Professor McGonagall or Professor Flitwick had caught you? Or students from other Houses? Do you think they would spare you?"

"But it's Loony Lovegood! No-one cares about 'er!" Goyle protested.

"But they hate us more," hissed Snape. "Do you want our great work to fail?"

He saw the boys' chest puff out with pride to be included in Snape's allusion to the Dark Lord. He very much wanted to strike them both but he had to dissemble and control them instead.

"'Course not," mumbled Crabbe, now pink with embarrassment.

"You will not descend to the behaviour of half-breeds like Greyback, do you understand me?" said Snape, glowering at Goyle, who blanched under Snape's intense glare. "You will not give the blood-traitor and the impure of blood reason to criticise us, or their parents reason to take their children from this school. You will do nothing without the direct oversight of your professors. I do not want to have to report your failure to the Dark Lord. Do I make myself clear?"

"Y-yes, Professor Snape," blurted Goyle, and Crabbe nodded gratefully.

"No second chances. Now - get – out."

oooOOOooo

It was still early but there would be no rest for Snape now. He Disllusioned himself and made his way to the hospital wing. As he approached, he disabled Poppy's alarms, as was the Headmaster's prerogative, and slid silently into the wing. Poppy was sleeping in the cot in her office and Snape cast a Morpheus Charm on her to ensure she did not waken then he read the Ravenclaw's notes, taking in the detail of the Cruciatus and the attempted rape ... 'attempted'. Snape exhaled heavily, closing his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Merlin! He _had_ got there in time!

Relief, albeit tempered by the torture she had suffered, washed over him. He closed the file and made his way into the ward.

Miss Lovegood slept, propped up against a number of pillows, her mess of dirty blonde hair spilling over them. Poppy had cleansed her and healed her cuts and bruises, that was obvious - but Snape knew there would be other wounds – emotional ones – that would not heal so readily.

He turned on his heel to leave when Miss Lovegood spoke.

"Thank you, Professor Snape," she said, her lilting voice only just audible. "I knew you were on our side."

Snape's head snapped towards her.

"What on earth do you mean, Miss Lovegood?"

"It's why I was out of my dorm, Professor. I asked the portraits to let me know if you left the castle so I could see Professor Dumbledore. I saw the way he watched you when you caught us. He still trusts you."

"Silly girl!" he snapped waspishly, even as his stomach turned over with a flutter of panic. Her otherworldly gaze never left his, and he was struck quite forcefully by her otherness – she was an outsider - just like him. He felt oddly protective towards her. But she couldn't know this thing or even suspect it - it was just too dangerous. Snape took a step towards her, shamed once more, knowing Dumbledore would never have done to a student what he was about to do.

"Have you told anyone else about this?"

She tilted her head. "No. They wouldn't believe me anyway." She sighed. "I know what you have to do. I trust you."

Snape nodded and levelled his wand.

_"Obliviate."_

* * *

**.**

 


	115. The Greater Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes from Chapters 13, 18 and 35 of DH are in bold and © J.K. Rowling

**.**

The meetings Snape had held that morning had taken their toll on him.

His meeting with the Carrows had had to be finely judged. He pinched his nose. ' _Didn't they all?'_ he thought with exasperation.

As with Crabbe and Goyle, he had left the twins under no illusions of the stupidity of their behaviour. His righteous rage easily took the guise of protectiveness of his master's great cause – that their laziness could cost the trust of pure-blood parents, and Snape would not shield them from their master's wrath if they did more damage than any Mudbloods or blood traitors could hope for in their wildest dreams. By the time Snape had finished with them, the Carrows had begged for his silence with promises of their fidelity to anything – _anything_ – he asked of them.

A shard of cold satisfaction sliced through his fear of discovery. Of course, Snape knew better than to trust them but he knew they were scared of how he could damage them with the Dark Lord. He smiled at them – a cold, hard, predatory smile.

"You will never leave your post to students again?"

"No, n-n-never," stuttered Alecto.

"You will not encourage them to follow the example of the Malfoys? To take without asking ..." Snape's head tilted to one side as he continued silkily, toying with them in their evident discomfort. "You know how the Dark Lord despises those too weak to control their base urges?" He strode around the desk and stood above the twins on the dias, and lowered his voice to a mere whisper. "Encouraging those boys to seek anything other than the purification of the power and excellence of magic? The Dark Lord placed you here to accomplish this for him – and for no other purpose – do you understand?"

The twins were entranced by the thought that such _nobility_ of purpose was expected of them – that they – brutish and ugly in person and of spirit – were even capable of imparting such excellence! Snape mastered his natural sneer at their gullibility – they were so _easily_ led.

And as they had left, happy and full of their own self-importance, so the Heads of Houses had arrived - full of anger and vitriol, led by an indignant Minerva and an openly hostile Filius. All four of them clamoured for answers from him as he sat impassively at his desk.

"Quiet!" he hissed venomously and flicked his wand, Summoning four chairs which unceremoniously bumped into the backs of his visitors' legs. "And sit!"

Snape himself stood.

"Yes, Miss Lovegood was attacked by two students of Slytherin House early this morning." He paused, glaring at each Head of House. "I caught them whilst I was on patrol and ensured Miss Lovegood received prompt medical attention -"

"And suppose you think that absolves-" Minerva began.

"The question should be -" Snape cut across Minerva, repressively, "what was Miss Lovegood doing creeping around the castle at that time in the morning?"

"Are you saying that Luna is in some way responsible for being attacked? Blame her rather than the animals that attacked her?" barked Filius.

"The lesson I would like each of you to take away from this – ah – débâcle is to impress upon the members of your Houses _not_ to be out after lights-out and - _up to no good_."

"That is perfidious!" Filius scowled. "You are blaming the victim! You have no honour, Severus!" His chair clattered back as Filius stood and stormed from the room, eliciting a squeak of dismay from Pomona. Slughorn watched, slack-jawed.

" _Never_ ," said Minerva, her eyes hard and intense, her tone scathing, "did Filius ever have cause to walk out on Professor Dumbledore! Do these children mean nothing to you at all, Severus?"

Minerva's use of Dumbledore's title did not escape Snape: he understood she thought he had relinquished his right to call Dumbledore by his given name. He felt the sting of it and couldn't pretend that he considered the sting unwarranted. He was, after all, Dumbledore's killer.

Snape affected an air of bored indifference.

"The perpetrators have been warned, _Professor McGonagall._ It will not happen again."

" _Warned?_ Those boys assaulted a lone female student, tried to rape her! Dear God, Severus! They used an Unforgiveable ..."

Bile rose in Snape's throat as he replied, "The Cruciatus curse is part of the curriculum now, Professor. But -" he hesitated as if considering, "its _inappropriate_ use will not be tolerated."

"Inappro ... inappropriate? You will do nothing?" Minerva exclaimed in horror. "No punishment?"

For a brief and blinding moment, Snape felt the resurgence of an old anger that the guilty had so often gone unpunished, especially when the victim had been Snape himself, whether the perpetrators had been Slytherins or Minerva's beloved Gryffindors.

"Perhaps … I am more like Professor Dumbledore than you care to admit, hm?" he said silkily, leaning back on his desk and steepling his fingers.

Minerva's mouth set into a grim line of distaste.

"No, Severus. You could _never_ be like Albus." Minerva stood smartly, a gesture quickly followed by Pomona and Slughorn. "We will ensure the corridors are patrolled at all times by those of us who _do_ care about the well-being of our students."

Snape inclined his head with a small, sour smile.

"A fine idea, Professor. I'm sure the Carrows will appreciate their free evenings."

"You are a _disgrace_ ," Minerva hissed. With a sharp nod of her head, she turned on her heel smartly and left.

Snape said nothing as he watched the three leave. No-one would know from his impassive face how the shame coursed under his skin, even though he knew his mendacity could keep the students safe.

For now.

His reverie was broken by the voice that had acted as his conscience so many times before.

"You did the best you could, Severus. Sometimes, these measures are unavoidable."

Snape turned to face the portrait, his mask slipping away.

"You never Obliviated a student," he said softly as a notion formed in his mind – a thought that seemed to become enormous as it slowly took shape. "You could have wiped Black's murderous prank from my mind. Then I wouldn't have known … become so fearful ... so vengeful."

"In retrospect, would you have preferred that, Severus?" Dumbledore gazed intently over his painted glasses. "To have taken your will from you? I knew the knowledge you had gained of your fellow student was dangerous for you to know – even more dangerous for Remus. Your choice of how to use that information could shape your life. But it had to be your choice."

Snape's anger subsided into resentment. He hated being reminded of his lifetime of poor choices, and he lashed out.

"Why didn't you expel Black and Potter? Why was my safety of so little worth?"

"James Potter was not involved ..."

Snape huffed in disgust.

"No, Severus, he was not. And your life always had worth, whether you believe or not." Dumbledore sat back in his chair and regarded Snape again and stroked his beard. It took Snape's breath away how alike the portrait was to the deceased sitter. "I am so sorry this sad business has opened old wounds for you," said Dumbledore gently, and Snape felt his shoulders slacken. "I understand how aggrieved you felt then – but had I expelled Sirius, even though he undoubtedly deserved it, have you considered what would have happened to Remus?"

"You had already sworn me to silence! What could have happened to Remus?" Snape snapped.

"Had I expelled Sirius Black, do you think for one minute that Walburga and Orion Black would have not dragged the true reason from their son? As Dark a family as the Wizarding world has ever produced ... Veritaserum, if he had been lucky." Dumbledore raised his index finger in emphasis. "They would have seen Remus drummed out of school, with all the attendant publicity they could manage. And I do not believe they would have spared you either, Severus – a half-blood with no family or connections bringing a complaint against the heir to the House of Black?"

Snape stared at the portrait as an unpleasant sensation crawled under his skin with the realisation that dawned on him – two decades on – Dumbledore had not only protected Potter and Black – he had protected Lupin – he had protected Snape himself from the vengeance of the Blacks – he had tried to protect them all the only way he could ... with a compromise.

It sickened him – not with anger – but with a new understanding derived from what he done that very morning and it pierced him like a knife that the notion he had vilified for so long might have to become part of his own methods.

"The greater good?" Snape muttered, disliking even the taste of it in his mouth. Dumbledore, however, smiled sadly.

"Call it the greater good, if you will. Certainly, it was the path by which most benefitted. Remus could continue his education; you could remain in the Wizarding world without retribution. I did what I could to ameliorate the nightmares your knowledge gave you but I did not accede to your wish for vengeance. Better Sirius was here than under the Dark tutelage of his family." The portrait sighed heavily. "Now, you understand what you must juggle – the mantle of responsibility, even in a school, is a heavy one, is it not?"

Snape felt a chill in his bones. He had always been so sure that Dumbledore had been wrong in those decisions where he espoused the greater good. Now, his certainty was shaken, but then he felt a resurgence of defensiveness again as he remembered all the people Dumbledore had Obliviated of Snape's relationship with Lupin to keep Snape's cover when the Dark Lord returned, especially as Snape considered Tonks's pregnancy was a direct consequence of Dumbledore's interference in his life.

"It isn't always right, not even to preserve my cover," grumbled Snape, mutinously. "Grindelwald had _that_ inscribed over the prison as Nurmengard – from the mouth of a scoundrel!" Snape raised his chin defensively but Dumbledore looked at him with a maddening smile of understanding.

"I know you do not believe I understand the depth of your feelings for Remus, or what you have suffered." Dumbledore leant forward, his hands on the arms of his high-backed chair, his voice soft and confidential. "I loved once. As frightening a conflagration of emotion and desire as I could ever have dreamt -" Dumbledore's voice trailed away.

Snape found himself startled by Dumbledore's admission and then felt shamed: there had been a time when he would have sneered at such feelings himself – before he realised how brightly true love could shine in his very being.

"- but for me, Severus -" Dumbledore's voice became faraway, "- it was such a terrible mistake – I was so blinded by it – intoxicated!"

Snape waited, but Dumbledore seemed lost in his thoughts, then he closed his eyes and rested his head back and asked a question Snape had certainly not been expecting.

"Did you finish Miss Skeeter's book?"

"I read some of it. But it was so tawdry," moaned Snape, mildly offended that Dumbledore should think he would find interest in her gossip-mongering.

"I think," said Dumbledore slowly. "I think there will be a chapter there which may show you that - just possibly – I understand a little more than you think."

Snape glowered at the portrait, remembering how Dumbledore told them once that he had been in love but it had ended badly – so badly, in fact, that Dumbledore had foresworn romantic love. Now that Snape had Lupin's love, he could not understand what could have made Dumbledore relinquish that which Snape found so life-affirming.

"Can't you just tell me?" snapped Snape, not wanting to have to read any more of Skeeter's vile prose.

"Even now, Severus – it is too painful."

Snape closed his eyes, regretting his intemperate outburst immediately. He Summoned the book to himself and ran his fingers across the acid-green lettering, suddenly unwilling to find out why it should be too painful after one hundred years.

"Read the chapter headings to me, Severus. I will know which is the correct one."

Snape leafed to the contents page and read out each of the chapter headings until he came to one **entitled 'The Greater Good'**.

"I believe - that will be the one," said Dumbledore, the facsimile twinkle in his eyes seeming to diminish.

Snape read, but not aloud, even though the silence seemed to become more oppressive as he read.

Of course, he knew of Dumbledore's Hogwarts years, of the prizes and accomplishments, but what really did he know of Dumbledore's personal life other than his odd brother? Snape realised as he read that he knew very little. He had read a little of the sister when Madam Pince had first brought the book to him, but there was more here and his eyes widened as he read:

**_... ensuring the imprisonment of his sister. For, though her first gaoler had died, there was no change in the pitiful condition of Ariana Dumbledore. Her very existence continued to be known only to those few outsiders who, like 'Dogbreath' Doge, could be counted upon to believe in the story of her 'ill-health'._ **

"Your sister," said Snape. "Was she ill?"

"Yes," answered Dumbledore, his eyes now glassy. Snape looked away quickly. "There were those who believed Ariana was a Squib - she was anything but." Dumbledore sighed heavily. "When she was a small child, Ariana was attacked by a group of Muggle boys who witnessed her accidental magic. She was never the same." The portrait regarded Snape, and even in magical oils, Snape felt as if Dumbledore could still peer into his soul. "My father took revenge on those boys, Severus. He died in Azkaban for that crime."

Snape shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He knew that Dumbledore had always considered Snape's desire for vengeance his greatest flaw.

"My mother dedicated herself to caring for Ariana, who had terrifying bouts of uncontrolled magic. I never understood the toll taking care of her took on my mother. Like the self-important teenager I was, I only saw my own wants and needs. I wanted to qualify then travel abroad – do _the Grand Tour_ ," he emphasised the words with sourness. "My mother put money by for me to do it too! It was all planned. Elphias and I were at The Leaky Cauldron ready to depart for Athens when the owl came ..."

Dumbledore's voice faded away and Snape tore his eyes away from the faraway look in Dumbledore's eyes and returned to the page he had been reading.

**_... bearing news of Dumbledore's mother's death. 'Dogbreath' Doge, who refused to be interviewed for this book, has given the public his own sentimental verison of what happened next. He represents Kendra's death as a tragic blow, and Dumbledore's decision to give up his expedition as an act of noble self-sacrifice._ **

**_Certainly, Dumbledore returned to Godric's Hollow at once, supposedly to 'care' for his younger brother and sister. But how much care did he actually give them?_ **

**_'He were a headcase, that Aberforth,' says Enid Smeek, whose family lived on the outskirts of Godric's Hollow at that time._** Smeek? Why did Snape recall that name? It would come to him, he was sure. He bent back to the book. **_'Ran wild. 'Course, with his mum and dad gone you'd have felt sorry for him, only he chucking goat dung at my head. I don't think Albus was fussed about him, I never saw them together, anyway.'_**

**_So what was Albus doing if not comforting his wild young brother? The answer, it seems, is ensuring the continued imprisonment of his sister. For, though her first gaoler had died, there was no change in the pitiful condition of Ariana Dumbledore. Her very existence continued to be known only to those few outsiders who, like 'Dogbreath' Doge, could be counted upon to believe in the story of 'ill-health'._ **

**_Another such easily satisfied friend of the family was Bathilda Bagshot, the celebrated magical historian who has lived in Godric's Hollow for many years. Kendra, of course, had rebuffed Bathilda when she first attempted to welcome the family to the village. Several years later, however, the author sent an owl to Albus at Hogwarts, having been favourably impressed by his paper on Trans-Species Transformation in_ ** **Transfiguration Today _. This initial contact led to acquaintance with the entire Dumbledore family. At the time of Kendra's death, Bathilda was the only person in Godric's Hollow who was on speaking terms with Dumbledore's mother._**

**_Unfortunately, the brilliance that Bathilda exhibited earlier in her life has now dimmed. 'The fire's lit, but the cauldron's empty,' as Ivor Dillonsby put it to me, or, in Enid Smeek's slightly earthier phrase, 'She's as nutty as squirrel poo.' Nevertheless, a combination of tried and tested reporting techniques enabled me to extract enough nuggets of hard fact to string together the whole scandalous story._ **

"Veritaserum, more like," huffed Snape, his anger mounting at the author's vitriol, and looked at Dumbledore's portrait once more and read out the offending passage. "Smeek! I remember her grandson – an illiterate oaf and it sounds like it's a family trait!"

Dumbledore smiled kindly. "The Smeeks were not fond of us, it is true." He sighed. "But you are right, I dread to think of what the 'tried and tested' techniques were which Rita utilised on poor Bathilda. I am sure she didn't limit herself to Veritaserum."

"You mean Legilimency?" asked Snape, his eyes narrowing.

"Very possibly. The last I saw of Bathilda, her mind was becoming ever cloudier. I doubt Bathilda recalls much in a lucid fashion any more for Veritaserum to be effective."

"She has dementia?"

"I believe so, Severus."

Snape stared at the book with revulsion and then continued.

**_Like the rest of the Wizarding world, Bathilda puts Kendra's premature death down to a 'backfiring charm', a story repeated by Albus and Aberforth in later years. Bathilda also parrots the family line on Ariana, calling her 'frail' and 'delicate'. On one subject, however, Bathilda is well worth the effort I put into procuring Veritaserum, for she, and she alone, knows the full story of the best-kept secret of Albus Dumbledore's life. Now revealed for the first time, it calls into question everything that his admirers believed of Dumbledore: his supposed hatred of the Dark Arts, is opposition to the oppression of Muggles, even his devotion to his own family._ **

**_The very same summer that Dumbledore went home to Godric's Hollow, now an orphan and head of the family, Bathilda Bagshot agreed to accept into her home her great nephew, Gellert Grindelwald._ **

Snape's breath caught as the realisation came to him. There had been references before to Grindelwald, hadn't there? It couldn't be! He felt his skin crawl under his clothes and he slowly turned to Dumbledore's portrait once more.

"Grindelwald?" he whispered, the prickling of his skin spreading as he perceived the unguarded look of misery on Dumbledore's face. "It was Grindelwald?"

Dumbledore nodded.

Snape flicked through the book to the photographs and saw **two teenage boys, both laughing immoderately. Dumbledore, now with elbow length hair, had a tiny, wispy beard. The boy beside** him **had a gleeful, wild look. His golden hair fell in curls to his shoulders.** The caption said: **_Albus Dumbledore, shortly after his mother's death, with his friend Gellert Grindelwald._**

Dumbledore had been in love with Grindelwald – a sheltered brilliant student meeting another brilliant mind – not to mention, handsome. It must have been liberating for Dumbledore. Snape looked at the photograph again: Grindelwald was indeed quite handsome and Dumbledore – so young! Auburn hair and just the beginnings of a beard. Before the turn into the twentieth century! Snape couldn't help his fascination.

"Read on and read aloud, Severus. Know the worst of me."

Snape turned slowly back to the page and read aloud:

_" **The name of Grindelwald is justly famous: in a list of Most Dangerous Dark Wizards of All Time, he would miss out on the top spot only because You-Know-Who arrived, a generation later, to steal his crown. As Grindelwald never extended his campaign of terror to Britain, however, the details of his rise to power are not widely known here.**_

**_Educated at Durmstrang, a school famous even then for its unfortunate tolerance of the Dark Arts, Grindelwald showed himself quite as precociously brilliant as Dumbledore. Rather than channel his abilities into the attainment of awards and prizes, however, Gellert Grindelwald devoted himself to other pursuits. At sixteen years old, even Durmstrang felt it could no longer turn a blind eye to the twisted experiments of Gellert Grindelwald, and he was expelled._ **

**_Hitherto, all that has been known of Grindelwald's next movements is that he 'travelled abroad for some months.' It can now be revealed that Grindelwald chose to visit his great aunt in Godric's Hollow, and that there, intensely shocking thought it will be for many to hear it, he struck up a close friendship with none other than Albus Dumbledore._ **

**_'He seemed a charming boy to me,' babbles Bathilda, 'whatever he became later. Naturally, I introduced him to poor Albus, who was missing the company of lads his own age. The boys took to each other at once.'_ **

**_They certainly did. Bathilda shows me a letter, kept by her, that Albus Dumbledore sent Gellert Grindelwald in the dead of night._ **

**_'Yes, even after they'd spent all day in discussion – both such brilliant young boys, they got on like a cauldron on fire – I'd sometimes hear an owl tapping at Gellert's bedroom window, delivering a letter from Albus! An idea would have struck him, and he had to let Gellert know immediately!'_ **

**_And what ideas they were. Profoundly shocking though Albus Dumbledore's fans will find it, her are the thoughts of their seventeen-year-old hero, as relayed to his new best friend:_ **

Snape stopped, almost unwilling to read further.

"Go on, Severus," coaxed Dumbledore.

**_Gellert –_** Snape coughed to clear his throat.

**_Your point about wizard dominance being FOR THE MUGGLES' OWN GOOD – this, I think, is the crucial point. Yes, we have been given power and, yes, that power gives us the right to rule, -_** Snape stopped and blinked fast. Had he really just read that? **_but it also gives us responsibilities over the ruled. We must stress this point, it will be the foundation stone upon which we build. Where we are opposed, as we surely will be, this must be the basis of all our counter-arguments. We seize control FOR THE GREATER GOOD._** Snape drew breath sharply and looked up to the portrait for reassurance that it was all a lie, but Dumbledore's eyes were closed. Snape turned back to the book and inhaled deeply, and continued once more. **_And from this is follows that where we meet resistance, we must use only the force that is necessary and no more. (This was your mistake at Durmstrang! But I do not complain, because if you had not been expelled, we would never have met.)_**

**_Albus_ **

Snape sat back and pushed the book away from himself, and let his hand cradle his mouth. The silence in the office pressed more heavily on him as Snape's mind almost felt stalled by what he had read.

_This could not be Albus! All my life he has been held up as a paragon of virtue, of nobility, insufferably so – always a golden Gryffindor._

"The greater good ..." Snape finally repeated.

"Yes. The phrase which became his mantra – it came from me. But there was worse than that."

Dumbledore's voice sounded old for the first time Snape could remember. He bent to the book and read on, his voice sounding so loud and obtrusive in the silence, through Skeeter's condemnations and vilifications and her self-satisfaction.

**_Astonished an appalled though his many admirers will be, this letter constitutes proof that Albus Dumbledore once dreamed of overthrowing the Statute of Secrecy, and establishing wizard rule over Muggles. What a blow, for those who have always portrayed Dumbledore as the Muggle-borns' greatest champion! How hollow those speeches promoting Muggle rights seems, in the light of this damning new evidence! How despicable does Albus Dumbledore appear, busy plotting his rise to power when he should have been mourning his mother, and caring for his sister!_ **

**_No doubt those determined to keep Dumbledore on his crumbling pedestal will bleat that he did not, after all, put his plans into action, that he must have suffered a change of heart, that he came to his senses. However, the truth seems altogether more shocking._ **

**_Barely two months into their great new friendship, Dumbledore and Grindelwald parted, never to see each other again until they met for their legendary duel. What caused this abrupt rupture? Had Dumbledore come to his senses? Had he told Grindelwald he wanted no more part in his plans? Alas, no._ **

**_'It was poor little Ariana dying, I think, that did it,' ..._ **

Snape stopped once more and swallowed, closing his eyes briefly. He suddenly found he didn't want to know any more. Dumbledore had said, " _Know the worst of me,"_ and Snape found himself fearful of what more he would learn. He steeled himself, and read on.

**_'It came as an awful shock. Gellert was there in the house when it happened, and he came back to my house all of a dither, gold me he wanted to go home the next day. Terribly distressed, you know. So I arranged a Portkey and that was the last I saw of him._ **

**_'Albus was beside himself at Ariana's death. It was so dreadful for those two brothers. They had lost everybody except each other. No wonder tempers ran a little high. Aberforth blamed Albus, you know, as people will under these dreadful circumstances. But Aberforth always talked a little madly, poor boy. All the same, breaking Albus's nose at the funeral was not decent. I would have destroyed Kendra to see her sons fighting like that across her daughter's body. A shame Gellert could not have stayed for the funeral ... he would have been a comfort to Albus, at least ...'_ **

**_This dreadful coffin-side brawl, known only to those few who attended Ariana Dumbledore's funeral raises several questions. Why, exactly, did Aberforth Dumbledore blame Albus for his sister's death? As it, as 'Batty' pretends, a mere effusion of grief? Or could there have been some more concrete reason for his fury? Grindelwald, expelled from Durmstrang for near-fatal attacks upon his fellow students, fled the country hours after the girl's death and Albus (out of shame, or fear?) never saw him again, not until forced to do so by the pleas of the Wizarding world._ **

**_Neither Dumbledore nor Grindelwald ever seems to have referred to this brief boyhood friendship in later life. However, there can be no doubt that Dumbledore delayed, for some five years of turmoil, fatalities and disappearances, his attack upon Gellert Grindelwald. Was it lingering affection for the man, or fear of exposure as his once best friend, that caused Dumbledore to hesitate? Was it only reluctantly that Dumbledore set out to capture the man he was once so delighted he had met?_ **

**_And how did the mysterious Ariana die? Was she the inadvertent victim of some Dark rite? Did she stumble across something she ought not to have done, as the two young men sat practising for the attempt at glory and domination? Is it possible that Ariana Dumbledore was the first person to die 'for the greater good'?_ **

Snape stopped and blinked, finding himself at a loss for words, unable to continue further as a thousand questions darted around his mind.

"It was like a madness, Severus – those two months. A glorious whirlwind of ideas and dreams! A friend whose terrifying brilliance **inflamed me**. He represented freedom from the shackles of responsibility of my brother and sister; freedom to seek glory and power: **wizards triumphant.** Together, he **and I, the glorious young leaders of the revolution.** " Dumbledore shook his head.

"Did you have no qualms then about your _greater good?_ "

"Oh yes, but it is remarkable what a young man in love can justify to himself," said Dumbledore bitterly.

"Love is blind?" asked Snape, recalling the old adage.

"If it wishes to be ... and my sister paid the price for my wilful blindness."

"What happened?" asked Snape gently, understanding now – after all, hadn't Lily paid the price for his own youthful blindness? How could he – of all people - criticise?

"Gellert and I made plans – plans to traverse the magical world on a quest for – for power, even if it meant taking poor Ariana **in tow** , hidden and neglected by me. Aberforth, of course, would not hear of it and challenged me. **I did not want to hear the truths he shouted at me.** It quickly became an argument." Dumbledore paused and touched his fingertips to his lips. "Then Gellert **lost control and that which I had sensed in him –** even though I had refused to acknowledge it – was unleashed. He began to duel my young brother! I had to protect him, and joined with Aberforth ... but Ariana tried to help, she ..." Dumbledore stopped, his mouth slightly open, as if he seeing the scene unfold in front of him.

"Severus, I do not know which of us **cast the curse that killed my sister**."

Snape sat in the silence. He thought of saying he was sorry, but it seemed such a tiny word compared with that loss. Perhaps he understood better than most: he knew the pain of poor choices and the fatal consequence that could attend them.

"And this is why you swore your vow?"

"It is," said Dumbledore, heavily. "I needed to atone for my arrogance and my neglect. And possibly more."

"You could have loved again," said Snape.

"I did not believe I deserved it. Not love. Not power. All I deserved was to use my talents to guide, to teach, and to safeguard."

Snape said no more, but deep down, he believed Dumbledore had been wrong – he had been alone for too long and had forgotten was romantic love was – what it should have been – had he allowed himself the second chance he had always given to others.

oooOOOooo

Snape had willed away the rest of this day of profound revelations, but his hopes for sleep before his patrol and much-anticipated talk with Lupin were dashed when the Dark Mark had burned, intense and bright, as the clock struck midnight and now he stood with his head bowed before the Dark Lord as Bellatrix, jittery and unbalanced, was just finishing pleading with him.

"– it's all I ask, my Lord. Let me kill the Mudblood!"

"Your family tree is important to you - I understand that. But he's only a Mudblood. Let the Snatchers take care of him," the Dark Lord said, somewhat dismissively, with a wave of his hand.

Snape realised they must have been discussing Ted Tonks. He would have to try to send another warning, little good that would do if the Tonkses chose to distrust him.

"Now, I wish to speak to Severus." He turned sinuously to Snape, and Bellatrix glowered behind him. Snape put all thoughts of the Tonks family from his mind as he Occluded deeply.

"My good and faithful servant," the Dark Lord murmured as he glided around Snape, as if in thought. "For some years now you know I have looked for another Apothecary to help with your work -" Certainly, Snape had known the Death Eaters had sought Slughorn, but he had never stayed in the same place longer than a week, always staying one step ahead of them – always underestimated.

"The old man thwarted my plans for Slughorn. Dear old Sluggie," the Dark Lord laughed, but the sound was humourless. "But I have cast my net wider." The Dark Lord turned to the great doors of the hall. "Come!" he commanded.

The doors swung open and a tall, masked figure walked gracefully forward and stood with him. A woman. He saw the look of undisguised jealousy and hatred smouldering on Bellatrix's face. _Interesting._ Surely an enemy of Bellatrix must be a potential ally for Snape.

"I have found someone to assist you as you will be so beset at Hogwarts, caring for our magical young." There was a hint of malice in the sentence that was not lost on Snape. Snape masked his growing confusion with consummate ease, but in his Occluded mind, he wondered who or what this person might be. There weren't that many Apothecaries of his skill in the country. He had to be careful. He had to ensure his worth was known.

"Indeed, my Lord. I am always sensible to the honour and trust you have placed in me."

The Dark Lord appraised Snape and then slowly inclined his head in acknowledgement then twisted towards the newcomer.

"Unmask!"

Long, immaculately manicured fingers removed the Death Eater mask and Snape noticed the sleeve fall to reveal a newly-branded Dark Mark. An extraordinary looking brunette smiled at Snape, though the smile did not reach her large brown eyes. He knew her. He had seen her photograph in Apothecarial journals. His stomach sank and squirmed. She must have already given the Dark Lord something of great value to have been welcomed to his inner circle.

"This is Livia Tofana." The Dark Lord smiled. "I see you recognise her."

"Of course. Madam Tofana." Snape bowed his head to the Italian witch in greeting.

"Livia will help us with special new work."

"New work, my Lord?" asked Snape lightly, covering his horror that he would no longer be able to hoodwink the Dark Lord about Potions – not now he had this renowned Apothecary in his service. His chest tightened uncomfortably as he quelled a sickening sense of panic.

Livia dipped one hand into her robe and withdrew a long-necked phial, topped with an ornate silver cap.

"Livia brings me a gift. It is a poison, Severus. A discriminatory poison. I have no doubt you, in particular, will approve." The Dark Lord paused, his long, spiderlike fingers plucking the phial from Livia's hands and holding it up to the light from the window. The contents shimmered.

"Slithered Silver," sang the Dark Lord. "For the filth in Snowdon."

Snape's mind raced. A poison which could kill the whole pack – Lupin included! But why was Idris no longer sought? What had happened about the twin cores? Had the Dark Lord surmounted the problem? Secrets! Snape could not afford to be excluded. He had to take the chance and be curious.

"What of the half-breed wandmaker, my Lord? You no longer require him?"

The Dark Lord sneered, a look of supreme triumph glinting in his blood-red eyes.

"I have discovered a better way."

* * *

**.**


	116. Genesis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All recognisable IPR owned by JKR and her assigns. The rest is mine.  
> .  
> Firstly, I'm so sorry it's taken so long to update. Our house was flooded in the storms in December and I lost my laptop (amongst other things). It's been a complete nightmare. Anyway, we've now relocated and backup has restored most of my plans and chapters and I'm back on track. So – onward!

 

 

**Recap:**

It is September 1997. Lupin is with the Snowdon Pack helping to set up one of the safe houses for Muggle-borns. Snape has been summoned to the Dark Lord and meets Liva Tofana, an Italian Apothecary, who has joined the Death Eaters and produced a poison specific to werewolves called Slivered Silver.

_"Slithered Silver," sang the Dark Lord. "For the filth in Snowdon."_

_Snape's mind raced. A poison which could kill the whole pack – Lupin included! But why was Idris no longer sought? What had happened about the twin cores? Had the Dark Lord surmounted the problem? Secrets! Snape could not afford to be excluded. He had to take the chance and be curious._

_"What of the half-breed wandmaker, my Lord? You no longer require him?"_

_The Dark Lord sneered, a look of supreme triumph glinting in his blood-red eyes._

_"I have discovered a better way."_

.

**Chapter 116: Genesis**

_A better way? A better way of what? Defeating Potter? Overcoming the twin cores?_ Snape's mind reeled with questions. Idris had always been the focus for the Dark Lord obtaining a more powerful wand. What way could be better? He would have to speak to Dumbledore.

Even as he planned, he moved smoothly over to Livia Tofana, an Apothecary of such distinction that – under other circumstances – Snape would have been enthusiastic to make her acquaintance in person, even with her dubious reputation. It was known (although never proven by the Italian Ministero) that Tofana's speciality was poison. Her talent for abstract means to dispose of one's enemies was legendary and Snape had no doubt that if she had invented a werewolf-specific poison, it would be lethally effective.

He had to be careful. He needed to know what she had developed and whether there was an antidote. Could he get a sample even?

"Madam Tofana," he said silkily. "It is a great honour to make your acquaintance."

The witch's eyes were warm and welcoming. Snape was not fooled for one second.

"Professor Snape," she replied, inclining her head. "There is much I think we can achieve together. Our Lord has told me of your selective poison. I understand that you progressed a great deal but lost your researches in the mêlée of Professor Dumbledore's … demise. Perhaps," she bestowed a ravishing smile upon him, "you will allow me to assist you?"

Her voice was like honey, her tone mellow and reassuring, her words only slightly accented. Snape was sure, had he been attracted to women, she would be ensnaring him as they spoke. But he could dissemble as well. He had no doubt that the Dark Lord expected Snape to fall under the witch's spell. He inclined his head and bowed slightly.

"Assist me? I would be delighted," he said, noting the Dark Lord's nod of approval and wide, unpleasant smile. "If I may, Madam Tofana -"

"Please! You must call me Livia, and I will call you Severus – it is a fine Roman name, after all." She smiled seductively at him, her body seeming to lean gracefully towards him as her eyes roved over him. "There must be Italian ancestry in your wizarding line, I think," she said, in a considered tone, as she looked at his nose and hair. Snape had no intention of pointing out that his nose was a gene handed down from his very British, northern, working class father. "But I do not recognise the name of Snape," she added, coquettishly.

"On the Prince side," Snape said quickly, seeing Bellatrix itching to interrupt with the news of his Muggle father. "My mother's name was Prince."

"Ah," Livia breathed, nodding knowingly. "Principe! An old pure-blood name."

Snape heard Bellatrix snort with derision behind him but the Dark Lord silenced her with a hiss and a wave of his wand.

"It is my wish that you work together to achieve my great plans. Too long have I expected Severus to carry the weight of expectation whilst others - less worthy - do nothing for the cause."

Bellatrix cowered from the Dark Lord and Snape wondered how she or her family had transgressed this time. The question didn't linger. He had to capitalise upon his current status of favour. Snape understood the mercurial nature of the Dark Lord and knew just one false step could see him consigned to the status of pariah, like Lucius Malfoy – his wand shattered, his blood status worthless, his prestige tarnished like cheap gilded alloy.

"It would be a great honour," said Snape, his eyes roaming to the phial she held in her hands. "Such a prize indeed."

"Ah yes," murmured the Dark Lord. "Severus has a particular interest in the suffering and death of these beasts."

"My Lord honours me in remembering."

The Dark Lord chuckled. "Such memories, Severus!" His eyes met Snape's own and Snape wondered momentarily if the Dark Lord would bring him low with Legilimency before this new initiate just to demonstrate his power. The memories of his fear of the werewolf were easy to summon, from his terror of his discovery of teenage Lupin transformed in the Shrieking Shack to the battering he received from Idris, and he pushed them forward in the desperate hope he would not be debased.

The Dark Lord held Snape's suppliant gaze but his intrusion in Snape's mind was brief. Clearly, Snape's suffering was not required today. The Dark Lord's smile spread slowly.

"Severus has more reason than even the most discerning wizard to despise the half-breeds, Livia. Even when some have their uses, they are burdensome."

"Has Greyback displeased you again, my Lord?" asked Snape, wondering if that werewolf would also become a victim to the poison.

"The half-breed has his uses - but he is presumptuous," the Dark Lord hissed as he twisted sinuously towards Livia. "He is under orders to keep his distance. It does not do to let a beast think he is one of us."

Snape knew Greyback had been granted Death Eater robes of which the brute was obscenely proud. Had he still been pressing for the Dark Mark again, as he had done before? The Dark Lord would never work his blood brand into a creature he considered less than human. Perhaps, Snape would be able to capitalise on the Dark Lord's annoyance.

"He serves your purpose, my Lord," Snape sneered, "but he still seeks to pollute wizarding blood with his own – by one means or another."

The Dark Lord laughed throatily. "I know it. Once his purpose is served, he will be exterminated. I may even let you cast the curse." The Dark Lord paused and held Snape's gaze again. "I have no doubt you will be Livia's most willing and eager associate."

"Most willing indeed!" murmured Snape, allowing his delight to be apparent, even if his motivation was shrouded in deceit.

"Then we have much to discuss, Severus." She held out her hand and Snape bowed and touched his lips briefly to her hand. Her scent was seductive. He had no doubt she had imbibed an Attraction Potion prior to this meeting; he recognised the base oils subtly disguised with roses and sweet spice to resemble exotic perfume, but this nose of his could not be fooled. The question was whether he should let her know. He quickly decided it would be counter-productive and merely smiled instead. Let her think he was not her equal.

"Might I suggest we meet at Hogwarts after the full moon? My notes and laboratory are there."

"I should be delighted. First, we rid ourselves of the half-breeds, then the Muggles."

Snape made a small bow.

"It is a shame, Severus," smiled Livia, "that I did not know of your interest before the poisoning on Snowdon commenced ..."

Snape felt his blood turn to ice in his veins and time seemed to slow down in his shock. But he kept his voice steady. "It has already begun?" He looked to the phial still in her hand.

"Oh yes," murmured the Dark Lord. "Our agent has been in place for months now. A bespoke spy, courtesy of Greyback. This," he gestured to the phial, "is for those in our midst when the time comes."

A traitor in the Pack! A werewolf Turned for this very purpose. Snape's whole being seemed to scream to run – run to Snowdon and save Lupin! But his sense, Occluded safe from the Dark Lord's intrusion, held firm. He could do nothing to help unless he had information – blundering in without knowing the constitution of the poison could kill rather than cure. He could just hope a bezoar would do the trick – but he knew it would not if Livia Tofana had developed the poison. It would be multi-layered, ingredients interacting with spells, well concealed traps for the unwary.

He had to know more. He had to play to her arrogance to _want_ to tell him more.

"I don't deny that I am intrigued, Livia," said Snape silkily, standing tall as if about to depart. "I shall work out the method and trick of it before we meet."

Livia's brown eyes sparkled, and Snape knew she had picked up the challenge.

"The delivery is not difficult. Their food stocks have been contaminated," she said dismissively. "However, I don't believe you will be able to unravel the trick of it. No bezoar can undo it. Even if I gave you this phial, Scarpin's Revelaspell would not assist you."

"Indeed?" Snape peered at the phial enquiringly. "You believe I would be unable to detect the additional component?"

Livia's lips quirked into an unpleasant smile of condescension. "I do. Whilst the silver sickens them, it is an ancient Dark curse which will be the miséricorde to deal death to the beasts. Our Lord advised me on it." She bowed to the Dark Lord who smiled at her in turn, but Snape knew now she would want to crow about the Potion. Now it was for Snape to ensure she told him all he needed to know.

"I am hardly ignorant of Dark curses -"

"Ah, but this is a rare and arcane curse, way beyond any standard Apothecarial study!"

Snape knew she was rising to the bait now; she just needed a little more needling.

"But there was talk they have a wizard Healer. He will know how to counteract -"

"I knew of that and it will avail them nothing! The curse woven into the fabric of the poison will ensure the full moon will destroy them all. Magic against magic!" she snapped triumphantly.

There it was!

"Magic against magic," murmured Snape, his stomach churning. He had heard of this curse and knew of no counter-curse. The curse turned magic in on itself – one's own and any magic applied in healing. "The _Contra_ Curse _,_ " he said, struggling now to keep up the pretence of admiration. "Why – that is fiendish!"

"Yes," the Dark Lord almost chuckled, "it is fiendish." He drew himself level with Livia, and looked on her as if he wished to consume her. "Everything I expect of my followers and yet ... I so rarely receive." The Dark Lord turned his gaze on Bellatrix, still Silenced and panting heavily, clearly maddened with jealousy. Under other circumstances, Snape would have revelled in her distress but for now, he could think of nothing but securing the information he needed. "Are you impressed, Severus?"

"Deeply, my Lord. This means that Livia must have a deep understanding of the genesis of the Lycanthropic curse to use it against itself."

"Ah, so you do know the curse!" Livia was caught up in her own cleverness now. She wanted to brag and the Dark Lord wanted her to show off her talent. It was all Snape could do not to beg her to tell him.

"I have never worked the _Contra_ Curse," Snape said, choosing his next words carefully. "And I had thought the origins of the Lycanthropic curse were lost in the mists of time."

"To those who know not where to look," murmured Livia.

"How then did you find it?" Snape did not hide his eagerness now, only his panic. How had they discovered what he and Lupin had spent months researching to no avail? But it was not Livia who answered.

"Those who study true Darkness and do not shy away from the power it brings can divine what is necessary," said the Dark Lord. Then he made a dismissive gesture, indicating that Livia was to explain. Livia stood back, crossing her arms, her long, delicate fingers resting on her upper arms, clearly delighted to tell the tale.

"It is an ancient story, shrouded in myth, in that greatest of civilisations, Mesopotamia, on the banks of the Euphrates river. The first dynasty of Uruk was governed by Gilgamesh two and a half thousand years before the birth of the Christ child. The Sumerians believed Gilgamesh to be a demigod but - of course - he was, in fact, a great sorcerer.

"A powerful sorceress, Ishtar, desired Gilgamesh greatly although she had many admirers of her own. One such was a lowly shepherd Lykos. She encouraged him to give her gifts and make sacrifices to her in the mistaken belief that she was a goddess. She tired of his obsession with her and, thinking to amuse Gilgamesh and impress him with her skill, she transfigured Lykos into a wolf whereupon his own hounds had killed him. Gilgamesh forever spurned her for her cruelty. This much is generally known from the great tablets of Sumerian civilisation."

Snape nodded. He had read of this myth before but it did not explain the magic underlying the curse of Lycanthropy. Livia moved to the leather inlaid desk of walnut and picked up a clay tablet, stroking its edges with reverence as she continued, her voice now filled with awe.

"However, what is not generally known, for we have become too constrained by Muggle notions of good and evil, is that Ishtar had called on her father, the greater moon Necromancer Sîn, to assist her when she transfigured Lykos into a wolf-demon, not a mere wolf. Gilgamesh, in a great duel of sorcery with Ishtar, restored the shepherd to life. He could not undo all of Ishtar's transfiguration but he managed to contain it to the time of the full moon. That was the price – for a price must always be paid to bring life from the realm of death – spark from dust."

Snape's eyes fixed on the cuneiform tablet Livia held. Could this be the true genesis of the Lycanthropic curse? Did it originate in Necromancy, the Darkest of all arts communing with the dead and the death dimensions? The twisting in his stomach seemed to tighten even more.

"May I?" he asked, his throat dry in fear. Livia smiled and handed over the ancient tablet.

"It is one of a Ternion," she advised as pointed to two other tablets on the desk. "They must be read together."

"Remarkable," Snape muttered as his eyes devoured the cuneiform markings. His mind couldn't translate as quickly as he would have liked, but he could always make use of the Pensieve when he returned to Hogwarts. He quickly scanned the other two, tracing the markings with his fingers, even the cracks of age running through the tablets in an effort to familiarise himself with them.

"It has such poetic symmetry, does it not, Severus?" murmured the Dark Lord. "In meddling with what he had considered a great evil, he wrought a cursed life on the man he purported to save and condemned multitudes of men and women to half-lives to this day" The Dark Lord laughed, a hollow, mirthless sound.

Snape managed a half smile in response. "It is truly extraordinary," he said, trying to keep his tone level. "So I understand: the silver poison works by weakening and sickening them so they seek remedies but no magical remedy can be applied as it will augment the effects of the _Contra_ Curse?"

"Correct. But the beauty of this is that the strength the beasts derive from their curse will ensure that the poison's effect is amplified at the full moon – magic working against magic. The cursed time will take their spark back to dust."

oooOOOooo

Snape's mind was in turmoil as he ran from the Apparition point through the gates of Hogwarts, the sun already setting on the horizon. From his summoning at midnight, he had been in conference with the Dark Lord and Livia through the early hours onward. He had had to summon all his skills of deceit to make it through a seemingly interminable day of information-gathering.

And some of this was the very information he had so dearly desired in his hope to find a cure for his beloved but to have discovered it as part of a plot to kill those werewolves unsympathetic to the Dark Lord was a terrible blow. That the curse was Necromantic in origin was a truly shocking revelation and one he had no time to come to terms with. Lupin hadn't been exposed to the poison as long as the Pack, but he had still been exposed.

And then Snape stopped in his tracks with a single realisation.

There could be no Wolfsbane.

He would have to spend the full moon with Lupin without Wolfsbane and unable to use any magic to help him -

Like a ghost of a memory, the scars on his midriff seemed to burn.

\- or to protect himself. He shook his head at his own stupidity. He couldn't use his wand against Lupin anyway, but he could use magic on himself. And it would all be moot anyway if he couldn't find a cure!

It was a just over a week until the full moon and he had to prepare – somehow. But how? He had a Dark Arts library of his own but he knew he didn't have the answers in those books – he knew them cover to cover after all.

He sped to the Headmaster's office and immediately began to riffle through Dumbledore's library of books, pulling out volume after volume, grunting in frustration.

"What is it, Severus?"

Snape ignored Dumbledore, still searching as his heart pounded, only vaguely aware of the calls from other portraits in the office as more and more tomes were flung to the floor as Snape's desperation grew.

"Headmaster? What troubles you?"

"What ails thee?"

"Let us assist you!"

Snape whirled around to Dumbledore's portrait, his eyes wild with mounting panic. "Where are they? Where?"

"What, Severus? What exactly are you looking for?"

"The Dark Arts books you used to have here? All the ones you removed from the library? From Black's library too! Where have they gone? Albus! Where?"

Dumbledore held Snape's gaze over his painted glasses. "Why do you need them? Has Tom asked for them?"

"The Dark Lord has left the country!" Snape waved at the portrait spastically.

"Gone where? Do you know? Tell me, Severus. It may be important."

"He's not my concern," Snape barked. "Just tell me about the books! Remus's life depends on it!"

"They were Summoned from this office," said Phineas Nigellus. "After Dumbledore departed, I saw them fly out of the window."

"All of them?" cried Snape, looking around wildly, a vague recollection of missing books coming back to him.

"Every one of them," Vulpus confirmed.

"Severus, speak to us," insisted Dumbledore. "Why is Remus in danger?"

Snape sank to the dias step, his head dropping into his hands as his panic finally consumed him and his breath came in rasps.

"Not just Remus. The whole Snowdon Pack."

Snape pressed the heels of his hands against his closed eyes as he fought to calm himself, cursing himself for his loss of control. He hadn't slept in two days, he reminded himself. He needed to calm himself – and deal with this.

Finally, his breathing eased and the portraits waited, most leaning forward in their chairs expectantly. Snape inhaled deeply and dragged his fingers through his hair in an effort to compose himself. He had some of the finest minds at his disposal here: he must make use of them. He stood and lifted his eyes to look at Dumbledore directly, whose own eyes were filled with concern.

Quickly and without embellishment, Snape told them of revelations made by the Dark Lord and Livia Tofana and no-one spoke until Snape finished with, "... so I wanted the Dark Arts books for something – anything – that can help."

Then, as if on some unspoken cue, most of the portraits began to speak culminating in a crescendo of theories and speculation. As the cacophony became almost unbearable, Snape roared, "Silence!"

The silence that descended on the room felt thick with tension.

"If you please, let us discuss this in an orderly fashion," said Dumbledore. "First, we must unravel the layers. Poison – Silver activate – _Contra_ curse."

Vindictus Viridian was first to speak. "First, the poison must be dealt with but not with a Potion because the magical elements will exacerbate the _Contra_ curse. We know a Bezoar cannot assist us because of this."

At this point, Dilys Derwent interjected, "Iodine to counteract the silver!"

 _Of course,_ thought Snape. Tincture of iodine as used by Muggles as an antiseptic, but alchemically, iodine was the counter to silver.

Viridian leant forward. "Yes! If we can procure a sample of the poison, we can formulate the proper percentage parts required to annul the silver!"

"I may not be able to obtain a pure sample, but I could obtain some poisoned food, I'm sure."

"And thou canst find remedial elixirs concocted without sorcery," chimed in Phyllida Spore.

"Muggle medicaments use no magic. They may work to reduce the symptoms of poison," suggested Dilys. "If you can identify the poison and the maladies it will cause, I will bespeak medicaments from the hospital for your use."

"Thereby reducing the damage done before the full moon, yes!" exclaimed Snape, knowing Dilys had portraits not only in St. Mungo's but also at the Royal Hospital of St. Bartholomew in Spitalfields, where Healers had been in attendance since the twelfth century (although, since the Statute of Secrecy, the position had been concealed).

"If the poison can be counteracted by the time of the full moon, they may be able to withstand their transformations," added Dumbledore. "It then becomes a matter of tackling the _Contra_ Curse itself."

"Do you know anything of it?"

Dumbledore stroked his beard. "I have read ancient scrolls referring to it. I know that it is a blood curse but more than that, I do not know."

Here, Snape knew the Headmasters could not help him. If they did not have that knowledge now, it could be gained by the dead. He felt the sharp pang of loss as he remembered how Dumbledore had helped them unravel the Thrall, bringing his prodigious skills to bear on their calculations. But perhaps they would have the knowledge of where he could find the arcane knowledge he needed and, one by one, each made suggestions of where such knowledge might be found.

The free-flow of ideas no longer overwhelmed him as each component took him closer to a solution and he drank in the contributions, scratching notes on a piece of parchment. He couldn't help but curse Sirius Black's memory for distracting him from the Black library books on soul magic before Dumbledore had taken them and he certainly couldn't try to obtain those books through his usual resources – the Dark Lord might come to hear of it.

"If I may?" asked a querulous voice as the exchanges gradually petered out. Snape turned to listen to the portrait of Armando Dippet. "Why do we care about preserving werewolves?"

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Be careful," he hissed. "The next time I carry acetone, you best hope none spills on your portrait when I pass."

oooOOOooo

Back in his quarters, at least he could now plan. The portraits had given him much valuable information from each of their own fields of excellence. He had always thought their oaths to serve the Headmaster were little more than a mythological adornment of Hogwarts. As he spread out his notes on his desk, he knew he had been wrong – they were a magnificent resource.

He began to pack his apothecary bag. He took a small supply of emergency Potions although only he and Alphard could make use of them because of the _Contra_ Curse. Then he Summoned all the iodine in both his personal and the school's stores and packed them carefully. Then he called for Tippy who appeared with a snap.

"Professor Snape," she said, bowing low.

"Tippy, I have urgent errands for you, and it is vital that each is carried out as quickly as possible. I am going to the encampment in Snowdon now but I will call as soon as I can to instruct you. In the meantime, if there is any trouble here, come to me."

"Yes, Professor Snape. Tippy knows the place," she confirmed, bobbing her head.

"Very good." With that, Tippy Disapparated and Snape finished packing his bag then pulled out the mirror, calling breathlessly to Lupin.

Lupin answered, his own face ashen, his expression stressed.

"Severus," he breathed. "I was just about -" Lupin stopped speaking as he looked at Snape's dark eyes glittering with fear. "What's wrong?"

"I need to come to the Pack. I have to speak to Idris and Alphard. And you. I need to see you."

"I'll speak to them, but now's a bad time. There's sickness throughout the camp. Angharad had a terrible labour in a Muggle hospital and -"

"I know about the sickness," Snape interrupted with a snap. "That's why I need to come right now. It's a cursed poison! And no-one – I repeat, _no-one_ – can use magic!"

oooOOOooo

Seth Moore, with his sandy hair and burnt umber robes, Apparated within feet of the perimeter of the wards of the Snowdon Pack. He saw no sign of the usual look-outs but, within seconds, Lupin and Idris appeared. Snape noticed that Lupin walked close to Idris, as if to support him. And it quickly became apparent why.

The Alpha's steps were uncertain and a thin film of perspiration stood out on his skin. His eyes were bright with fever and his shoulders hunched over as if it pained him to breathe. Snape's eyes snapped to Lupin. He didn't look ill like Idris, but he was pale and drawn. Snape frowned: he had only been with Lupin two nights ago and he had been – well – vigorous. The poison was clearly fast-acting – they would have to work fast.

Snape walked quickly to meet them.

"Well met," rasped Idris, and then he coughed, stretching out a hand and clasping Lupin's shoulder until the coughing passed. "Ye are welcome."

With those words of invitation, Snape and Lupin walked with Idris through the ancient wards.

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**.**

**A/N:** _**For those who want to know what happened with Angharad's labour, it's told in Chapter 19 of 'Old Friend'.** _

**Please read and review.**


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